- i've begun a new tradition. anybody who knows me knows i'm a sucker for ritual. i find repetition very sacred. for many, routine can breed a sense of disconnect and boredom, especially in their relationship with Jesus. i know plenty of people who attest to variety being the spice of their spiritual life, and that's perfectly fine. but, in a society that is crazed with a constant, unsatiable desire for perpetual stimulation, i can't help but wonder if we're always approaching God with a sense of of hyper-expectation. it seems as though we, as a collective, are always waiting for Him to blow us away with crazy, undeniable, cosmic signs and wonders. we're waiting for Him to part the red sea. to show up as a pillar of fire. we want manna from heaven. although, to be quite honest, we'd probably prefer if it was something a little more up to date, like eggplant parmigiana or california rolls.
- now, i'm not saying that God couldn't drop us some sushi from on high, but when i think about the circumstances surrounding the whole manna situation--wandering alone in the desert, waiting on a promise that seemed improbable-- if not downright nuts, the isrealites finding themselves embroiled in a whole new sort of rivalry with some crazy guys who seem to be the biblical equivalent of the wildboyz --i see how appropriately God intervened. His actions fit the situation. the situation was big and uncomfortable, and He acted in a big, uncomfortable way. i mean, it's pretty clear that the whole manna situation was not something joe isrealite was particularly pumped about. i think God provided in this way so that His people would learn to rely on Him, rather than His actions. and in the middle of all the madness, God was being a stickler for tradition. the tabernacle was no small thing. so much of the establishement of God's relationship with His people was rooted in routine. God knew that everything going on outside of the tabernacle was a threat to His interaction with His people. they got caught up--we get caught up--with all the semantics, worries, and pitiful drama that define being human. it's like God knew we wouldn't give Him the time of day unless He explicitly commanded it. (which, by the way, He did. what ever happened to that?) but, as usual, i've (sort of) meandered away from my point, so i digress...
- back to my new tradition.
- like many of the ascetics i count among my heroes, i've decided to commit to my own sort of daily church service. i've found a secret spot where i can watch the sun sink behind the mountains. i've developed my own sort of liturgy, and i'm going to do the same thing every day. i'm going to say the same prayers in the same spot at the same time every day and i'm going to see what God will do when He's given a definite, unhurried chunk of alone time. i expect to be bored, frustrated, surprised, and encountered. here's my favorite prayer from the bunch. it's called phos hilaron, or gladdening light, and (according to wikipedia) it's the earliest recorded non-biblical hymn that survives today.
- song of the light
- joyous light of glory,
- of the immortal Father,
- heavenly, holy, blessed Jesus Christ:
- we have come to the setting of the sun,
- and we look to the evening light.
- we sing to God, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
- You are worthy of being praised with pure voices forever.
- O son of God, O giver of Light,
- the universe proclaims Your glory.
- it's my moment, my deep breath.
i highly suggest finding your own way to exhale.
Comments
Hi Mary Beth,
I agree with you . What ever happen to the simplicity of Jesus? The wonder of being accepted and chased by His love?
You have a beautiful way with words, what a gift! Keep sharing. Thank you for keeping it simple. It's about all my brain can handle and all my heart desires.
God bless you