GCM

What is life like in a cage when the lock is absent?

What if the keepers tote sound report but love you best with guilt, shame and fear…

control your gift of freedom, malign your redeemed name, undervalue your adoption, ask to become your gatekeeper to God,

what then?

In obedience do you too become a Pharisee, abiding within traditions’ constraints,

bending your will first to ones created?

How can we ask such questions?

Season for Patience

Boldness wanes with the hour
I am called and will come
At times I own the prophet’s fear – am I the only one?

Solo stance, nil recompense
Initial walk’s a blunder
My image is marred; I back pedal assailed, nigh asunder

Church with malaise unfelt
Find me sanctuary; Render rest and aid
I rebuke apathy, antagonism and labels of a crazed renegade

Time is of essence
It’s both now and not yet
Spirit, loose our chords together
The ripe fields wait for the bride to awake
Tethered faithful advance freedom; Claim stake

Masters of Fake Fruit

The swankier the store the more successful the fake foods in the kitchen section are at stimulating my rebellious salivary glands.

I’ve come to despise those artisans in plastics.

But I’m an artisan of my own sort, frequently surrounded by like kind. Our imitations are also good enough at first glance to fool, sadly, even ourselves, for a while.

Unlike masters in plastics whose creations outlast the lifespan of that which they imitate, ours tend to be an anemic companion to their counterpart. But as originals have come to rarity, the imitations, particularly good ones, are trendy enough to pass, for a while. But to what end?

What is this communion?

In my childhood a peer of mine posed a question to me like a sphinx on a road.

If you were in the middle of a conversation with someone and God told you to pray, would you:

A) Continue your conversation, ignoring the impulse, likely telling yourself you would pray later.
B) Wrap up your conversation and go somewhere private to pray.
C) Stop immediately and pray.

I answered ‘B’ and within the hour I paid the price for that incorrect response. The answer is C. Today I again challenge myself and possibly others – the answer is, stop immediately and pray.

What is this privileged communion?

This glorious incredulous option
Bowing my will, my motive, my care
Wise and essential abasement that sets my soul to flight
Communing with unspeakable Power
Encapsulated, if that were the plausible descript, in love
Words unneeded, true presence suffice
Sound and sometimes sight of hidden things of God
Faith to follow
Spirit provoked guttural impulses
Spurring many a blind obedience
What is this communion?
Sustenance, life, breath, water... all

Contemplating 'in'

I’m contemplating ‘in’. Dwelling in, abiding in… Christ’s love, Christ’s sacrifice… Christ, and my mind turns to the pool as I consider a tangible object lesson to reinforce my thoughts. Perhaps today would be the day for a swim. No one is at the pool. It’s peaceful, bright and beautiful. I set my two books, Bible and journal down and head up to my room to change. I hastily prepare and scold myself for not putting on sunscreen and I hear the Lord speak to my mind ‘you will not need it’. A pitter-patter is bouncing against my window unit. I head to the main stairwell only to realize the sky outside has ripped open and rain is violently assaulting everything unsheltered. A Jesuit seems transfixed in the stairwell looking out the window as if in an instant he has seen nature itself change without transition. And then I realize… my books! I bolt down the remaining three flights of stairs and sprint through the torrents to the pool spreading my towel as I come as if to cover my books before I get to them. In one movement I scoop them into my arms and fling the door to the pool's restroom open. As I gawk at them wide-eyed I can't help but laugh outloud as I futilely attempt to dry them off, their pages each one forever altered by the impact of the rain.

The object lesson echoes into me. Each time I read this Bible, I know I will not easily forget. I put my sopping wet books aside and dive into the pool. As I come to the surface the deluge turns to sprinkle and dissipates completely. No more than ten minutes had I been gone, the storm possibly only half of that time, and now a distilled quietness as the rain that watered the earth waters my soul.

To dive deeply into abiding in Christ is not solely an action of human will. In His omnipresence and power there is nothing that He does not cover, nothing that He does not wash that we might also think to dwell within. He rejoices in our choice of Him and pours Himself out not only where we seek Him and anticipate He might be contained but over everything we could possibly know and do. This is my uncontainable God.


Recorded on a Silent Retreat at a Jesuit facilitated Spirituality Center in May 2010.

Photo from the very peaceful island of Kauai last summer.

An answer to my fear

Just as the wasp or bee navigates through the blades of grass yet has the ability to fly through the open air without obstacle, so the Lord will safely guide me through the thinkings of men without clipping from me the divine wings with which I fly.

Let not fear of falling away from Him cripple my obedience to Him. Trust Him, abide, obey. If I fall, then I fall. He can lift me up if He sees fit. For I know He watches me, and I know He loves me.

Lord, let me not be deceived.

Prayer of Longing

You meet us where we are, communicate in ways we look for you, in ways we understand your message. You speak in parables to which we relate. And how blessed we are that you do, or we might never find you.

But I no longer want you to speak my language. How I long for you to teach me yours. Do not come Lord to where I am, rather call me to where you are. Let me walk with you, not you with me unless there is no other way.