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Praise
Praise the Lord! Praise God, sun and moon; praise God, all you shining stars! Praise God from the earth, you sea monsters and creatures of the depths, you fire and hail, snow and frost!
(Psalm 148:1-2 & 7-8, NRSV adapted)
What makes the T-Rex dinosaur a scientific fact and the Loch Ness monster an ancient myth?
It’s a rhetorical question, mainly. To a large extent, I believe the distinction doesn’t matter. It’s certainly not worth fighting over. It doesn’t make much difference in the daily lives of millions of people.
But the question of science vs. myth points my spirit toward something important: faith needs fiction, perhaps far more than it needs facts.
By which I mean: faith needs imagination. Wild and wondering and expansive imagination. Faith needs the unimaginable and the improbable. Faith needs awe. It needs questions that cannot be answered; it needs stories that reach beyond the limits of knowledge.
While faith might long to claim certainty, it does its best work when it claims surrender. When it gives in to hope. When it opts for unearned trust. When it lives in dreams and aspirations beyond what can be proven. When it tells stories.
Madeleine L’Engle wrote in Glimpses of Grace: “Myth is the closest approximation to truth available to the finite human being.”
Somewhere in the chasms of the oceans, there are sea monsters praising God. The Bible tells us so, although we may never know whether the psalmist was writing about a cousin of Loch Ness, a descendent of T-Rex, or a creature of the psalmist’s own imagination. The provability of the monster isn’t the point.
The point is creation’s praise for God, which is beyond imagining. In fact, creation’s praise of God is so vast and wild that it can only be told in fiction.
Prayer: Praise to you, O God, for the praises too mystical and magical for me to perceive!
cross-posted with the Daily Devotional (ucc.org)
Bad News
The spirit of the Holy One is upon me, because the One has anointed me and sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of divine favor, and the day of God’s vengeance.
(Isaiah 61:1-2, NRSV adapted)
On that holy day when the prisoners are set free, a whole lot of people will be out of a job.
Also, a whole lot of public services will be halted. Some wildfires will rage without resistance. Some streams and parks and highways will not be cleaned of litter. Some sandbags will be unfilled and unavailable for the next hurricane. All un- and under-paid tasks currently assigned to the incarcerated in our prison system.
When Isaiah’s vision is realized, what some experience as a year of God’s favor will be experienced by others as an endless day of God’s vengeance:
The oppressor will no longer be propped up by power over the discounted. The captor will lose their chains of control over the imprisoned. The mercenary will no longer be insulated by selfishness against the outcries of the brokenhearted.
That holy day of divine release will make many people very uncomfortable. Probably you, too. Probably me, too. Because even if we don’t consider ourselves to be capital “o” Oppressors, even if we have been on the heartbroken side more often than the heartbreaker side, even if we agree that the prison system is unjust, we still live and breathe and carve out comfort zones within systems of oppression.
We might not recognize the day of God’s good news. We might even, heaven forbid, lament the day as bad news in rejection of our comfort zones being transgressed.
Let the good news come mightily nonetheless.
Prayer: Teach my comfortable heart to love others’ good news, to break for others’ pain, to cry with joy at others’ release—even as much as I would do for my own.
cross-posted with the Daily Devotional (ucc.org)
Bargaining
You have said to me, "Come," but you have left me to wander in search of your desired "where." You have named me, "Blessed," but you have been unrelenting with every trial on my life. You have said to me, "Be still and know," but you have covered the eyes of my heart...
At the Altar
deep breath roll your stiff neck: right, slowly left, slowly right, slowly left, slowly deep breath listen: you are god's testimony, a sign of god's repentance deep breath pause from your race-of-a-journey: curl your toes, slowly flex your toes, slowly turn your face...
Thunder and Lightning
Spare us, Most Holy One, from the rolling thunder of your voice as it quakes our weary souls and sends us scurrying for lesser comforts. Let our comforts not be secondary gods, false idols, exploitation or cruelty or jealousy or lies. Spare us, Most Holy One, from the...
Dear God: Do Better
During the day when I’m in trouble I look for my Lord. At night my hands are still outstretched and don’t grow numb; my whole being refuses to be comforted. I remember God and I moan. I complain, and my spirit grows tired. - Psalm 77:2-3 (CEB) There are houseplants at...
New Songs
Praise the Lord! Sing to the Lord a new song, God’s praise in the assembly of the faithful. - Psalm 149:1 (NRSV) I used to sing. Not shower singing or holler-in-the-car singing or hum-to-myself singing, all of which I still do. But once upon a time, I sang in trained,...
Here I Am
Here I am: lost in the wilderness, chasing sheep and rabbit holes, out of touch with my own spirit and being, but here I am -- wherever "here" is. Here I am: unsettled and uncertain, overwhelmed by grief and setback, desperate for meaning from burning bushes, but here...
Ready for a Miracle
Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” - Exodus 3:3 (NRSV) If summer is your favorite season of the year, you might want to cover your ears while I say this: Hints of autumn are beginning to appear....
One of Another
Blessed are you, one of another, and most blessed is the other with whom you are one. Blessed is the rock and holy is the river, and beautiful are the shapes & spaces they cannot make without the other. Blessed is the breath and holy is the heart, and precious are...
Praise
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O God, is the smoke that clouds the air with the prayers of the wayfarers and the downtrodden, with the songs of grief and hope, protest and sacrifice. Sweet, sweet, sweet, O God, is the oil that blesses the heads of the ancestors and pours down...
