You’re already networked

Job’s Pond this morning appears beyond my window providing just about all that is needed for life. All the fundamentals at least. There is light in abundance. There is water in the same measure. There is vegetation, and around the shores of the pond there are people living life.

Praying this morning, as the breeze shifted to every which way, at intervals the light would reveal a single strand of web attached to the top of one of the Adirondack chairs on the deck and heading upward until it disappeared above. No doubt it is the work of one of our eight-legged friends, inveterate networkers as they are. But the fact that it is always there, though not always discernable, got me to thinking.

This is the way it is with us. All of us. In God, we are firmly connected to one another, but by supple connections that may look frail but that will endure. For me it is vital to remember this in our present era. So obvious are those things that divide us, and so apparently carrying the day are they, that we can seem and feel very distant from one another.

But often unseen, prior to any division and lasting beyond them, we are bonded to one another by links that will not fail; links that can and will bend with the winds of any moment and still remain. I take joy in this God-provided truth on this beautiful morning. It reminds me that I know good, beautiful, faithful men and women who are supporters of President Trump. I struggle with that daily, and they with me on my political principles, and yet we still belong to one another. We still are one family when all is said and done. (And all is not yet said and done).

Perhaps even more fundamental (he wrote, tongue now firmly in cheek), I am connected even to amazing people who for reasons that I will never comprehend are loyal fans of that baseball team that practices its dark arts in the heart of the Bronx. All the while a team of light and achievement and possibiltiy beckons to them from just to the northeast! But come what may (even in the series about to begin tonight) I can and I do love these people, know them as friends, and am connected to them by bonds as deep and lasting as the human heart.

The single strand that networks the deck chair to unseen realities above is thin, but strong and lasting. And so are the bonds that, underneath it all, make us one. Celebrate that unity, even in the midst of the stresses of the present time.

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One Prayer

Thy will be done.

When I am content, thy will be done.

When I am overwhelmed, thy will be done.

When I stand alone, thy will be done.

When I am understood, thy will be done.

When I am loved, thy will be done.

When I am called to love, thy will be done.

In moments of peace, thy will be done.

In days of violence, thy will be done.

At birth, thy will be done.

At death, thy will be done.

When the light is threatened by darkness, and when the darkness is moved by light, thy will be done.

In the exuberance of growth, and in the weakness of loss, thy will be done.

Now, then, and in the eternal, thy will be done.

When I am confident, thy will be done.

When I am undone, thy will be done.

In the beginning, along the way, at every turn, when the way is lost, when grace sings in notes unwritten and unwritable, thy will be done.

One prayer, loving Center of all.

One prayer.

Thy will be done.

Light and Air

cropped-img_0806.jpgThere is a man I know

Though not as well

As people think. And so

It was an unexpected moment

in the middle of an ordinary day,

when he came and said,

“I have many great friends.

I have so much to be grateful for.

I just have so much.

But I am…”

I looked up as he paused

His face was filled with an emotion hard to place, and then he finished,

“… lonely.

You could have driven

An 18 wheeler packed with regret

Between the beginning and the conclusion of that sentence.

And tears rolled down his face and onto the desk

I saw, I felt, though I did not know what to say.

How rarely these things deep inside are released

Into light and air.

Resurrection Week

What was it like for you

In that first week following your dying and rising?

You were alive – not again –

But more alive than any human being had ever been.

Does the world look different, feel different, smell different?

You are risen, but still interacting in the same old places

With the same often confused and frightened folks who

Nonetheless love you.

What was it like?

Your talks with your Abba; they couldn’t have been

More frequent, you were always in touch;

But were they stereo over mono now?

Digital over analog? Millions of colors bright?

What did you think about this week?

The wounds are still visible in your body.

Do your muscles, your bones, still ache

With the memory of last Friday? Do your

Nerves still cry out in old agony, or

Is all that transfigured into a more-than-physical

Shout of joy? (A shout that has only a beginning,

And no end).

You went through all this for ordinary people.

Shouldn’t it change us too? Even now?

Help us, Jesus, to lean into your heart and hear

The beat; to take your hand, wound and all;

To delight both in your appearing and your vanishing

For all of it is somehow revelation of how it is for you

This week, this eternal week

In which we join you, even if we know not how.

~ John McGinty

April 4, 2018

The Incredulity of Thomas,

by Caravaggio, 1602