The eve of Pentecost
It has seemed to me sometimes as though the Lord breathes on this poor gray ember of Creation and it turns to radiance – for a moment, or a year, or the span of a life – and then it sinks back into itself again, and to look at it no one would know it had anything to do with fire or light.
That is what I said in the Pentecost sermon. I have reflected on that sermon, and there is some truth in it. But the Lord is more constant and far more extravagant than it seems to imply. Wherever you turn your eyes the world can shine like transfiguration. You don’t have to bring a thing to it except a little willingness to see.
The words of the narrator, a dying minister, to his son in Marilynne Robinson, Gilead
“… a little willingness to see.” These words jumped out at me. With so much going on in this world that feels tumultuous, dangerous, and tragic, being willing to see takes courage and determination. So maybe it's really about paying attention - attention to the details that can transform darkness into light.
But none of this transformation occurs without the fire of new life. It is blaze, a casting, a clarifying.
As this day of Pentecost begins, take a moment and turn your eyes toward the new day. Deep embers burn red and from them rises a phoenix (like the holy spirit) binding us together, encouraging us to celebrate our differences.
And so we are inspired to move forward, together, with a vision of a New World filled with promise and hope.
Quote: Thank you, Karl Duffy @ mindfulbalance.org