...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.

...the darkness hide thee

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, 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.

...let me be?

Take My Life and Let It Be

Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to thee;

Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of thy love.

Take my love, my God, I pour at thy feet its treasure store;

Take myself and I will be ever, only, all for thee.

---Frances R. Havergal, 1874

Confession time, readers: most modern hymnals get this title right. But I grew up singing out of the white 1975 Baptist Hymnal, which told me the title of this hymn was, indeed, not “Take My Life and Let It Be Consecrated", but “Take My Life and Let It Be". Could two phrases be any more different? One asks of God, “Take the gift of this life and make of it something holy, dedicated to you in whatever it finds to do.” The other is the ultimate modern ‘gotcha’ statement: “Take my life…well, no, I need to borrow it back to accomplish these very important things for myself…ok, here you go, God…nope, need it back, good times to enjoy….ok, all yours now….well, take my life, but LET ME BE is what I really mean.”

Are you ready to pour the treasure store of your love, your very life, at the feet of God? Do you want God to let your life be consecrated, or just to let you be?

...shadowed glory

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, 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 --- 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.

...that kind of breathing

Breathe on me, Breath of God, fill me with life anew,

That I may love what Thou dost love,

And do what Thou wouldst do.

Breathe on me, Breath of God, until my heart is pure,

Until with Thee I will Thy will,

To do and to endure.

---Edwin Hatch, 1878

There is a holiness about a small child, snuggled under your chin, sleeping soundly. There is a deep, even, peaceful breathing that is like no other sound or sensation on this earth; and before you even realize it, you have fallen under its spell. Your breath pattern speeds or slows, shallows or deepens, and matches the child in your arms. In an elemental way, in that moment, you will what that child wills. A holy moment.

I wonder if perhaps hymnist Edwin Hatch had experienced such a high holy moment, whether he called it to remembrance as he penned these words. Imagine, if you can, matching your breath to the very breath of a living God. Breath that would enliven, empower, inspire, embolden. Breath that would draw you into communion with a God Who has been in love with you since the beginning of time, wanting nothing more than to breath in unison with you. Breath that would fill you like that. I could use some of that.

Breathe on me, Breath of God…

...no journey for the faint-hearted

Let all mortal flesh keep silence, and with fear and trembling stand;

Ponder nothing earthly minded, for with blessing in His hand

Christ our God to earth descendeth, our full homage to demand.

---Liturgy of St. James, 5th cent.

Friends, we step this day onto holy ground; crossing what is sometimes called in Celtic spirituality a ‘thin place’ between one world and another. For this day we begin to mark the Coming, the welcoming not only of the Babe to the manger but of the reign of God in our hearts and in the world. And where we welcome God’s reign, not one thing can remain the same --- not one social construct, not one ‘good old day’, not one stone left on stone. This Advent, this coming, is no journey for the faint-hearted.

So, on the cusp of this new year --- between the brokenheartedness of our shortcomings, our failures, our disappointments, and the possibility, the chance, the prayer that all things will be made new --- let us stand still, silent, awed by the holiness of God come to us as ‘us’. From our eyes, from our hands, from our minds fall any considerations aside from this holiness.

And we worship.