Archive for Mystery

Children of God

The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!” And he said to them, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread upon serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you; but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

In that same hour he rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, “I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to babes; yea, Father, for such was thy gracious will.

Luke 10:17-21

 

The seventy were giddy with excitement. They had experienced power and they had done great work. They knew the source of that power:  “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!” They were charged up, ready to go again–you can practically hear them exclaiming, “Whoa! It was awesome!” And it must have made Jesus smile.

He gives them a caution, redirecting their joy to its true source in saving grace, but that doesn’t erase the pleasure he surely feels. Later that same hour, he rejoices in God’s presence that these openhearted seventy have taken it in whole.

I love reading about that moment when Jesus was happy. He spent so much time trying to get the message across to people who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, listen or understand that the kingdom had come near. Saying the same thing over and over, coming up with so many parables, explaining the scriptures, sparring with skeptics–just imagining the effort is exhausting.

But this day is different. God gave them an opportunity, and people grasped a revelation. Like excited children they returned with joy, and Jesus, with tender affection, rejoices and gives thanks.

Feeling

"Oberfallenberg 11" by böhringer friedrich - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons

“Oberfallenberg 11” by böhringer friedrich – Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5 via Wikimedia Commons

 

What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all men life and breath and everything. And he made from one every nation of men to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their habitation, that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel after him and find him. Yet he is not far from each one of us…  (Acts 17: 23-27)

 

I’ve been away for a while, and I’m feeling a bit rusty, but I have a small thought to share. Just some impressions really–not even a thought.

I read the lectionary passages early this morning as I was sitting looking out at my grey, pre-sun backyard, waiting for the birds and chipmunks to stir and come looking for food at the feeder outside my window. And as I looked, I thought about the God who made the world and all the nations “in the hope that they might feel after him and find him.”

What does it mean to “feel after God?” Do we reach out with mind and spirit–as if shuffling in a mist with hands outstretched–stepping into the cloud of unknowing, trusting we will touch or be touched by the Divine? Is he waiting somewhere, or does he move in the mist to lead us on a chase? And I wonder, when we find him, will we trust what we feel? Will we recognize him by what we feel?

I am not a trusting soul. I am wary. And this shuffling in the mist could all be very frustrating were it not for the words, “in the hope that they might feel after him and find him.”

I think of God hoping to be found. (“Come on, reach for me.”) The Lord of heaven and earth, and yet not far from each one of us….

 

Touching joy

 

…the essence of our nature is to touch
the joy from which creation comes.

 

From “Ordinary Love” by eraquinas (Aquinas Woodworth)
via NextScribe

A dart of longing love

 

A brief meditation in a series of daily Lenten videos from the Society of St. John the Evangelist.

 

 

 

A small aside: I love seeing the passion, the smiles, and especially the hands on this page.