Shining Spirit

O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! (Psalm 8)

The Potomac River is at its spectacular best when it becomes Great Falls in Virginia.

When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, what is man?
A lesson in humility, wonder, and gratitude.
Indeed.

This was a dream in someone’s mind in 1720. That’s the date the Virginia General Assembly of the Episcopal Church created St. George’s Parish, now located in Fredericksburg, Virginia. Dreams really do come true, especially if the dreamer also has the courage, the resources, and the personal will to make it real. Walking around the sanctuary, sitting in one of the numbered pews with its little door on the end, standing in the pulpit, I felt the quiet presence of St. George’s saintly faithful. Churches have memories, this one three hundred years old. And they have histories.

So many remarkable people have knelt at the communion rail in this particular church. The list includes the family of George Washington. In the church’s adjacent graveyard are markers identifying William Paul Jones, the brother of John Paul Jones, and other recognizable names. James Monroe, the fifth President of the United States, had his law office a block away from the church and, as a life-long Episcopalian, was associated with the Parish. But churches are sustained over the years, the one over centuries, by common folk who faithfully guide the church with wisdom and courage. Perhaps in your prayers today
you could pray for your church and its leadership, for churches of all denominations as they speak to the world about faith. Whether your church is new or old, the message it brings to the world is universal and eternal. One other presence associated with this parish is the Holy Spirit of God, who is the insight, the will and the power to change the world through the famous and the unheralded alike. For that presence, the faithful bow in thanksgiving and trust, saying from their hearts: Thanks be to God.

It is a time of quiet still.
Early, yes; but not yet the dawn.
Whisper, speak softly lest
you wake the trees.

Walk gently through the wet
grass. Be mindful of the
little ones who sleep still,
nestled in the pine needles.

Prepare yourself for what is
about to happen. In moments
or minutes the world will be
transformed before your eyes.
Darkness and light will embrace
and very slowly all that exists
around you will come into focus.
You will see because of the Light.
Vision is always clearer when Light comes.

Listen for the birds’ songs, for they
are the heralds of Light. You will
know it is day when the singing begins.
You will know it is day when you
stand in wonder, hearing your
heart say: My Lord and my God.

May peace follow your steps today,
and may hope hold your hand.
See. The Light comes.

Amen

"For the beauty of the earth,
for the glory of the skies,
for the love which from our birth,
over and around us lies,
Lord of all to Thee we raise
this our hymn of greatful praise."

"For The Beauty Of The Earth"  Folliott Pierpoint  based on Ephesians 5:20

The colors of the season are wonderful. Everywhere you look there are murals of reds and yellows and so many glorious colors. Yesterday I drove the rural back roads, purposely avoiding busy highways, twisting and turning over the rolling landscape. On some of the narrow roads the trees have grown tall and they reach out to each other, making a tunnel of technicolor wonder. It was a blessing and a gift that I received gratefully.

But this one decided to pose in a particularly powerful way. While all those radiantly colored trees are stunning, this one, stripped bare by wind and time, suggests strength and endurance. The framework, the undergirding structure, is sound. It will leaf again in time, but for now it is a sacred reminder. Build a life with foundational principles of integrity, honesty, justice and compassion and that life will bloom and bless. The unseen structure holds it all together. That’s something Jesus taught over and over again. Kingdom principles sustain life through all kinds of challenges and changes.

A leafless tree among the beautifully robed ones teaches a vital lesson to all who have eyes to see. A leafless tree is beautiful, too.

My son and I sat on a small dock floating on Lake Anna, and he asked the question. It’s the question every person should be able to ask, but can’t Life circumstances don’t afford every one the opportunity to wonder. The question was: Dad, why is this so moving, this setting? Why do we feel a sense of calm when looking at something like this?

It’s the question that not everyone can ask; not those in slums or sterile neighborhoods, not those in Gaza or prisons or the wreckage of life. Maybe it is that not everyone, given their circumstances, has the opportunity to stand in a moment that is conducive to wonder. But, the question: why? Why does this move me so deeply?

I responded: the question is the answer to your question. We stand in awe, dumbstruck by the moment so that we can become conscious of the moment itself. Breathtaking, beautiful or barren, these insightful moments are like walking into another room, a room we didn’t know existed, and being surprised by wonder, by Wonder. These moments come for the sake of that moment. The alarm clock goes off inside everyone, but not everyone hears it. The whisper in your ear, the quiet presence of a dear friend; birth, death and lots of moments inbetween afford the possibility of asking: Why am I moved like this? What thrills me, or excites me, or calms me so right now?

The answer to the question is in the question. I wish you could have been there on the dock with the two of us. I wish you could have been there to wonder. Not every question has an answer. Sometimes the deep value of a moment is the moment itself. Wonder is everywhere, the silent companion whose name is Mystery.

Another good reason to look up. The colors! They are beautiful all through the day, but particularly in the mornings. There is something about those first rays of sunlight as they spill over the waking trees. A special radiance, a glow fills the air and the human eye.

Even if you don’t have colorful trees in your neighborhood, look up today. Literally and figuratively. Look up and give thanks for the wonder of life. Look up and praise. Look up and hope in faith.

Be a solution today, not a problem.
Be courage today, not complacency.
Be the first to say “Good Morning!” and the last to criticize.
Be on the lookout. Christ is working in the world.
Bless as you are blessed.
Press on.

When you go to the community gathering for worship at your church, do you feel a sense of expectancy? Is something out of the ordinary going to happen? Or, is it pretty much the same week to week? Richard Foster, in his book Celebration of Discipline, warns us about going through the motions of church worship.

“Just as worship begins in holy expectancy, it ends in holy obedience. If worship does not propel us into greater obedience, it has not been worship. To stand before the Holy One of eternity is to change. Resentments cannot be held with the same tenacity when we enter His gracious light. As Jesus says, we need to leave our gift at the altar and go set the matter straight. (Matthew 5)…to worship is to change. Holy obedience saves worship from becoming an opiate, an escape from the pressing needs of the world.”

To put it in the condensed version: If you don’t expect anything from worship, you get what you expect. Not open to change…no change. No anticipation of hearing the whisper of the Spirit…no sound. And, as important as “holy expectancy” is, it is to be matched by “holy obedience.” The Spirit moves through a congregation waiting to hear the words “here I am, Lord. Send me.” Holy expectancy on one end, holy obedience on the other. Stand by! That’s worship!