Gardening and Moving

Lots is happening in my life, especially as I contemplate God's mercy and generosity. Soon R. and I shall move from a home that has given us true sanctuary through its quietness and the beauty of its interior aesthetic details and the courtyard garden we created. This spring perennial garden is almost past its prime, though a few coral bells and fragrant confederate jasmine still bloom. Soon the deep blue of the plumbago will appear, along with the fiery pink of the graceful crepe myrtle that shades the patio. With so much rain the garden greenery is growing by leaps and bounds. After years of drought, each plant seems stunned into delight to experience this watery abundance that no irrigation system, no matter how much moisture it puts out, can replicate in the same way those dark clouds do. Today in church we sang "There's a wideness in God's mercy", and I felt like weeping. I am so grateful for that wide mercy as my usual irritability during transitions kicks in. I pray I can spare some mercy for the poor souls who have to endure me as change occurs.

Only speak the word...

What a remarkable and surprising breath of fresh air is the centurion of Luke's gospel as he, through third parties, seeks the healing of his slave. "Only speak the word..." he counsels Jesus from afar, and across the miles, across whatever differences separate us culturally and spiritually, across the polarizing taboos that keep us from meeting each other face to face, I know my slave will be made well. Just speak the word. The slave, lowest of the low in the human pecking order, is held by the centurion as being highly valued. This might mean he could bring a good price on the auction block, but I believe the centurion holds the slave's life as valuable, as precious, in its own right. Let us speak the word to those our society considers unworthy about how precious they are in our sight. Speak the word to fight against the pervasive reasoning that those at the poorest and least powerful end of the social spectrum don't deserve food stamps and low-income housing and good health care and good education. Speak the word....

Living in a zone of trust

This morning I woke up wondering what the disciples did on the day after Pentecost. Surely they were fired up, ready to go, after all that empowering wind nearly knocked them over and those tongues of fire electrified them into action. Could they even get to sleep after such an amazing experience? Did they stay up far into the night, talking to each other over a few cold brews about what it all meant? Did the ancient papparazzi hound them for an accounting when they stepped out into the sunshine? Were they still able to be understood by people with different languages, or were they scoffed at for acting like drunkards? Whatever happened on the day after, I think they finally began to know what it meant to live in a zone of trust. The journey beyond themselves was underway.

Breath of God

I'm listening to one of my favorite Pentecost hymns, "Breathe on me, Breath of God," and thinking of a line from another song by Robbie Williams.  "There's a hole in my soul, you can see it in my face." What happens when God's breath enters us, seeking to empower and transform us, and, then, because of our compromises and manipulations of the truth within us, that holy air just leaks out through the hole in our soul, as if we have congestive soul failure. Today I pray for that hole in my soul to begin closing up, so in the days to come I won't waste God's breath. It is too precious, too enlivening, for me to allow one breath to escape into the ether without my faithful witness to what its power and love can do in my relationships and work.

Whoo-Whee! R. and I finally, after over 7 years living near the Dean Dome, went to a basketball game. What a spectacular show!! 25,000 roaring fans packed under the dome; cheerleaders doing heart-stopping gymnastics; sequined-topped dancers moving to the brassy band; and a UNC team at the top of its form, demolishing the opposition by nearly 30 points. Revenge for an earlier game they lost by 30 points. It's an incredible experience, and we are so grateful to friends for inviting us.

Followed today by officiating at a funeral in Louisburg. The contrasts of experiences through which we move from day to day are sometimes like being on a roller-coaster. I finished the homily just before leaving for the game yesterday. From somber, theological reflection to shouting my lungs out for five super-humans. Crazy!

Robins in the treetops

Robins, robins! In the treetops along Booker Creek, a whole swarm of robins singing out their little bird hearts!! Spring must be on the way. Even the candytuft in the front yard are blooming, at least a month ahead of time. We will witness an interesting transition into true spring, and one thing is certain. We have no control over this rhythmic cycle of the seasons, no way to make the daffodils or the forsythia to hold up on their budding process. All we can do is watch it unfold and trust that the plants are much smarter than we are in how to deal with early springs.

Opera and politics

A lazy Sunday afternoon on a cold, wet January day. I did my homework for the class I'm taking at church with 14 other women on embodiment and the Body of Christ. Very dense reading and a good challenge for my aging brain. Yesterday R. and I saw a splendiferous opera, "The Enchanted Island", thanks to the Metropolitan Opera's downcast into a local theater. It was as grand as "grand opera" should be with lovely baroque arias revitalized with English text that re-enacted Shakespeare's "The Tempest" with some shades of "Midsummer Night's Dream." Lots of literary license here, but all to the good!

I'm feeling pretty cranky about the absurd emphases and responses of the Republican "hopefuls" for president as they speak to issues that are deeply relevant to people's lives. They are not providing much hope to those who aren't "successful" or "hard working" and seem to relish the thought of pulling the rug out from under 40 million people who in 2014 would finally have health insurance, not because they have earned it, but because it's what a caring nation is willing to provide. To me, "Am I my brother's keeper?" seems the most relevant ? in politics today. When I watch the reactions in the Republican debates to some of what I consider the most outlandish statements, I feel like I'm listening to a rabid mob who would lynch me instantly for believing in the interrelatedness of all creation, especially all human beings. Individualism, The Market, and Free Enterprise have become gods that I don't recognize, because they have nothing in common with the One who died penniless and criminalized on a cross for all people, not just for the educated and well-do-do.