Tags
air, blessings, breath, depths of life, John Philip Newell, Praying With the Earth, rain, soil, soul, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
Here’s a prayer-poem from John Philip Newell that we might might save and pull out on days when the air is heavy with the rain of the night or the scent of the soil that makes one want to go out and dig in the dirt. (Or is it just me?)
It is in the depths of life that we find you, at the heart of this moment, at the centre of our soul, deep in the earth and its eternal stirrings. You are the ground of all being, the Well-Spring of time, Womb of the earth, the Seed Force of stars. And so at the opening of this day we wait not for blessings from afar but for You, the very Soil of our soul, the early freshness of morning, the first Breath of the day. (Praying with the Earth, p. 18)
Late yesterday just after I had arrived at the party marking the 85th birthday of my friend, Florence, the skies opened and gave a torrential drink of water to the parched earth. Just before I left an hour later to return to the retreat I was hosting at home, the rain stopped. Sometimes things just happen that way. Had I been home without a group of people wrapping up an afternoon of deep reflection, I would have loved to go outside and let myself be washed by the cooling water falling from the sky, as I symbolically felt the sensation of having all things being made new. I opted instead for the reasonable option of staying dry.
Psalm 119, the longest in the book of 150 psalms, has 176 verses and can be the study of a lifetime. In a commentary this morning I read that the subject of these prayers is the hard learning one gains in light of a multitude of hardships and circumstances encountered on the spiritual path…Experiences are often repeated again and again. As we go over the same territory learning it in new ways, truth becomes grounded. Insights are gained from each spiral of ascending experience.
As the curtain opens on another season of Lent and we gear up for repentance and renewal, the prophet Joel is way out ahead of us announcing God’s invitation. “Even now,” God says…”Even now,” the poet Christopher Fry writes in the play, A Sleep of Prisoners, “when wrong comes up to face us till we take the longest stride of soul we ever took…” 
This morning as I read Psalm 86 I thought of how blessed I am with good friends to whom I can go for comfort in troubled times. There are moments, however, when it is only God who will suffice as a sounding board – or when it feels as if that is true. When I have acted in a less than worthy manner or judged someone unjustly, I am likely to first seek God’s forgiveness until I work up the courage and humility to admit my fault to a human being. Excuses abound for bad behavior and it is only when the layers of babble are stripped away – usually in conversation with God – that I dare to admit my need for forgiveness. How blessed are we, therefore, to have a God whose name is Love! I am grateful to the psalmist today – and to the translator – for these comforting words that give me pause.
From four sources this morning I heard the same message.
Here’s a tidbit from Thomas Merton that takes a slow read and then another to seep into the soul so that the mind can follow the trajectory and then light up the heart. Or maybe it is the simplest circle of words he ever wrote and I’m just working too hard to keep up with him. See what you think.
This morning I have just spent my first hour preparing for session 2 of our 6-session study series on the book No Ordinary Time by Jan Phillips. The study grew out of response to Jan’s visit and our meaningful workshop with her in April. We have 19 women gathering to continue pondering the fact that our ordinary lives can truly be extraordinary if we allow them to be so. Our chapter heading for tomorrow is “Discipline” and it contains several possible spiritual practices. I thought it auspicious to choose one – a simple exercise that can be easily done – as a suggestion here. See what you think about the possibility of inserting this into your everyday routine.
It’s been raining – torrents and thunder-filled sometimes – for the past three days. Yesterday it was if the divine weatherman was playing with us. Drenching downpours were followed by moments of sun peeking out of big gray clouds – then rain again…Even this morning the deck behind our house is puddle-strewn. I look out at the trees, rain soaked as well, but shining now in full sun. What a relief! I never mind the rain but when we begin to hear of flooding streams I know it’s all too much for the farmers and I pray for the balance to be restored. So today it feels as if God is saying, “Wake up! All your sluggishness is washed away! New possibilities await you!” and I sing a response with the psalmist in a translation by Nan Merrill.
This morning I woke with a line from Christopher Fry’s poem, A Sleep of Prisoners, in my head. It comes to me in moments of significance – often as the whole poem but sometimes just the part. I always look it up to make sure I’m not misquoting and in the version I clicked on today, the line was set off in bold. It says: Affairs are now soul size. The enterprise is exploration into God.