Tags
Ancient Songs Sung Anew, Lynn Bauman, pray, presence of God, psalm 67, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, vision, voiceless
This spring has been unusually cold and rainy. Today promises to be the only day this week with no rain but predictions also say we may be wet again by 6:00 this evening. Before I start to moan and groan about it I need to pay attention to Psalm 67 which today reminds me to look farther and deeper than my own back yard. As Lynn Bauman suggests, Our task as contemporary creatures is not simply to pray for ourselves, or narrowly for those around us who are dear to us, but to give voice for the whole earth…Imagine yourself as creation’s voice, as an instrument through which those without a voice can enter with praise the presence of God.
He is speaking, of course, about more than the weather although in some places the loss occasioned by that one element in the world has lately been monumental. He goes on to offer a challenge to us that carries us beyond the borders of our own lives and our own times to a larger vision. Listen:
Reflect upon your vision of the future for the world. There is often a wide gap between the the vision of beauty held out for the world and the experience of pain and ugliness we find within it. Those who pray hold these two regions together and will not let them fall apart.
As you pray this prayer (Psalm 67) imagine yourself praying for the voiceless creatures of earth, and for those human beings who have lost hope that such a future might even exist. (Ancient Songs Sung Anew, p. 166)
Note: This post was created for November 13, 2018.
In his small book, Praying with the Earth: A Prayerbook for Peace, John Philip Newell writes each morning and evening of the week a prayer for the life of the world. Brief as they are, they are compelling in their depth and intensity, calling out to God with vision and yearning, always capturing quickly and quietly a trust of the God that will never disappoint. Here is what he offers on this – and every – Saturday morning.
St. Clare of Assisi, whom we celebrate today, was a great example of the adage “Behind every good man, there is a good woman.” While he did not see her often, St. Francis counted on her holiness and wisdom to shore up his determination in times of doubt and difficulty. Clare was a clear mirror of the presence of God for Francis and for those women who followed her to the convent of San Damiano, and he was the same for her. She was a woman of great strength and perseverance who believed that she was the one who knew best what should be written in a rule for women in a religious order. Although she easily accepted the rule that Francis has written in the early days, after the death of Francis she continued for 27 years to submit a revised rule to bishops and popes until she finally received and signed a constitutional document of her own two days before her death on August 11, 1253.
We all come to God in our own time and in our own way. Whether we are born into a religious tradition that nurtures our faith in an organic way for the duration of our life or have a moment of recognition brought on by an extraordinary event, our life journey is as unique as our thumbprint and just as special.
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.
Last Sunday, as I listened to a dramatic reading of the entire gospel of Mark, I was struck by the number of exorcisms Jesus performed. In the different ways that “evil spirits” manifested in people, Jesus commanded those “spirits” to “come out!” and the people were healed. I’m wondering this morning if all the synoptics were similarly engaged in reporting such events. My attention was a caught because today’s gospel from Luke (11:14-23) begins with Jesus “driving out a demon that was mute, and when the demon had gone out, the mute man spoke and the crowds were amazed.”
The gospel this morning tells Luke’s version of the encounter Jesus had with a blind man. I am always struck in the healing stories when Jesus asks the desire of the person he meets who is in need. I never doubt that he can see that condition in the person, so either he is looking for a statement of faith or he wants to be sure of the depth of the person’s intention or desire to be healed. Although life might be easier for the man if he gets his sight, there may be new responsibilities attached to the healing as well. Maybe he will have to find a job, rather than sitting by the side of the road begging. Certainly he will need to become attentive to people who are in need of help with certain life tasks because of infirmities. Who better since he has been there himself?
I have a conference call today, the third (or maybe fourth?) in a month, as my colleagues and I do our best to prepare for the event we are offering at the end of this month. It is the first of its kind for us – similar in a way but not matching all the “Wisdom Schools” we have presented over the past five years. This one is called “Wisdom Group Leadership Training” and is defined as practical training in skillful “post-holding,” including ’embodying the wealth of wisdom’s vision’ and developing group skills for greater integration. 
One of the extraordinary events in the life of Jesus, chronicled in all three of the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke), is known as the Transfiguration. That word when broken apart speaks to a process of changing form, which is what happened to Jesus and was witnessed by the apostles Peter, James and John one day on a high mountain where they had gone to pray. It is a familiar story. For those interested in detail, it is a great chance to question and muse about the what and why of the incident as each of the three versions in the gospels has small, distinctive differences, none of which changes the substance of the event.