Category Archives: faith
The whole world comes alive when the sun rises. One by one, two by two they emerge from east, from west, from every way and every other way, whole flocks together as if a heavenly call has gone out and they're heeding its message. Is it the rays, the light, the glimmer that bids them come? the oranges, reds, the magenta that dazzles and displays? or something else I can't see, can't hear, can't comprehend? Is there a knowing I don't know? A joke I'm not in on? Ashore, I stand mired...heavy...earthen. the only unflighted one of morning. Astonished at their soaring, gliding, joyful shouting, "Here I am!" "Coming!" "Wait for me!" Guzzling the good, good news of morning. What a glorious day has come and is coming when we, weighted and terribly terrestrial loosen our ties and shed the lashing pinning our wings. And, with the rest, come alive in the new day.
“You don’t actually believe all that crap, do you?”
There is a good bit of historical record from the time of Jesus. Archaeological. Temples. Cities. Edifices. But unlike the way those today would proclaim their King-dem, the life Jesus led would not be signaled in artifact or chiseled into stone. The life Jesus lived is etched in all of time and for all time. It lasts as we last to tell it. It's reborn in us each Christmas. Rediscovered with each birth of new life -- in us -- And renewed with each loving act. Holy crap! What was that? I didn't know I had it in me.
What makes art, art? What makes worship, worship? What makes beauty, beautiful? what wants to be expressed? longs to come out, to be displayed, to be offered, as gift of delight, inspiration or awe. what wants to take shape? to be recognized, to be known, to be understood, as the beauty, the spark, that responds. The. Oh! Ahh... Yesss! of art, worship, beauty, the trinity of emotion, drawing out the hidden, invisible, still. unlike the cough, which the tickle propels, unlike the sneeze, which the dust mite ignites, unlike even the rage, which erupts from the hurting No. This. This calls from outside, from elsewhere, to neither erupt, propel or ignite It calls out, calls up, evokes and elicits; It compels, yes, without my permission, yet absent inhibition. I gasp. I startle. I laugh. Where did you come from? Flowing from me but surely not of me; Yet, not a surprise to me. this joy this awe this wonder This worship This oneness This humanity The hidden, invisible and still, has been waiting inside me For what art sees what beauty says what God does to bring me to life.