...illuminated in your presence

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;

naught be all else to me, save that thou art:

thou my best thought, by day or by night,

waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

---trad. Irish

“The room lit up when she walked in.” You can picture it—I bet you can—from a scene in a movie, or maybe even from a lucky moment in real life. That moment, the rare one, when the stir of the cocktail party crowd stills, the sea of tuxedoed and pearl necklaced extras parts, and the one glides across the room, lighting her own path, a hundred eyes following her. You can tell from the glow that she is the leading lady. You’ve probably experienced this effect irl (in real life) as well—the way some people seem to light up a room with their very presence, making everyone else around them lighter, too. We’re like moths, in those moments, drawn to that light.

In this beloved Irish hymn, the text speaks of God metaphorically. Among those metaphors is God’s presence as light. Not that God brings light, or that knowing God creates light, or that God helps us see light, although all of those may be true and are undoubtedly good. No, in this text, God’s presence is, itself, light. When God is my light, what is illuminated in my life? Things I had yet to notice, gifts or strengths yet to be exercised? Hurts and fears I had hidden away, in the dark, even from myself? Is, perhaps, the full beauty of my being illuminated in the presence of God, expressed as light?

If my life lights up when God walks in…what then?

...the toll of love

Crown him the Lord of love! Behold His hands and side,

Rich wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified;

no angels in the sky can fully bear the sight,

but downward bend their burning eyes at mysteries so bright.

---Matthew Bridges, 1851

There is a country song that includes the line, “…you ain’t lived till you got scars.” I think there is a lot of truth in the statement. My daughter Abby’s knee will always show the scars of a childhood fall from the “high monkey bars” and a couple of inelegant adolescent stair descents. Sarah’s forehead will always have a Harry Potter-esque ‘lightning bolt’ mark to remind her of the hutch at the bottom of the stairs at Grandma’s in Columbus. Any mom will tell of scars related to birthing, then raising, children --- scars both physical and emotional. Life takes its toll on us all.

And life took its toll on Jesus. When I read this hymn, I am struck by the thought that the Jesus glorified in heaven, present with the angels, still bears the scars of a real life. The kinds of scars we all carry--of injury and discouragement, of betrayal and disappointment, of rejection and indifference—if we walk the world long enough, earnestly enough. No air-brushed, cleaned-up, sanitized version of Jesus reigns in heaven. The Lord of love, mystery of mysteries, still bears the marks of his sacrifice on his glorified body.

You ain’t lived till you got scars.

...tenderly bound

O to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be!

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to Thee:

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love;

Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it; seal it for Thy courts above.

---Robert Robinson, 1758

It might be easy to see this verse as a guilt trip. What kind of lousy follower am I? Prone to wander, in debt to grace, I need a fetter --- a chain --- to bind me to God. Ouch. Then I remember that in this hymn, as in so much of life, it’s not about me. This hymn explores not human nature, frail and failing though it be. This text is all about the nature of God, a God who loves us enough to pursue us, to bind us to Godself with chains --- chains made not of might or threat, or violence, but of goodness. And in my inmost heart, I long to be held close to the heart of God, with fetters that tender. I am a debtor. For God’s unfailing mercy, I owe a debt I will never repay. Through God’s grace, freely given, I owe nothing.

Because of the weightlessness of my bonds, I will serve always out of love and gratitude. I’m bound like that.

...who we are together

Every valley will be lifted up,
every mountain and hill eased low;
And the crooked path will lie straight,
and the rough patches smooth as glass:
And everywhere around will be evidence of 
the Lord,
And all of us will see it, the human family,
all of us together:
The Lord has always intended it be so.
---Isaiah 40:4-5 (para. laca)

Together. What a powerful word. Christianity is bound up, much of it, in individualism; making a personal profession of faith, choosing a private walk with Christ, developing an intimate relationship with God independent of any hierarchical relationship.

But there is a lot of together in faith. In this prophetic, forward-looking passage from Isaiah, the poet/seer yearns for the day when every geography is, well, flat. And if you are like me, and you are a mountain person, you are thinking, "Boooorrrrrrinnnnng. Who wants a world where everything is flat?" Which may be true. For the able -bodied. For the unencumbered. For the light traveler, not toting burdens, or children, or elderly parents. For the rested, not bent with sorrow or weariness.

But, for us all to gather around and witness the evidence that the Lord, Love, is here among us, we all have to be able to gather. The ground must be level and smooth, and the path must be straight, for us all to approach the glory of God. For us all to be witnesses, we first have to be here. Together. 

In this life, in God's household, if we don't approach together, we don't approach at all.

And all flesh shall see it together. (King James Version)

#ubuntu. I am who I am because of who we are together.

...for all the days we have

We praise all we know of you!
We praise you in holy places we have made for worship.
and in holy places you alone could have dreamt into existence!
We praise you for what you have done,
we praise you for the essence of who you are!
We search for ways to praise you ---
with horns,
with strings,
with drums and shakers,
with pipes,
with bells,
with crashing cymbals,
with the dance!
We, all of us who take our breath,
from the first day you give us till our last,
we praise you!
We praise all we know of you,
in all the ways we know, 
for all the days we have!
---Psalm 150 (para. laca)

...full of grace

I lift your name,
you who will not be named.
It is good to let praise rise to you;
for you are full of grace,
and a graceful song is fitting.
You build up your beloved community;
you gather us, outcasts all.
You heal the broken hearts,
you bind up the torn places.
You number the stars,
you name them.
You are great in mystery,
abundant in strength,
measureless in understanding.
As you cast the wicked mighty to the ground,
you lift up the lowly downtrodden.
I lift your name,
you who will not be named.
---Psalm 147:1-6 (para. laca)

...an acceptable time

As for me, Mystery, 

I lift my prayer to you.

At an acceptable time,

when your steadfast love 

overflows its bounds,

answer,

for I call out and the silence is deafening.

At an acceptable time, 

when your faithful help

flourishes like wheat,

rescue me,

for I am sinking and the waters are deep.

At an acceptable time,

when your pity

churns like the tide,

save ---

from flood, 

or deep, 

or Pit.

At an acceptable time,

answer, 

you whose goodness

is defined and demonstrated

by steadfast love;

turn to me,

show me the fullness of your mercy.

Let me look into your face, and

look into mine;

I am falling --- how long

shall I wait for you?

Draw near,

pay the price for me,

at an acceptable time.

---Psalm 69:13-18 (para. laca)

...etched on their hearts

The days come, they come,
says the Lord,
when I will make a new covenant
with my beloved in Israel
and in Judah.
It won't be like the covenant of old,
when I led the children by the hand 
up out of their bondage in Egypt---
a covenant broken, 
even though I stood as head of household 
for them, strong and caring, says the Lord.
But this is the new covenant I will make 
with my beloved people after those days,
the Lord says: 
my law will be an inner guide,
etched on their hearts
as surely as if on stone;
I will be their own, 
and they will be mine.
The need for second-hand knowledge of me
will pass away;
"Know God" won't have to be spoken,
for my people will know,
from least to greatest in the land,
says the Lord;
for I forgive the shortcomings
of my beloved people,
and cede my right to remember their wrongs
from now till forever.
---Jeremiah 31:31-34 (para. laca)

...the good of the crossroads

My prayer for the holy city:
"May the lives of all who love you
be enriched in the very act of loving.
Peace fill the spaces between your walls,
pervasive safety make watchtowers obsolete."
For the sake of love,
for my beloved ones, I gladly say,
"Let peace reign!"
For the sake of the abiding place 
of Mystery, the heart of love,
I will seek the good of the crossroads.
---Psalm 122:6-9 (para. laca)

Jerusalem is an important city, and has been for thousands of years. The meeting place of three major world religions, and too often their boiling point. Open the newspaper (or, more likely, your home page) and, chances are, it won't be hard to find a headline concerning unrest in the Holy Land. Ironically enough, as holy days approach, the tensions ramp up, religious fervor fueling the fires of suspicion and hatred.

Open the Scriptures, and you see the same stories, Beta version. Jerusalem, the city with peace (salem) in the name, but none in the streets. Religious strife, political machinations, tribal feuding all kept Jerusalem from experiencing shalom, the 'wholeness that leads to life' that we translate peace.

And we should pray for peace in this holy place, pour out our hearts for peace. And we should add feet to our prayers, acting in ways that promote peace in this part of the world where it is possible for us.

But the world is a kind of Jerusalem. Through global travel, internet, and media of all kinds, our world has shrunk considerably, and our global village is just that. And our Jerusalem is an incredibly diverse place, with innumerable divisions of race, clan, faith, gender, politics, and economics. And those divisions cause distrust, and inequity, and violence, and hoarding. And fear, which may be the long, ugly taproot of them all.

Our Jerusalem is this world at the crossroads. And we are all in the crosshairs. We can be destroyed by the fear we foment. Or we can be enriched by the very act of loving. This is peace.

Seek the good of the crossroads.

Enjoy a beautiful sung prayer for peace by a talented woman I am privileged to know, Amanda Powell:
https://youtu.be/VX9L3zfZ_dc

...I sing you

I sing you,
with all my soul I sing you!
I seek to give my spirit wing
with each new day,
with rising song lift you 
for my ever.
I've found gladness in knowing 
your help is my sure footing,
your hope is my soaring,
maker of under and over,
the blue all around.
You are faithful:
you pursue justice for the innocent accused;
you fill hungry mouths by your provision.
You grant freedom to the bound,
clarity to the unseeing;
you carry the burden of the bent as if
it were you own;
you rain down love on those 
consumed with law, drown us in love.
You keep watch over the unnoticed;
you stand for the underserved and neglected,
you shake your head as the wicked 
bring about their own destruction.
The community you dream for us 
will be forever. 
I sing you.
---Psalm 146:1-2, 5-10 (para. laca)

...as if to touch you

Hear, for I call;
in your faithfulness, listen,
in your righteousness, answer.
Reserve judgement against me,
for who among the living 
can stand under your perfection?
I stretch my hands as if to touch you,
my thirsting spirit longs 
for your quenching.
Will you answer?
I have grown weary with the waiting.
Do not turn away from me,
or I will surrender hope like one
damned to hell.
Let me hear the morning song
of your hesed, your steadfast love,
for all my trust is lifted to you.
Let me know your wisdom
and I will follow,
for all my soul is lifted to you.
Teach me what you have in store,
for you are mine.
In your goodness make my path,
and lead me on it
...for I am your servant.
---Psalm 143:1-2, 6-8, 10, 12b (para. laca)

...you envelop me

You, and you alone, 
have looked on me long enough
to know my soul.
You know the minutiae of my mundane,
the sinking, the rising;
the thoughts that occupy me,
dark to dark.
You seek both my footfalls
and my resting breath
with equal concern;
no way of mine is an 
unknown quantity to you.
Before my thoughts take tone,
leave lip,
you know them for what they are,
even what I intend them to be.
You envelop me, 
I am surrounded by your care.
Nothing in my heart or mind can grasp 
the beauty of knowing this,
knowing you, Mystery.
---Psalm 139:1-6 (para. laca)

...there is mercy

From depths I could not have imagined
I call to you, One.
Hear. 
Will you hear?
This mystery ---
let the ear of your attention
note the voice of my reaching.
For, if you, if you are the one
who measures shortcomings, 
which of us could stand?
But with you there is mercy, 
mercy;
and we count it holiness in you.
I wait for you, my soul stills itself,
my hope rests on a word from you;
my spirit longs for your advent
more than the sleepless search the sky
for the first streaks of cold purple dawn.
---Psalm 130:1-6 (para. laca)

...you enwrap me

My gaze endlessly scans the rugged foothills ---
if help is there, 
where?
Is it you, Mystery,
spinner of loft and loam?
It is you who will steady
my wavering step;
you stand guard through the night 
to keep watch beside me.
You who keep your beloved
will neither doze nor dream,
not in all the watches of the night.
You nursemaid me;
you protect me from the harshest of life.
When light and heat prove too much,
you shelter;
you enwrap me in your safety when moonlight
feels sinister.
You keep evil from overwhelming me;
you preserve.
You sanctify my goings and comings 
now and tomorrow and 
tomorrow.
---Psalm 121 (para. laca)

...joy in the coming

A clarion call from the heart of earth,

"The Unsearchable is the most high!

The world you have imagined for us

is set in its course; there it shall spin.

You rule among your people 

with an even and discerning hand."

The stars sing,

the very earth thrums with joy;

the seas churn and and foam their praise,

creatures of the deep take note;

the waving fields bend, 

ready for the offering, 

beasts of the field yield up praise. 

Now the trees,

even the trees of the forest --

where the shadows lie 

long and cool and silent --

even the trees begin their humming.

I hear it, even now, a sound of pure joy

before you, Mystery; 

for you are coming,

you are coming to be judge

on this blue and green planet.

And there is joy in the coming, 

because in the judging, most high,

there is truthful rightness.

---Psalm 96:10-13 (para. laca)

...to wait in this quiet

Hear me, the words 

slip from my lips,

turn your grace toward me,

answer me, hear me.

My heart whispers to me

to seek your face.

I desire to meet your gaze;

you hear me-- let me look 

into your eyes.

I trust that your goodness 

will be revealed to me

here in the fullness of life.

I will wait with expectation for you;

I am strong enough, my soul 

courageous enough,

to wait in this quiet, for you.

---Psalm 27:7-9, 13-14 (para. laca)

God, give me the strength to wait on you when no word is forthcoming. The peace and stillness to sit in emptiness, to wait in active hope for something I am not guaranteed. Quiet my anxiety over what you will or will not do, and teach me to simply desire to meet you.

...shown up dressed alike

Here we are  Lord.

We’re dressed in suits and blue jeans,

Skirts and capris,

Sandals and high heels,

Polo shirts and ties.

Here we are Lord.

We’re dressed in robes of celebration,

Masks of insecurity,

The sack cloth and ashes of mourning and grief.

Here we are Lord,

And we’ve shown up dressed alike ---

Clothed in your mercy and grace.

We’ve all shown up dressed alike---

And we are grateful.

We stand in awe of your ability to speak to each of us,

All of us,

And we are listening.

I Will Gather You

The Lord your God is with you, mighty to save.
The Lord will take great delight in you, 
will quiet you with love, 
will rejoice over you with singing.
I will rescue the lame and gather those who have been scattered.
At that time I will gather you;
at that time I will bring you home.
---the prophet Zephaniah

On this Gaudate Sunday, this Rejoice Sunday of Advent, it is hard to summon up joy. When we close our eyes, it is the faces of slaughtered children that stare back at us, it is news reports of carnage that ring in our ears, it is nightmares that flood our dreamscapes. Where does joy come from in a time saturated with sorrow?

I thank God for the lectionary, the 3 year cycle of prescribed Bible readings for use in worship and study. The lectionary, if followed, keeps us from selecting "pet" scriptures to which we return repeatedly at the expense of other scripture. If not for the lectionary, what are the odds that many of us would have spent time today with the prophet Zephaniah, looking for joy? And here we find our source of joy, in the midst of any circumstance. The God of the universe is here with us, rejoicing over...us. We will be gathered to God, a gathering that is not just a heavenly gathering, but one that can begin here and now. Like a loving Father, God will save and rescue. Like a loving Mother, our God gathers us to God's bosom, and brings us home.

Rejoice, brothers and sisters.