I am a wanderer. I would say that I am a seeker, but sometimes I have no idea what I might be seeking, so I will stick with wanderer. This blog is more a public journal than anything. I don't claim to have life figured out. I simply stumble from mystery to mystery, and share my reflections along the way. Sometimes I feel burdened, and trudge. Sometimes? Well sometimes grace breaks through, and its time to dance.
Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!
Arthur Darby Nock
Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes; The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.
"Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: 'God, I thank you that I am not like other men — robbers, evildoers, adulterers — or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.'
13 "But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me, a sinner.'
14 "I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."
"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. 32 All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
34 "Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
37 "Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
40 "The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'
Jack Kornfield tells of a story that comes out of the Jewish mystical tradition. It seems a great rabbi taught his disciples to memorize and meditate on teachings, and to place the lessons, the sacred words on their hearts. One day a follower asked the rabbi why you used the phrase "on your heart" and not "in your heart". The rabbi responded that it is not easy for such lessons to find their way into people's hearts, and that we "recite and learn them and put them on our hearts hoping that some day when our heart breaks they will fall in."
Our hearts can be broken in many ways.
I have never really seen this as an opportunity before, and yet......
For just as the branch cannot
bear any fruit unless it shares the life of the vine, so you can produce
nothing unless you go on growing in me. I am the vine itself, you are
the branches. It is the man who shares my life and whose life I share
who proves fruitful. For the plain fact is that apart from me you can do
nothing at all.
Was doing my morning ritual, reading a few "daily" type books
Comics, the really important read come next,
when I ran across a line from Hafiz I liked... nothing like reading Hafiz to get you in the mood for preaching about Moses...
"All of God , which is everything, is really so close, and caresses us
now and then if our senses are alert."
God is in the small thing!
As well as in friendship, intimacy, and deeper things.
This morning all the kids are home (the three mares are back from summer pasture)
and so I had to wander out early to feed them and Tres, our newly minted gelding,
and set the water in the pastures.
And God was really so close.
In the covey of quail that rushed from the brush pile
from the first golden kisses of the sun
In the eagerness of the "kids" for morsels
of wild hay and alfalfa
In the crispness of the air
and antics of Tess the cat
as she leapt and twisted
mighty hunter in pursuit of yet another grasshopper
In the quiet of my kitchen
as I, tasks completed
return to the warm of coffee
and the joy of greeting special friends (thank you social media)