The Solemnity of The Most Holy Trinity

Rublev's icon of the Holy Trinity is as close to perfect theology as I have come to experience.  It is Truth, Beauty and Goodness dynamically inviting to be encountered.  When I first let myself be taught by this image I began to see the Trinity revealed everywhere!

When Macbeth is trying to grasp the truth that is his devastated life he grasps for metaphor upon metaphor…three in all:

     Life's but a walking shadow…
     a crappy actor...
     a tale told by an idiot without ultimate meaning…

When I visit a stranger in the hospital and somehow she gifts me in the very act of receiving me, there is then another presence…room is made for the Holy Spirit.  Suddenly we are able to love one another, strangers though we are.

When I look into creation from the tiniest of particles to the vastness of space, it is all that is "in-between" that somehow holds and gives meaning to the "stuff."

What is in-between is what makes a dance, a dance.  It is life.  It is love.  It is God.  May Truth, Beauty and Goodness be made visible to me and through me this day.  May I see the face of Christ "in-between" and everywhere.

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Morning Prayer on an Ordinary Friday...

Today's gospel reading from Mark has at the center the Marcan "Temple Cleansing".  That incident is sandwiched by the cursed and then withering fig tree.  And it concludes with some encouragement about prayer.  The nature of prayer has been on my mind.

I admit to some real confusion about prayer.  As a hospital chaplain I am close to many patients and families whose prayers are not answered.  Just last week there was a minister's wife who had been keeping vigil bedside of her husband.  She recounted his many selfless works and his missionary life.  "If God doesn't heal him, I simply don't get it."  This complaint against God comes often.  And yet, for the most part, it is shouted in psalmist style…in other words, without calling God an "outright fraud."

But in today's reading Jesus says "Therefore I tell you, all that you ask for in prayer, believe that you will receive it and it shall be yours."  As the one not experiencing the grief of losing a husband, I have the luxury of pondering what kind of healing God might have in mind for his dedicated servant.  Sometimes I wonder if most of us get too comfortable at the foot of the cross where our pain and suffering are so intense and real.  But Easter is on the other side...we have to go through it.  And going through involves work and change and overcoming fear.

Often I am gifted with meeting family members long after their loved one has died in the hospital.  And having gone through that cross, they can then see, in retrospect…always in retrospect…the grace therein.  May the witness of their real wrestling with and searching for the presence of God build up my faith.  And, at my next cross, may that strengthened faith support me in the darkness of the  "going through."  Amen.

8th Week…Ordinary Time

Sometimes just thinking about the liturgical day, week, or season makes me reflect on the passage of time.  It makes me ponder the holiness of time.

There is a misty fog this morning as I sit here on this Thursday, of the 8th week of Ordinary Time.  The offering of the day is the story of Bartimaeus, the blind beggar in Mark's Gospel.  He is so certain that Jesus can heal him.  He hides nothing.  The onlookers try to stop him.  I am both Bartimaeus and an onlooker.  I sometimes trust.  I sometimes allow myself to be nakedly open.  But at other times I believe I am a bit of a pretender.  My words and speech say one thing but my body and my life say another.  I ridiculously attempt to hide my deepest brokenness from God…a lack of faith for sure.  "No…God can't forgive, or heal, or find grace in THAT part of me."

This day, I pray that I may be nakedly open in Bartimaeus style, that forgiveness, and healing, and grace may abound in me and through me, as gift to those I encounter this Thursday, the 8th week of Ordinary Time.  And may attentiveness hallow the gift of this day.  Amen.

Psalm 78

"I will open my mouth in a parable" the Psalm says.

How will I speak of God this day?  When I think of a parable I see a short play.  It may even be a mime where everything speaks.  I've been told that no matter how well I think I am hiding my true feelings, they shout from my eyes, my arms, my breathing, my shoulders…from all of me!

Lord, this day, may this body evangelize with gentleness, and movement, and even words.  May it be so real that I don't even notice how real it is.  Give me the grace to be one with you…this day.