I HAVE BEEN A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND

I have been a stranger in a strange land,

where my compass failed and every step was

labored and directionless. I prayed; I listened;

you said, Come out of the shadows. Barely

visible above a silhouetted slope, a gold-red

sliver broke the firmament, restored my

equilibrium, and gave me hope. Because I

asked, you spoke. Because you showed me

heaven’s glorious awakening, I promised, I will

follow you. Before the sun went down, I had

forgotten all of it, and even now, beset by

doubts, I wander off, disoriented, lost. Again

you take my hand and lead me from a

treacherous and twisted path onto a high,

straight, sunlit road. Friends wait, you say,

hospitably at this day’s journey’s end. And so it

is that to my left are shade at noontime and a

place to rest, and to my right, a dozen steps

beyond, fresh water gushes from a spring

between two ancient moss-clad stones. In you

I lack for nothing; I have all I need. With you

beside me, I am not alone. I lean upon your

strength; it never stumbles. Night holds neither

mystery nor terror, though the moon is dark,

the stars dim. At the cusp of morning, redbirds

interrupt the silence with their song, and

poplars and acacias whisper, Carry on—

anticipating dawn.

Amen.

Terrified of Bliss

Angels with the Blessed Virgin -- Botticelli



 A PRAYER TO MY ANGELS



O ye angels, fly to me
and lift me out to sea, above
the waves that rest but never sleep
while there is work undone.
Perhaps the sea’s an angel too;
it has the timeless job to do
of cleansing this untidy earth
and birthing it anew.

Galatea — Raphael

O ye angels, carry me
upon thy wings, a brief escape,
then stay a bit, I beg of thee,
and help me concentrate.
My mind, it likes to creep away;
in vain I order it to stay
and serve the purpose I’m about;
but it’s gone out to play.


O ye angels, lend thy power
to my responsibilities;
I seek the effort of an hour
before my labors cease.
I have no gold to save or spend,
nor do I want thine, angel friends;
instead I need thine energy
when lethargy begins.


At last, ye angels, when the task
is finished and the cottage neat,
I’ll have but one more boon to ask:
my prayers lay at God’s feet.

THE JOY OF THE LIGHT OF GOD



Alleluias rolled from the east



What are we waiting for? Why do we

hesitate? For here and plain as dawn

when every demon of the night has

fled, we see the joy of the light

of God. We need only step out of

the mist—no odyssey have we

to undertake or foe pursue, no

secrets to discover. There is only love to

be accepted, met with gratitude... now

only happiness to claim. Anxiety, regret

and shame—these were the evils

that evaporated as we watched. No

sooner were they gone than Alleluias

sweet and strong rolled from the east

and would have swept us off our feet

and carried us aloft, had we not clung

to earth, so terrified of bliss we are if it

should cost surrender of the shreds

of skin we still identify as “us.” The

lungs, the bones, contorted hands

and feet; the pain, disease, decay are

us, we say? As if God meant us to be

temporary, having used up our

allotted days, too old and slow to

overtake the measured plodding step

of entropy. But we are woven of a

better fabric, one that grows more

durable with wear and time and testing.

Still we hesitate, though faith has been

replaced by certainty.

St. Francis of Assisi with Al Kamil -- 15th century

With reluctance mixed with fascination

do we draw a little nearer, inches at a time.

We cringe when light falls full upon us

and the unfamiliar frightens us. We are

accustomed to the cold, the dark, and sink

into delirium as we might fall upon a rotting

pallet in a beggar’s squalid inn, when our

soul’s comfort and security, clarity of sight,

the soundness of the body, heart repaired

and spirit whole are certain, not mysterious

as once they were, remote, the whisper

of a promise too ethereal to tempt the

desperate, the wanderers in need of solid

benefits, of food and shelter. Isn’t it more

sensible to hesitate? God isn’t going anywhere.

 LOVE STICKS

Love comes later, in the wake of pain,
like rescue after piracy. Sometimes the

buccaneers escape with their ill-gotten
gains and damn the bodies and the sailors
who survived. These are forgotten or
outshone by treasure seized according to the
code of honor thieves and brigands go by.

Guardian angels

I have love. Sometimes I keep it chained but it escapes eventually. The chase is
futile. I pursue it anyway, at
least to see where it alights. I’ve little
hope of catching it but I can sabotage
attachment anyway until it flickers
out of sight.


Both love and I know which of us is wiser,
stronger, and more patient. Truth be told,
I’d really rather give the game up, let love
lead, but ego won’t permit me to, not
yet at any rate, though soon, I’ll wager.
It feeds on my weakness, and I’m weary
now, as one becomes from filibustering.
Its loyalty is oddly given, not bestowed where I would choose. It forms unsuitable
alliances and clings tenaciously. I
win, it says and flashes me a saucy
grin, and so do you. It’s only face you
lose. I’ll get it back to you.


Love is like a tireless suitor, one who
could have gone away for good but stays to
tease me, plays a waiting game. I
wonder if it plans to catch me up in
some transgression. Hardly likely, as it’s
had a million chances. Still it sticks as if to
lure me, which is curious. It surely knows
I don’t deserve it. 

My Whole Life a Prayer

Fra Angelico, Communion of Saints

On the Sermon “When God Doesn’t Listen”

1. The Sermon

A painting by Fra Angelico depicting joy in Heaven

According to the Rev. Mr. Francis Chan, when your prayers aren’t answered, it's because your life isn’t in order. God is pretty serious about what it means to follow him... no matter what the cost.

In prayer (advises Mr. Chan), you must not "just start talking to God, saying what you want to say. You don’t just start opening your mouth and saying careless things before God. You could pray all week and God never hear a word you say. God’s actually disgusted by some of our prayers," Mr. Chan avers.

In support of this contention, Mr. Chan quotes Scripture:

• Peter 3:7 -- Husbands, live with your wives in an understanding way... so that your prayers will not be hindered
• James 4:3 -- You ask and don’t receive because you ask wrongly, to spend on your own passion
• Isaiah 58 -- People pray and fast and then come before God in sackcloth and ashes, and God says, “Is that what I wanted? I want to break every yoke. Share your bread with the hungry.... Then shall your light break forth with the dawn. Then you shall call and the Lord will answer... if you take away the yoke from your midst and take in the homeless.... [Go out and share yourself with the needy; I want you to be givers....]"
• The prayer of an unrighteous person avails nothing. (A reading of James 5:16)

2. A Rebuttal or, Perhaps, a Clarification

Jeremiah 31:31-33 "The time is coming," declares the LORD, "when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah.... This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel after that time," declares the LORD. "I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people.”

Angel with cymbals in medieval work--Fra Angelico?

The passage is reiterated in Hebrews 10:16 with the presumption that it was the Christ who embodied the new covenant.

Here is “Matthew Henry's [1662-1714] Concise Commentary”:

[Regarding Hebrews 10:11-18] Under the new covenant, or gospel dispensation, full and final pardon is to be had. This makes a vast difference between the new covenant and the old one. Under the old, sacrifices must be often repeated, and after all, only pardon as to this world was to be obtained by them. Under the new, one Sacrifice [on the cross] is enough to procure for all nations and ages, spiritual pardon, or being freed from punishment in the world to come. Well might this be called a new covenant. Let none suppose that human inventions can avail those who put them in the place of the sacrifice of the Son of God. What then remains, but that we seek an interest in this Sacrifice by faith; and the seal of it to our souls, by the sanctification of the Spirit unto obedience? So that by the law being written in our hearts, we may know that we are justified, and that God will no more remember our sins.

Hieronymous Bosch, 1450-1516, of  St. Jerome at prayer

Is it true that “the prayer of an unrighteous person avails nothing”? This pronouncement is inferred by some but by no means all commentators from James 5:15-16: And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him. Therefore confess [your] [[faults]] sins one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.

And what of the unrighteous woman who is sick to death of herself and asks only that God lift her from despair? Out of such prayers have come uncounted victories over pain... lives renewed and dedicated to building the kingdom of God on earth.

Who among us is righteous? And who is there who does not doubt? Even Jesus thought that he had been forsaken. If you doubt, you doubt. You can’t pretend for God; he knows your heart. You can’t pretend to yourself; you’ll crash and burn. You can only pray, “Lord, I believe. Help thou my unbelief.”

Jesus gave only two laws: Love God, love your neighbor as yourself. He came to fulfill the law, to preach the truth that makes us free. Yes, we should pray for God’s will to be done in us. We have wants, needs, and inclinations that, by the grace of God, point us to our reason for being alive. But that realization often comes through prayer and meditation, and until it does, wouldn’t God rather we turn to him, warts and all, than not approach him because we are flawed? Doesn’t he forgive seventy times seven and more?

ISN’T THAT THE GOSPEL -- THE GOOD NEWS? That if we open our hearts to God, he will cleanse them, renew them, incline them toward the “creative good”? And our mistakes become, as the wonderful English mystery writer Dorothy L. Sayers wrote some seventy years ago, “compost” to nourish the seeds of eternal life we carry... mistakes to be atoned for but not borne as an unshakable burden.

All roads lead to God, but there is much to be discovered along the detours... wisdom, compassion, humility... and perhaps a better sense of direction.

Praying is the one thing that is always right. I love the Jewish practice of giving thanks and asking blessings for just about everything, from handwashing to having a conversation. “Just as I am,” I talk to God and listen to him whenever I am moved to do so. I do not yet "pray without ceasing," but that is what I aim toward. I would like to have my whole life be a prayer.
 
3. The Rhythm of the Day

To wake at five a.m., and pray, assess
the day— it rains— and smile and say,
“Good morning, Jane, and many thanks,
how does your little Kylie?” to the maid
who brings my customary coffee, very
strong, and toast and berries, and to truly
feel relieved when she replies, “Why, Kylie’s
better, finally! Her fever’s gone; she’s even
been outdoors to take the air.” To say,
“Thank God!” and mean it....

Kate Greenaway

Now alone again, indulging in my
love affair with coffee for the moment,
savoring the scent, remembering the
humble bean that with its cousins starts the
hearts of millions in a ritual repeated
‘round the globe, those spirits kindred to my
own for whom a cup of tea is most
ungenerous indeed with flavor and
caffeine— A little note to Jane: “I need your
recipe, my angel; I can’t make the
coffee zing the way you do. Perhaps you
might give me a lesson.”

Then to bless with all my soul the baker
of the bread, the picker of the berries,
not forgetting all the others— growers,
drivers, bankers, clerks— whose work is
to ensure that Jane has fruit and fiber
on my tray at five-fifteen a.m.... There
is no condescension here; I merely
try to not take anything for granted
and to wish them well and hope that they’re as
glad I purchase what they grow and sell as
I am that they’ve done it, and I add a
blessing for the ones whose bosses lack
compassion; as an afterthought, repentantly,
I bless unpleasant bosses too.

Arising then, I wash and dress, then
meditate, or the reverse, whichever
has become my habit— that’s the point: to
be methodical and thoughtful, too; and
then the mitzvah: This one is for ritual, the
first I’ll do today, but not the last. Perhaps an
aspidistra for my aunt Elizabeth,
recovering from shingles, such an awful
case of them, will cheer her up. I’ll visit
her this afternoon but send the florist
with the plant ahead.

Alas! The cook is on vacation, so I
put the chicken in the crock pot with the
carrots and potatoes and the broth and
set the dial to “Low”— my nemesis is
that I usually forget to turn it on— Oh,
that all nemeses were as innocuous.

Kate Greenaway

I plan my day permitting spontaneity and
set aside some time for company— I’m
such a hermit otherwise— but there is
much to do domestically, professionally, and
once I would have looked askance at all the
tasks, especially the nastiest, the ones that
I despise (in my case, it's the telephone),
and I would have moaned and gotten back in
bed, but now I’m swept along by plans made
in advance and by the rhythm of my life.

There is no Jane, no coffee brought to me in
bed, no cook, no florist whom I can afford,
it seems; this isn’t even my routine. I
have no servants, wish I did, but first things
first:

To have such discipline, to think ahead, to
do what’s necessary with attention,
joy, humility, but in addition
to have time and energy for many
chosen things to fill my calendar— this
is all my aspiration, this my dream; but
to bring order out of chaos somehow,
to have an easy chair, one overstuffed and
slipcovered in, I think, white linen;
visitors — I need to love...
these are what I wish for,
these would be
enough for
now--
order, chair, and
friends; these
three are
ever
in my
prayers.