...in all life

To all, life Thou givest, to both great and small;

in all life Thou livest, the true life of all;

we blossom and flourish as leaves on the tree,

and wither and perish – but naught changeth Thee.

---Walter Chalmers Smith, 1867

This mid 19^th century hymn of praise tackles a tough issue for many God-seekers of all eras: the unknow-ability of God. God, invisible, hidden, inaccessible. Over centuries, millennia, from the dawn of humankind, folk have been searching for a face for God; usually the one we come up with is an awful lot like our own. Having an invisible God doesn’t suit a human race that likes visibility. Thus, we erect statues. We paint icons and frescoes. We weave tapestries. We create stories full of personification and pronouns. We fall short. Every time. Our minds are too small for the vastness of God’s identity.

And that’s ok. Because with every rendering, parable, grasping simile, we stretch ourselves to glimpse a little more of the God-ness of God. In this hymn, Walter Chalmers Smith grasped just a bit, I think. God gives life to all, great and small. God lives a true life in all. God lives in all. …God lives in all? If God is present in all life, perhaps we need not look too far to catch a glimpse of God’s glory. Perhaps I need only look into your eyes, and you need only look into mine.

...in the chaos, in the calm

Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide thee,

though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see;

Only thou art holy; there is none beside thee,

Perfect in power, in love, and purity.

---Reginald Heber, 1826

It has been a little while (ahem) since I last studied child development, so this week I did a bit of refreshing on the concept of ‘object permanence’. The theory behind object permanence is this: once human comprehension develops to a certain level, we can grasp the idea that objects can exist, even when we cannot see them. I was imagining that the age for developing this sense might be a year to 18 months old, and was surprised to find that current research supports a range of three to eight months as the time frame for this understanding to emerge. Imagine how terrifying a game of peekaboo would be for a young child with no sense of object permanence --- when you cover up your face, you are actually gone!

Though we would all agree that God is not object, this hymn suggests that a sense of object permanence is necessary in visioning Godself, for us individually and as a people. At times both the shadows of this world --- hate, violence, disregard, presumption --- and the shadows of our own souls --- hurt, fear, envy, pain, disappointment --- keep us from laying eyes on the glory, the evidence, of God’s presence with us. None of those shadows, though, none of them, keep the reality of God’s presence from us.

As we, then, whatever our stage of human or divine development, seek a sense of communion with Holiness, may we remember: seen or unseen, hidden or revealed, speaking or silent, God is with us, close as breath, holy.

...glory to glory

Finish then Thy new creation, pure and spotless let us be;

Let us see Thy great salvation perfectly restored in Thee:

Changed from glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place,

Till we cast our crowns before Thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise.

---Charles Wesley, 1747

Restored and finished. Charles Wesley, in the mid-1700’s, used these words to envision the fulfillment of God’s dream for humanity. With a love that surpasses any other concept of love, God continues to “create” us, to draw us toward purity, rendering out anything that blurs our essential essence. This verse is an encouragement to me, as I often feel God must not quite be done with me yet! With each new day, God’s love transforms us, glory to glory, allowing each of us to become more of who we were always meant to be. What a God we worship, Whose creation is not limited to a one-time act, but happens over and over to create and re-create us as whole, complex, and complete!

It’s enough to lose ourselves in wonder, love, and praise….

...out of our huts

Strengthened by this glimpse of glory, fearful lest our faith decline,

We, like Peter, find it tempting to remain and build a shrine.

But true worship gives us courage to proclaim what we profess,

That our daily lives may prove us people of the God we bless.

---Carl P. Daw, 1988

We look, in these days, for worship that ‘wows’ us, worship that impresses, that astounds. We want to be fed, enraptured, thunderstruck. We want to wish to stay forever, to keep coming back for more, to never ‘let this feeling end’. We want ‘this’, always.

We want, in some strange way, to build a hut, to pull God in through the doorway, to hide away this glittering holiness, this shimmering lightness, all for us, for all time.

But see here. Worship is no glittering destination, no rapturous ‘fix’ for the faithful. Worship, rather, is challenging, inspiring, transformative. And, once transformed, a worshiping people are a working people, compelled by our transformation to lift up what is fallen, to bind up what is broken, to lighten what is burdensome, to reconcile what is torn. 

Out of the huts with us. It is time to let transformation do its work. To live as people of God.

...pass-along gifts...mighty good tidings

Arise, your light is come! The Spirit’s call obey;

show forth the glory of your God, which shines on you today.

Arise, your light is come! Fling wide the prison door;

proclaim the captive’s liberty, good tidings to the poor.

---Ruth Duck, 1974

We are so used to hearing the themes of Advent and Christmastide that they ring almost common in our ears, feel a bit bland rolling off our tongues…Light! Glory! Good tidings! When I stop and think about these things, they make me glad --- I need some good tidings, and some light, and a little glory to shine down on me! Yay, me!

Then hymnist Ruth Duck uses the prophet’s message from Isaiah to call my attention back to intention. Yes, some of that God-glory falls on me...but not to soak up and store. That glory, that light, those are pass-along gifts from a God who has called us as co-laborers in the life-work of lifting, reviving, nurturing, and restoring. These gifts? They were never meant for me, for us, to get and keep. This glory, this light, has always been destined for community.

And those, my friends, are mighty good tidings.

...healing at Christmas

Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all he brings, risen with healing in his wings.

Mild he lays his glory by, born that we no more may die,

born to raise us from the earth, born to give us second birth.

Hark! The herald angels sing, “Glory to the new-born King!”

---Charles Wesley, 1739

There is a danger in the carols of Christmas, one that threatens to deaden us to the wisdom hidden within. This danger is familiarity, the same quality that makes them beloved. Anywhere you go, you are apt to hear some version of this carol, sung or played by a wide variety of ensembles. Many of us could sing this carol in our sleep --- all three verses!

Our familiarity with this carol should not, however, blind us to the message of comfort and hope contained within. Hear these words anew: “Light and life to all he brings, risen with healing in his wings….” We all know that in the midst of the great joy of the season lurk illness, injury, grief, and sorrow. These are part of life, and do not miraculously disappear during Advent and Christmastide. But there is good news, even in darkness! There is one who brings light for our darkness, life for our dead places, and healing for what hurts us. In the middle of this tumultuous existence, Christ comes to meet our deepest needs.

Glory to the newborn King.

...footprints in snow

Show me you've been here.

It's what we all want, really, when we get down to it. Isn't it? We want to know who we can count on, to back us up, to stand with us when our knees tremble, to be present in our emptiness. We yearn for a sign, a signal, a whisper of with-ness.

Don't leave me to make my way through this confusing world on my own. Don't leave me to make sense of all the ways the pieces of my life don't fit together. Don't leave me to find my way to you. Don't leave me. Don't leave.

That feeling, that bit of proof that we're not alone? That is glory. That is revealing. That is the essence of presence. Like footprints in snow, glory shows me you've been here.

And the Word put on skin, and pitched a tent among us mortals, and we caught a glimpse of glory, the revealing of God's own son, radiating grace and truth.-John 1:14/para.laca.

...renewed for glory

You come, O Lord, with gladness, in mercy and goodwill,
 to bring an end to sadness and bid our fears be still.
In patient expectation we live for that great day
when your renewed creation your glory shall display.
---Paul Gerhardt, 1653

We are used, I think, to the idea of waiting on God to reveal Godself in the world. The thought of that kind of waiting is like slipping on a pair of old, comfortable blue jeans---worn smooth, weathered and stressed in the very spots that your body bends and stretches, faded and sun-bleached. Reassuring, comforting---no surprises with this pair of jeans. Waiting on God is what we are used to.

What if we found out, all this time, we should have been waiting for something else? Not as in something different, but something in addition to? What if, maybe, God has had something else in mind for the revealing?

What if God's glory is to be revealed, not just to us...but in us? 

What if, while we have been waiting on God, God has been...waiting...on us?

What if we are being renewed for the express purpose of revealing the glory of God in our world?

...pass-along glory

Arise, your light is come! The Spirit’s call obey;

show forth the glory of your God, which shines on you today.

Arise, your light is come! Fling wide the prison door;

proclaim the captive’s liberty, good tidings to the poor.

---Ruth Duck, 1974

We are so used to hearing the themes of Advent and Christmastide that they ring almost common in our ears, feel a bit bland rolling off our tongues…Light! Glory! Good tidings! When I stop and think about these things, they make me glad --- I need some good tidings, and some light, and a little glory to shine down on me! Yay, me!

Then hymnist Ruth Duck uses the prophet’s message from Isaiah to call my attention back to intention. Yes, some of that God-glory falls on me...but not to soak up and store. That glory, that light, those are pass-along gifts from a God who has called us as co-laborers in the life-work of lifting, reviving, nurturing, and restoring. These gifts? They were never meant for me, for us, to get and keep. This glory, this light, has always been destined for community.

And those, my friends, are mighty good tidings.

...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.