Steve – Page 42 – Unfolding Light

At the edge of the pond

At the edge of the pond you can
be forgiven for thinking you’re at the edge, not the
center of things. Demurely, a bit cool, the
ducks acknowledge you, but don’t
engage. Other birds sing distantly, or
fly overhead like songs. … But listen:
gathered here, at the center, in this nest, this
home, is everything. Tropical worms and polar
ice caps are all here, from farthest nebulae to your own
jawbone, here. There is only one thing.
Kneel in the grass. Let it all in. Expand.
Let the whole of it enter you, the night-sky-deep
mystery fill you till you become the world.
Nothing is missing. Nothing declines to attend.
Open yourself to the whole company of it. Let it
pour itself into you, the scent of the woods, the
quiet cry of far-off orphans, all of it. It
resounds in you, a chorus of a million voices, a
symphony of stars and sea grasses. Let it
tell you who you are, how you belong to everything,
undivided, present, susceptible to beauty,
vulnerable to light. Let this be your
wisdom. But don’t think it. Breathe it. Inhale and
exhale. Notice the supple arms of the beech tree, the
yellow dandelions and their bees, the glory hidden among the
zinnias. Look at your hands. The universe is there.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Listening in tongues

           “And how is it that…
          in our own languages we hear them
          speaking about God’s deeds of power?”
                           —Acts 2.8, 11

At Pentecost we’re pretty sure
we did the miraculous talking,
“speaking in tongues.”
But what if in fact the miracle was that
those people from every nation
heard in tongues?
What if they had the God-given gift
to listen deeply enough to know
the work of God when they heard it,
even in a foreign language?

We think we have so much to say.
Maybe we have something to hear.
Maybe the true Pentecostal gift
isn’t speaking at all, but listening:
listening in tongues,
letting the Spirit listen through us,
listening in new ways
for what we haven’t heard,
listening deeply enough to hear God,
even in the life of someone not like us.

What miracles emerge, when we listen deeply!

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Sprout

Grounding One,
O Divine Flourishing,

with the plow of your grace
till me, soften me, aerate me.

Uproot my prickly vines
of fear and want.

Let the seeds of you
be buried in me,

break
open

in me.
Sprout mightily,

little green fingers, so strong,
feel your way through me

toward light,
toward fruit.

Let the great flourishing
begin.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Corner

A girl in my high school that I never knew
but saw a lot used to go around every
corner in the hallway as if she’d never
been there before. She’d lean way out to the
side to look, almost on one foot,
the other stretched behind, as if to see it
for the first time, as if to check it out before
she committed to making the turn. But she
always made the turn. It wasn’t fearful, just
a pause, a moment of expectation. “Look,”
she told herself, “I’m turning a corner!” I loved
it. Whenever I saw her do it I’d walk into my
next classroom with a little bit of anticipation,
even under pretense, a little expectation that
I might be surprised. Or I might actually turn
a corner and actually do something
for the first time. And I often surprised
myself. I looked as if for the first time, and
often saw something for the first time. Or saw
somebody I’d seen a thousand times as if
for the first time. I still love her for it.

May the corner you turn next be an opening,
an adventure. Look! You’re turning a corner!
May even a thing you’ve done a thousand times
be the first time you’ve ever done it, a surprise.
And if it is truly a new thing, imagine Jesus
leaning out around the corner on one leg, looking,
and looking back at you, smiling, then disappearing
around the corner.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Where

           While he was blessing them,
           he withdrew from them
           and was carried up into heaven.
                           —Luke 24.51

So where exactly did Jesus go?
Up into which sky, beyond which clouds?
Where is the body now?

There is no where. That’s the point.
There is no where where he is
more or less than any other where.

As Jesus rose from his grave,
he rose from his body—the one
body—to all bodies, all places.

He ascended to “heaven,”
which is where God is, which is
not distant but at the heart of all things.

The body of the risen Christ
is here, surrounding you.
You are in it; it is here in you.

Yes, you want more. Something
more real. That is faith: the urge
to make love real in this world.

That hankering for something felt, that
absence that only love can fill, that
tension, that strength, so real: that is the body.

Let that body’s motion move you.
Take that urge out into a world
hungry for the touch of love.

Given or received,
wherever there is love—there!:
the Word made flesh.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

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Blinded

What if
the light of the Resurrection was so bright
it blinded Jesus
and you have to take him by the hand
and lead him into your life
and show him everything,
notice every detail for him
with the most loving attention;
and with something other
than his big, gentle closed eyes
he touches
your life, your wounds, your friends,
and blesses them,
feels your tears, your silences,
hears your heart, your hope,
becomes familiar with the little stones
beside the way, the blades of grass,
the flow of your breath
in and out?
What if he doesn’t have to see,
because you are his body?

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 1:07 — 1.5MB)

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Why don’t miracles happen?

Why don’t miracles happen any more?
Because we don’t need them.
Because we’re too smart for them.
We think we’re better than primitive people
who believed in spirits and unseen forces.
Because we have explanations now, and AI,
and there’s nothing we can’t do
so who needs miracles,
or one who performs them?
Anyway, if we really wanted miracles
how could we possibly go back now,
unlearn all we know,
unbelieve all our powers?

Our openness is too primitive,
our humility undeveloped.
We’d have to practice.
We’d have to live in wonder.
We’d have to pay attention.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 1:00 — 1.4MB)

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A prayer for a garden

God of Creation, all the earth is yours,
and all that is in it.
You have created this soil,
brought forth living things,
and nourished them with sun and rain.
Bless now this garden
as a source of joy and beauty.
Hidden in the soil
is the work of death and resurrection.
May it bear fruit in the lives of your beloved
with nourishment and beauty,
with joy and gratitude, with peace and rest.
May all creatures, great and small,
who draw near receive your blessing here.
As living things sprout and grow forth from this soil—
“the earth produces of itself, the sower knows not how”—
may your grace grow and bear fruit in us.
Bless this garden, and all who cherish it,
that it may be a sign for us
of your beautiful, miraculous, life-giving love. Amen.

A prayer for the Blessing of the Animals

Leader: God of love and beauty,
you have fashioned every creature with your hands.
All: You look upon every creature with your eyes.
You hold every creature in your heart.
So we pray for the creatures you have given us.
We give thanks for animals that give us companionship.
We give thanks for animals that help and serve.
We ask your blessing for animals we love.
We pray for good health and happy life for them.
May their presence comfort us,
their loyalty reassure us.
May the playfulness of puppies and the songs of birds
remind us always of your grace.
May all their differences of fur and feather,
great and small, remind us that you love us all.
In our care for them may we reflect your care for us.
God of all living, in all our different voices,
with barks and yips and purrs and chirps,
and with silence, too, we praise you,
we ask your blessing, and we trust your grace. Amen.

A litany for graduates

Leader: Today we honor you who are graduating,
for you are on a sacred journey.
All: Your journey is not only the learning of your mind
but the growing of your heart.
We celebrate the effort you have given to accomplish this.
And we ask God’s blessing for the journey yet to come.
May God always give you gifts of curiosity and discipline.
May God give you courage to explore new things.
May the Spirit work in you that in all you do you may serve God.
May the Spirit give you grace to do justice, to love kindly,
and to walk humbly with God.
May you know always that Christ goes with you.
We who have made many journeys give you our blessing.
By the grace of God, we surround you with our prayers.
Our spirits will go with you. For we too are pilgrims,
always learning, always by the grace of God beginning anew.
Go in peace, and serve God with joy. Amen.