The lite touch of God’s glory in the world is like the unexpected arrival of rain. Suddenly, leaves are dipping involuntarily in asymmetrical acknowledgement of its presence – a persistent shower giving lustre to the world & heightening awareness.
The Psalmist says that, “day after day pours forth speech and night after night declares knowledge… of the glory of God - yet there is no speech nor are there words…” While the lite touch of God’s glory is ever present, the sense of its arrival is always subtle. It builds in degrees, inhabiting the peripheral of vision or the graduated silences out on the edges of constant noise.
That our vision and hearing are dim to its arrival is witness to our routines of busyness and distraction.
That the activity of God’s glory in the world shapes our daily situation is beyond question. Glory lends intention to secret acts of mercy and kindness. Glory intensifies hope and endurance when the real is all too abrasive & unfriendly, Glory makes forgiveness the unthinkable possibility that dances in the midst of a hurting relationship At its most compelling the Glory of God ignites a passion for justice that burns & is vigilant, restless & creative.
When the dipping dance of the leaves ceases, the enduring effect of rained out rain is that cleansing wetness that soaks into every crack & crevice – absorbed into pores of everything it touches.
Drips hanging like jewels are the multitude of mundane moments touched by the finger of God.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Name Calling II
The calling of a name identifies a particular other. It focuses attention & begins conversation. The calling of a name initiates movement in a particular direction.
To be immersed in the focused speaking of a name, a discordant cacophony of a multitude speaking as a community. To be immersed is to stand and let a unique bounded moment unfold around you.
The other evening was the first night of Idul Fitri – an all night of muslim prayer marking the end of the fasting month.
I was standing on a roof - in the anonymity of the night. Here & there the mere suggestion of shapes & surfaces marked my particular place in the world but my hearing told me otherwise. I was immersed in a uniquely bounded moment of a tremendous speech act, a multitudinous calling of the name of the One. From the front, now behind, to the side, the other side… an unbroken multi-vocal charge of different utterances converging, rising to crescendo then falling again… a creative gaggle of voices congregating around the speaking of the name of the One.
Yet there is a contrast, another speech act. It is the unending calling forth of my name by the One. It is a creative utterance that is uniquely unbounded - a self-involving moment. It calls me out from the anonymity of the night & into a world of light and encounter with particular others. It calls me to become familiar with the cadences of particular voices, engaging in a particular situation, immersed in particular stories.
Like the smoke of burning leaves that is a barb to my eyes or the pungent sickly smell of rotting garbage that taunts my nostrils. To be immersed in the speech act with particular others begins in speaking words with little meaning, the sounding of which is harsh and unfamiliar. To remain in the creative gaggle of continuing conversation in context after different context etches out a new space of meaning shared. I am shaped & held by the words and the stories of particular others. The stretch of it building & intensifying my presence in the world & my relation to the One.
To be immersed in the focused speaking of a name, a discordant cacophony of a multitude speaking as a community. To be immersed is to stand and let a unique bounded moment unfold around you.
The other evening was the first night of Idul Fitri – an all night of muslim prayer marking the end of the fasting month.
I was standing on a roof - in the anonymity of the night. Here & there the mere suggestion of shapes & surfaces marked my particular place in the world but my hearing told me otherwise. I was immersed in a uniquely bounded moment of a tremendous speech act, a multitudinous calling of the name of the One. From the front, now behind, to the side, the other side… an unbroken multi-vocal charge of different utterances converging, rising to crescendo then falling again… a creative gaggle of voices congregating around the speaking of the name of the One.
Yet there is a contrast, another speech act. It is the unending calling forth of my name by the One. It is a creative utterance that is uniquely unbounded - a self-involving moment. It calls me out from the anonymity of the night & into a world of light and encounter with particular others. It calls me to become familiar with the cadences of particular voices, engaging in a particular situation, immersed in particular stories.
Like the smoke of burning leaves that is a barb to my eyes or the pungent sickly smell of rotting garbage that taunts my nostrils. To be immersed in the speech act with particular others begins in speaking words with little meaning, the sounding of which is harsh and unfamiliar. To remain in the creative gaggle of continuing conversation in context after different context etches out a new space of meaning shared. I am shaped & held by the words and the stories of particular others. The stretch of it building & intensifying my presence in the world & my relation to the One.
Name Calling I
To get the voices of the many to converge around the speaking of the name of the One you would expect a unity - a singularity of purpose, a focus around a multi-vocal locus of praise. Yet the sound of it is certainly not Bach, not even within coo wee of a triumphant Hallelujah chorus. When I stand on my roof & hear the voices of the many from the mosques in every direction, the sound of it is diverse & discordant, rich in texture, uneven in rhythm… even time displacing.
It is like an unbounded moment when all that have ever spoken the name of the One are concentrated & focused into a particular now. It holds me in silence & wonder out on the edge of the realm of sameness and the unbounded world of the Holy Other.
It is like an unbounded moment when all that have ever spoken the name of the One are concentrated & focused into a particular now. It holds me in silence & wonder out on the edge of the realm of sameness and the unbounded world of the Holy Other.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Bau WoW Sunday...
It’s a Sunday ! In my psyche it is the one day of the week, God marked with the rhythm of a holy space… to sense again the lite touch of His glory on the familiar.
Right now I feel like I am sitting on the edge of the world. [ I am like a commuter waiting in in-between moments punctuating the malaise of a day. ] I am on an edge looking outwards at a wet and heady world, filled with clouds… hanging. [ Pregnant and grey. ] A small wind blows it’s warm moist air. Like a breath exhaled from a person just right there. To my right small rain is falling on the gently lapping waters – a subtle movement of irregular rhythm – undeniably soothing. Over further heavy clouds let go their heaviness – a subtle overlay of greyness making the division of land & sky & water diffuse. The release of the rain and the small wind blows freer, sweeter. Off to the left now small, determined rain is puncturing the surface of the water. A few intense moments then the tension eases.
Another change of ticks and the mantle of wetness passes, the small wind ceases. A small lite, uneven rain is now falling like the evocative touch of a caressing lover – a subtle dynamic irregular movement. [ The clouds are easier & pregnant no longer. ]
I sense purpose, discontinuous connection and I am still waiting – sitting out on the edge of the world.
Then as if to underline the fragile thread... [ it is raining again, determined and purposeful & everything becomes stationary, immersed and flattened ]… a single surface upon which wetness strikes and bounces and covers without exemption.
I am sitting on the edge of the world and the rain becomes the wetness that connects the lite touch of God’s Glory on the balmy moments of a Bau Wow Sunday !
Right now I feel like I am sitting on the edge of the world. [ I am like a commuter waiting in in-between moments punctuating the malaise of a day. ] I am on an edge looking outwards at a wet and heady world, filled with clouds… hanging. [ Pregnant and grey. ] A small wind blows it’s warm moist air. Like a breath exhaled from a person just right there. To my right small rain is falling on the gently lapping waters – a subtle movement of irregular rhythm – undeniably soothing. Over further heavy clouds let go their heaviness – a subtle overlay of greyness making the division of land & sky & water diffuse. The release of the rain and the small wind blows freer, sweeter. Off to the left now small, determined rain is puncturing the surface of the water. A few intense moments then the tension eases.
Another change of ticks and the mantle of wetness passes, the small wind ceases. A small lite, uneven rain is now falling like the evocative touch of a caressing lover – a subtle dynamic irregular movement. [ The clouds are easier & pregnant no longer. ]
I sense purpose, discontinuous connection and I am still waiting – sitting out on the edge of the world.
Then as if to underline the fragile thread... [ it is raining again, determined and purposeful & everything becomes stationary, immersed and flattened ]… a single surface upon which wetness strikes and bounces and covers without exemption.
I am sitting on the edge of the world and the rain becomes the wetness that connects the lite touch of God’s Glory on the balmy moments of a Bau Wow Sunday !
Friday, June 16, 2006
That 'M' Word...
Back in August, 2005 – I jotted down my up to the moment thoughts about that ‘M’ word !
I said it, “is an orientation away from the centre out to the edges... It is decentered – horizontal – seeping into the cracks and crevices of a particular place. It is holiness dwelling in close proximity to the mundane. The ‘M’ word is a movement outwards & downwards into places of injustice & disempowerment... an orientation outwards, towards otherness & difference where we welcome otherness and embrace difference”.
“It is a place of creative space, of possibility where the Spirit of God is most present... a safe place of restoration, of healing & of wholeness... where the possibility of the exceptional is expected”.
“The orientation of the ‘M’ word is about moving away from centers of self-interest, of comfort & self-satisfaction... a deliberate move against the entropy of selfish desire and of greed”. [Quote: “But why should the idea be repellent that humanity be a stench of greediness reaching to the sky ?” - Abraham Heschel] “The ‘M’ word is a movement to places of transformation and participation where God alone is the King !”
I wrote those words from a safe centre. Now that I am living in a more uncomfortable place... I want to know if they these words are true !?!
I said it, “is an orientation away from the centre out to the edges... It is decentered – horizontal – seeping into the cracks and crevices of a particular place. It is holiness dwelling in close proximity to the mundane. The ‘M’ word is a movement outwards & downwards into places of injustice & disempowerment... an orientation outwards, towards otherness & difference where we welcome otherness and embrace difference”.
“It is a place of creative space, of possibility where the Spirit of God is most present... a safe place of restoration, of healing & of wholeness... where the possibility of the exceptional is expected”.
“The orientation of the ‘M’ word is about moving away from centers of self-interest, of comfort & self-satisfaction... a deliberate move against the entropy of selfish desire and of greed”. [Quote: “But why should the idea be repellent that humanity be a stench of greediness reaching to the sky ?” - Abraham Heschel] “The ‘M’ word is a movement to places of transformation and participation where God alone is the King !”
I wrote those words from a safe centre. Now that I am living in a more uncomfortable place... I want to know if they these words are true !?!
Elastic Jesus Revisited...
"Just one comment on 'Elastic Jesus'. One thing that struck me about
your blog is the that whilst he is elastic I couldn't help but take the
alternate view that he is in many ways concurrently ROCK SOLID and with
absolute inflexibility.... his love of the father, his compassionate
spirit, his resolute focus on justice, his desire to spend time with
his 'crew' investing in them. How is it that he can maintain elasticity
yet be inflexible?"
CW
I have been thinking about life out on the margins because I have been living in one these past months. I have been particularly interested recently in what lies beyond the boundary of the margin – chaos. It struck me that Jesus walking on the water in the storm was Jesus at ease in a field of chaos. Jesus takes his disciples into that place. There Jesus is neither terrified or diminished. We usually talk about the Jesus who calms the storm – what about the Jesus who creates the storm ?
When Jesus is walking out on the water and the disciples’ see him they think he is ‘a ghost’. A guy I have been reading Jacques Derrida - says there is something interesting about ghosts – he calls them ‘an undecidable’. The figure of the ghost seems to be neither present or absent or it is both present & absent at the same time. There is a tension – a dissonance in that place that breaks open the meaning of things.
Life has many such tensions. The story of Jesus – the ghost - walking on the water is one. Our faith is based on the rock-solid idea that Jesus is the God-man ! Think about that tension – the church fathers argued about how that was possible for nearly 4 centuries. As Derrida says there is an uneasy tension in those kinds of paradoxes and for me that isn’t rock solid – that is dynamic & fluid – expanding and intensifying then contracting again – forming and un-forming – like Galadriel when she is offered the Ring by Froddo in the ‘Fellowship of the Ring’.
When I think about Jesus as the Rock I think about perspective. For example, from a distance Woolworths appears rock solid – institutional, a solid pillar of free market retailing. Yet I wonder if the daily experience of Woolworths up close is more asymmetrical & dynamic – a lot less certain. Jesus called Peter ‘the Rock’ and he was all over the place.
When the disciples respond in terror to Jesus walking on water and in fear to the storm – Jesus’ movement is toward them and His words restore peace - easing their discomfort. Jesus is rock solid & consistent in his expression of the pathos of God – God’s compassion & care ! Yet peace on the waters comes at the expense of stepping away from the experience of Jesus in his Glory !
I have been reading a book by GK Chesterton - ‘Orthodoxy’. He says, “… the more I considered Christianity, the more I found that while it established a rule and order, the chief aim of that order was to give room for good things to run wild.” Give me a Jesus who is rock solid but also give me an Elastic Jesus who expands and intensifies to become a volcano in full vent !
your blog is the that whilst he is elastic I couldn't help but take the
alternate view that he is in many ways concurrently ROCK SOLID and with
absolute inflexibility.... his love of the father, his compassionate
spirit, his resolute focus on justice, his desire to spend time with
his 'crew' investing in them. How is it that he can maintain elasticity
yet be inflexible?"
CW
I have been thinking about life out on the margins because I have been living in one these past months. I have been particularly interested recently in what lies beyond the boundary of the margin – chaos. It struck me that Jesus walking on the water in the storm was Jesus at ease in a field of chaos. Jesus takes his disciples into that place. There Jesus is neither terrified or diminished. We usually talk about the Jesus who calms the storm – what about the Jesus who creates the storm ?
When Jesus is walking out on the water and the disciples’ see him they think he is ‘a ghost’. A guy I have been reading Jacques Derrida - says there is something interesting about ghosts – he calls them ‘an undecidable’. The figure of the ghost seems to be neither present or absent or it is both present & absent at the same time. There is a tension – a dissonance in that place that breaks open the meaning of things.
Life has many such tensions. The story of Jesus – the ghost - walking on the water is one. Our faith is based on the rock-solid idea that Jesus is the God-man ! Think about that tension – the church fathers argued about how that was possible for nearly 4 centuries. As Derrida says there is an uneasy tension in those kinds of paradoxes and for me that isn’t rock solid – that is dynamic & fluid – expanding and intensifying then contracting again – forming and un-forming – like Galadriel when she is offered the Ring by Froddo in the ‘Fellowship of the Ring’.
When I think about Jesus as the Rock I think about perspective. For example, from a distance Woolworths appears rock solid – institutional, a solid pillar of free market retailing. Yet I wonder if the daily experience of Woolworths up close is more asymmetrical & dynamic – a lot less certain. Jesus called Peter ‘the Rock’ and he was all over the place.
When the disciples respond in terror to Jesus walking on water and in fear to the storm – Jesus’ movement is toward them and His words restore peace - easing their discomfort. Jesus is rock solid & consistent in his expression of the pathos of God – God’s compassion & care ! Yet peace on the waters comes at the expense of stepping away from the experience of Jesus in his Glory !
I have been reading a book by GK Chesterton - ‘Orthodoxy’. He says, “… the more I considered Christianity, the more I found that while it established a rule and order, the chief aim of that order was to give room for good things to run wild.” Give me a Jesus who is rock solid but also give me an Elastic Jesus who expands and intensifies to become a volcano in full vent !
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