Blessed be God who animates our lives and offers new beginnings which incorporate the endings.  It would be easy to preach the hymn When in our Music God is Glorified, to which we processed and entered this sacred space and sit down. To preach the first and lastness of it all. the beauty and grace and reverence reflected in this setting as we seek God in our music. For “in our music we have found a new dimension in the world of sound as worship moved us to a more profound” Indeed we search for a deeper understanding when struck by mysterious one-liners like the first shall be last and the last shall be first. Moreover this search becomes deeply personal when we remember that this hymn which calls us to search for God’s revelation becomes deeply personal and significant when we remember that the hymn which opens our worship today is the very hymn which closed our time with the cantatas last season. a very intentional first and lastness which signals a rhythm and cycle of spiritual enr

  I drove back to Plymouth Saturday evening not knowing what to expect from hurricane reports (my GPS told me to watch out hurricane ahead!!!). I was pretty certain the worst was over but nervous nevertheless. As I got close to home i noticed the sky was  lit  up in soft tones of peach and blue, pinks, salmons, and patches of brightness peeking through dark clouds. The once thick bank of storm was thinning and reflecting and refracting a blossoming sunset. The picture above does not do it justice but it does help me reflect on the beauty which can emerge from threatening circumstances.  There really are not many words beyond noting this wondrous moment. Even stopping to take a picture broke the spell. So i will spend some time “paying attention” as the poet Mary Oliver suggests, not analyzing, just being grateful, letting this fill my soul and penetrate the cracks in my heart with splendor.  As Rabbi Heschel notes: I asked for wonder; at times like this wonder floods the senses and one

  this morning i sit on the precipice (or in the pit) of 70! it feels frightening and beautiful! and so I am contemplating thresholds and time, space and potential. i am also vitally aware that i do so on 9/11 the day when the particularity of my circumstances pale in the memory of a tragedy of such vast proportions.   perhaps it is my age and i hope it is accumulated wisdom which allows this day not so much to overwhelm and sadden as to pry open and invite contemplation of a timeless oneness and interconnectivity. other than the precipice/pit part at the opening, which i will soon address, i am aware of a consummate pull toward non-duality as only both/and make sense any more; only such an approach includes and assembles. for dualistic parsing has not served me well… i am most grateful for the emergence of an imagination which allows the celebration and the grief to coexist… what does 70 have to say about imagination? for me, imagination is the stuff which weaves the dualistic aspects

  Blessed be God who animates our lives and calls us to be, simply be, the beloved community. AMEN In the fascinating book Tattoos of the Heart, Father Gregory Boyle, the founder of Homeboy industries, tells story after story of the rehabilitation of gang members in LA and the attempts to change their lives and circumstances. While I have read this book at least three times, I found myself this summer listening to Father Greg, whom the homies affectionately call G, read his book aloud and it took me to a different place, a deeper, more real and poignant place, a place of reconciliation. One of the stories which comes to mind as I ponder the lectionary into which love of neighbor and conflict resolution are woven, is that of Miguel coming into G’s office on a Monday after Christmas to chat. G asks what he did for the holiday? I cooked a turkey What else did you have? just that a turkey! How did you prepare it? Ghetto Style he said It was “proper” He continued to talk about inviting 6 ot

  Preaching on the burning bush this past Sunday and being immersed in notions of Radiance and Eternal Grace, I came across a previous writing and found myself creating supplements. This past summer has been a time of astonishment, brilliance and unexpected grace. Sunrises, sunsets, grandchildren laughter, sacramental tears, silences filled with wonder...All overlaid on this thing called a life. Astonishment not far from appreciation is so enough! Astonishment may be becoming a practice... I  find that during these crazy times, which seem to get crazier each day even if dotted with glimmers of hope and calm, I crave silence and simplicity. Perhaps it is in order to deal with less or perhaps it is to deal with more, albeit differently. I am reminded of Mary Oliver’s prescription: Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. What would it be like, feel like, to live each day with this mantra. I believe that it is a reiteration of something like Ignatian ex

  Blessed be God who animates our lives and irradiates them with the brilliance of holiness. AMEN Today the brilliance of the burning bush intersects with the call to take up our cross. Light meets darkness. This causes me to think of a poem entitled In Crosslight Now which may, albeit unintentionally, express this scriptural non duality: In Crosslight Now In crosslight now all faces of my friends. Every minute still so full, so precious, A furious intensity of knowing it ends. That everything happened just as it has, A variation expanding the glory of a theme; That I bear the mystery of my mistress jazz. To fill with gratitude, even to soar. That one swallow that shall not fall. A caring less which means my caring more. Each small gesture, every utterance, The glances I hoard. Some love is mine, And always mine. A peace. A radiance I’ve wanted to word but can’t. My part My own variation shaping this history Of a theme as though one narrow heart Contains the fractured voices of humanit