Category: Reflections

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         “Were not ten made clean?
         But the other nine, where are they?
         Was none of them found to return and give praise to God
         except this foreigner?”
                  —Luke 17.17-18

Jesus’ parables can be about different people; they are also about different parts of ourselves. I am only grateful for about ten percent of the wonderful things I receive. And so often the grateful part is the foreigner: the part of me that I relegate to the shadows, the vulnerable, ashamed part that I ignore. And yet it speaks forth my gratitude for me when my ego-mind is too busy protecting its worthiness to be thankful.

Gratitude is not an emotion that comes upon us without our control. It is not dependent on what happens to us, but on our intention. Like good posture, it is a practice, an attitude that is entirely our choice in every moment. Gratitude is the ground of all wisdom, the root of all joy. When we practice gratitude it opens our hearts to the deep gifts in all of life, and God’s grace, the Holy One’s presence with us, even in the things we are not pleased with. The intention of gratitude opens us to God’s intention of generosity. There is a gift hidden in everything. To find it, be grateful. Let the one leper teach the rest of you how to give thanks.

A friend of mine told me once after a particularly lovely day she came home, sat in her easy chair and said out loud, “Thank You.” And she swears she heard a voice say out loud, “You’re welcome.”

Practice gratitude. For everything. For what you see out the window, for what you hear from your co-workers, say “Thank You.” When your kids walk in the room, when you take a breath, when your spouse tells you how to drive, when to stub your toe, say “Thank You.”

Practice gratitude and eventually you will be able to hear the universe say, “You’re welcome.”
         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

Mist, a mass of light, curtain of the temple,
shrouds the lake in unknowing.

The far shore has withdrawn into its chambers.
The holy water closes its eyes.

The water is smooth as the mind of God.
All above is perfectly reflected below.

Tiny prayer rugs, yellow and red, rest on the surface,
stilled in deep meditation.

The little island stands alone in the mist, prayer shawl
about its shoulders, down to its knees.

Five swans process slowly, disturbing nothing,
do not need wings, do not need robes.

Once in a while the veils lifts and you see
the world never stops praying for you.

         

         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

        
Lord, spare me from the comfort
        that would sedate me,
from the certainty
        that would dull me,
from the beauty
        that would blind me to injustice,
from the peace
        that would hide the world’s grief from me,
from the security
        that would frighten me from the edge of you.

Grant me the blessing
        to be unfinished, discomforted, unknowing,
to be homesick in this world
        for the one within it,
to ache for your little ones,
        to grieve with the Beloved,
to be powerless for your grace,
        to empty myself into your heart.

Lord, spare me from my wishes,
        that I may be free for you.
Spare me from my little self,
        that I may be my divine self.
Spare me from my life, that, dying,
        I may become yours.

Amen.

______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail
write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com.

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
         By the rivers of Babylon—
                  there we sat down and there we wept
                  when we remembered Zion….         
         For there our captors asked us for songs,
                  and our tormentors asked for mirth,
                  saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” …
         How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land
         If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither! …
         O daughter Babylon, you devastator!
                  Happy shall they be who pay you back
                  what you have done to us!
         Happy shall they be who take your little ones
                  and dash them against the rock!
                           —from Psalm 137

This Psalm, a lament by exiles from Jerusalem after its destruction, can be one of the most wrenching to live with. It takes us deep into the grief and rage of the abused and exploited, the refugee, the prisoner. It won’t let us off the hook. It forbids us ever to say to the suffering, “There, there.” It invites us to sit with them by the river of their sorrow— to sit for a long time with them, and bear their anguish.

And then it turns dark, into that murderous vengefulness that makes us so uncomfortable—it does me, anyway. How do we keep up with it, this mood swing from poignant sorrow to child-killing rage? When we are taught to love our enemies, how do we deal with all those enemies in the Psalms that we despise and want to destroy? Four things come to mind.

1. My real enemies are not other people; they are my self-centeredness, my fear, all those desires and attachments that separate me from the “Jerusalem” of true life. Those enemies and their offspring I really do want to destroy. I read this Psalm as an expression of my deep sadness, longing for the depth of life I have abandoned, and a prayer for the transformation of my consciousness, a change in my heart.

2. I read this prayer as a confession: sometimes I am that angry. And in my religious heritage we have been that murderous. I pray this psalm as a confession of the violence in my heart and in my community.

3. This is not a comfortable, white, middle class person’s prayer. It is the cry of the oppressed. I have no business dialing down their rage, “demanding of them mirth.” I read this Psalm as a way to be in solidarity with those who are in this deep anguish, who feel exactly this anger, without sugar-coating it.

4. This Psalm is also a cry for justice, which is not revenge but it is change. There is such a thing as the wrath of God. God cries out that oppressors be stopped, that violence end. The cry here is not literally to kill babies, but to utterly destroy the offspring of greed and exploitation, to end the line of succession of violence and abuse, to chop off the family tree of hate and fear and selfishness. The change is built on love of the oppressors— but God’s merciful justice requires that some things get destroyed. As Revelation 11.18 says, “Your wrath has come, and the time… for destroying those who destroy the earth.”

Look up Psalm 137 and read the whole thing. Confront your sorrow and your inner enemies. Confess your violence. Sit with those who are in anguish. And cry out with them for the end to oppression, the destruction of unjust systems, and the coming of God’s reign of mercy and justice that will not merely make this world better, but replace it.
                  
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         

         God called us to holy lives,
                  not because of anything we have done
                  but according to God’s own purpose and grace.
                           —2 Timothy 1.9
         
         We are merely slaves;
                  we have done only what we ought to have done.
                           —Luke 17.10

One piano key
has no song
but occasional notes
without melody or pattern.
It can’t understand the piano,
doesn’t know the music,
surely senses nothing
of an audience.
But when moved,
ignorant of all
but the maestro’s touch,
it strikes its strings
exactly as it is moved to.
And not by its merit
as a single key
nor its grasp of the whole,
but by the presence
of the virtuoso
and the grace of the music
of which you know nothing
a great beauty is created
that moves the Listener.

For the sake of that song
let God move through you
without knowing more.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

I am reminded of your sincere faith:
          rekindle the gift of God that is within you.
Hold to the standard of sound teaching
          that you have heard from me,
          in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.
Guard the good treasure entrusted to you,
          with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.
                  —2 Timothy 1. 5, 6, 13-14

Your faith is not a strength or accomplishment,
a possession or a quality of yours at all;
it is a gift from God.
In your surrender to the love of the Beloved,
whose heart beats in yours,
you are given God’s own love,
for God and for the world.
Your faith is divine love alive in you.
Be thankful. Guard this treasure.
You don’t need to protect it;
it can face the worst of the world.
Don’t hoard it, or hide it.
But attend to it, care for it.
Don’t abuse it or forget it
or take it for granted.
Water the plant and give it light.
Let it live in you, strong and clear.
Even when your faith is a mystery,
all darkness and struggle,
it is still a gift:
God’s love in you, for your sake,
for the sake of the world.
Let the Loving One, who is in you,
help you guard this treasure
with humble joy and gratitude,
and give it away all the time.
         
         

Deep Blessings
Pastor Steve
______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail
write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com.

         
         
         When you have done all that you were ordered to do, say,
         “We are merely slaves;
         we have done only what we ought to have done!”
                  — Luke 17.10

Lord,
I am your servant, not the master,
but not in chains: in love.
In perfect freedom I obey;
as your lover I submit to you.
O Love at the Heart of All Things,
I am yours.
This day is yours, not mine.
My life, and all my gifts,
my skills and passions,
are for your sake, not mine.
My task today is to be and to do
according to your will.
I pray that your energy
may arise in me clearly,
that I may trust your desire for me,
discern your unfolding in me,
and live in harmony with your grace.
You are the nerve; I am the muscle.
You are the heart; I am the hand.
May all that I do today be for you sake,
according to your delight;
and may I, in humbly serving others,
in obedience to your love,
draw nearer to you.
Amen.

         
         

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
                  
Too long confined in words,
I walk into the ocean
of your silence, release myself
into its spaciousness,
beside myself, become that vast,
become the sea.

It holds me, bears me
safely over rocks
of notions and of knowing,
safely, tenderly carries me
above those shoals
of meaning, even, and believing:

what even you can’t say,
this love too great to fit,
too great to even feel.

I can’t behold the ocean,
the whole sphere of it—
only water on my skin,
wind on my face, the body
of this silence that enfolds me.

Just float.
Just give myself,
and float.

         
         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Excerpts from the Police Log in the Acton, MA Beacon, Thurs. Sept. 26, 2013.

        Sunday 9:09 a.m. Police responded to a report of five or six cows wandering in a yard on Schoolhouse Lane. Animal control contacted.
        Monday 2.14 p.m. Police responded to a harassment complaint on Arlington Street.
        3:15 p.m. Police responded to Hosmer Street regarding a vehicle shipped from Oklahoma that never arrived.
        3:50 p.m. Police spoke to a resident of Cherokee Road regarding questions about stolen identity.
        10.27 p.m. Police responded to Elm Street for a report of suspicious activity at the Douglas School. It was the custodian.
        Tuesday 12:27 a.m. Police and fire responded to a medical emergency on Swanson Road. Patient was transported to Emerson Hospital.
        1:35 p.m. A caller on Spencer Road reported the tenant above her is dropping barbells on the floor to harass her. No noise heard while police were on scene. Advised caller of her rights.
        8:50 p.m. A caller on Great Road reported a male party knocking on his door. Gone when arrived.
        9:31 p.m. A caller on River Street thought someone was in his house on his return, but then determined it was one of his kids. Police confirmed it was accidental.

This is the stuff of God.
God is off somewhere important doing miracles,
managing the cosmos, parting the Red Sea,
bearing the saints across the river of death,
presiding over judgments.
But God is also here: in our little disputes,
our mishaps and mysteries, our various
unremarkable hopes and fears and needs.
God is in the dirty plate, the empty mailbox,
the awkward conversation.
All of it is blessed, all of it.
All of it is accompanied, all of it is holy.

        Wednesday 8:48 p.m. Police responded to an operator driving erratically on Minot Avenue. Police reported no impairment. Driver not familiar with roads.

         
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

You live inside the Holy One. You are her shadow of light.
Go ahead and tell her you love her:
“My home, my shelter, my skin.”

The Beloved will guide you safely around life’s traps,
shield you from what rots you,
cover you with her wings,
wrap you in muscled, gentle arms,
where you are safe and loved.

Those things you worry about at night:
let them go.
Those days you feel shot like an arrow,
stop. You are enough.
God defends you from what sickens you,
keeps you safe from what destroys.

People around you may get anxious—
the whole world may get frantic—
but don’t buy into their fear.
Look and see: evil eats people
from the inside out.

God’s love is your house.
Your safe shelter is Mercy.
It will save you from all evil:
no disaster can get in where you live.

God’s mercy, hidden in this world,
will guard you and guide you.
Unseen hands will bear you along,
catch you when you fall.

You will face powers and dominions unafraid.
You will confront corporations and armies
and be victorious.

“In our love,” God says,
“you are already safely home.
Because we know each other
I will never lose you.

“Call to me, and I answer.
In your troubles I am with you.
Your heart will survive
and I will honor you.
I give you the gift of life as deep as mine,
and love that keeps you whole forever.”

______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail
write to me at unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com.