The Baptism of the Beloved

Jesus came down to the water, down
to where we were, his feet pierced
by the sharp stones of our hearts,
his heart pierced by our cries.

Jesus went down into the water,
immersed in this mystery we are immersed in,
down, into bottoms, into dreams,
John’s hand on his shoulder the whole time.

There he swam like a fish deep
through the springs of your life,
through the vaulted sky of water,
through the Flood, the blood-thick water.

Spring at the bottom of a well.
Underside of a boat in a storm.
A jug of wine-red water, turning. Water
so dense with God you could walk on it.

You could see him moving like a sound
down there, like a current,
like an angel or a shark, like the spirit
brooding over the waters.

He troubled the waters.
Walked through the waters.
Drowned in the waters,
until it flowed with his blood.

Buried at sea, he wrestled
with frenzied swine, with Leviathan,
and Jonah’s whale, and all manner
of monsters that haunt your murk.

Was swallowed by them all,
and in their darkest innards
they were powerless to avoid
digesting him body and soul.

Three days under.
Silence.
The cry of a bird.
John breathed deep.

In a moment the water gave him up
and when he rose, fresh like a baby,
tears flowed down our cheeks
like the Jordan river.

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

Rogue star

           Ahead of them went the star
           that they had seen at its rising,
           until it stopped over the place where the child was.

                           —Matthew 2.9

Odd star, no?
Rose in the east (all things rise in the east)
but scooted westward for the magi to follow—
then stopped.
Not easy for a star above a rotating planet.
Stopped and stooped, apparently:
low enough to hover over a single house.
A star that nobody else, including Herod,
seems to have noticed.
A rogue star, noncompliant with the laws of stardom.

Step over the ashes of the arguments of the literalists.
Take the story as it is.
The revelation of God will come to you
in ways that make no sense,
cannot be explained, exploited, or replicated—
heck, you can’t even talk about it sensibly.
But it is there, and it shines— in an unassuming baby,
a tender conversation, a healing, a feeling,
a fleeing family, somehow luminous,
a moment when the earth seems to hold you gently,
or just staring out the window and knowing something
unnameable, warm and attractive.
The star will go ahead of you, it will stop over you,
it will wink but not go out. It will go on.
Let your heart be led by the rogue star of God.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections

Magi

           Magi from the East came…
                           —Matthew 2.1


In you, deep enough to be foreign,
  someone seeks.

Has seen a light, a star, small,
  but enough to awaken.

Sojourns through this world,
  unceasing, undeterred.

Yearns athwart the powers that be,
          will not be co-opted.
Desires a desire traitorous to desire,
          triumphs in kneeling humbly.

Bears gifts, not demands,
          honor, not dominance.

Finds another road, always
          another way to get there.

Be still, long enough for your sky to clear.
          Let the wise ones gaze.

What is that star?
          Where is the heart’s compass?

You will find,
          and never finish finding.

Take courage.
          Follow.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections

Peace

Little birds in the woods,
they know how to sing,
they know how to hide.

The Prince of Peace is here.
Of course Herod has heard,
his men are sharpening their swords.

The prince of peace is a four year old child
who will need feeding and protecting,
and long waiting.

But he is here,
among the forgotten, the overlooked,
blamed and at risk, but here.

In his being is his working.
He knows how to hide,
he knows how to sing.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections

Light in the darkness

           We have seen his star.
                      —Matthew 2.2

           The light shines in the darkness,
           and the darkness can not overcome it.
                           —John 1.5


A star no despot can hide,
a sun no tyrant can cover.
A candle a hurricane can’t put out.
The gleam in a lover’s eye no sorrows can darken.
Beloved, you are in this world.
No thickness of night—and it is sometimes it is thick—
can dim the light of your presence.
No bushel of trouble can cover the candle of your grace.
No evil can bury, no cross overcome
the light of your love.
When our hearts are broken,
when the pall is lowered over us, shine.
When my eyes fail,
when my world goes dark,
shine in my heart,
you, my hope, my love, my day.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections

Word made flesh

           The Word became flesh and stayed with us;
           and we have seen the Word’s glory,
           favored and beloved as an only child,
           overflowing with grace, shining with truth.
                           —John 1.14


The Beloved walks among us.
The miracle is not on one holy night,
but in every created thing:
your Word takes on substance,
your love is embodied,
not a sentiment but an act,
not a wish but a creation,
your living child, begotten of love,
actual and real and forceful
and dwelling with us.
Every living being is holy.
This world brims with your goodness.
The Beloved walks among us.
Glory to you, O God,
and peace on earth.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections

Patience

           We know that the whole creation
                      has been groaning in labor pains until now…
           but if we hope for what we do not see,
                      we wait for it with patience.
                                 —Romans 8.22, 25

Mary, teach me, your gestational faith,
the courage of your patience,
to trust God’s slow, inexorable work.
God, give me strength to stand still
against anxiety’s shrill bustle
and the world’s flustered hurry,
and my own insistent urge.
In a world desperate to be saved
give me patience to wait,
to hope and wait,
to trust and wait.
For the goodness within,
like the holy child,
grows until the fullness of time.
God of the long run,
give me the patience of Mary.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections

Plea

Beloved, you who hold the universe
in tender arms, who cradle galaxies,
whose call in darkness birthed forth light at first,
look on us now as only love’s eye sees.

Our fear has festered, and has found fair soil
in which to grow, bear fruit and choke our love,
so we in selfishness spread hurt, and spoil
the very world we’re so enamored of.

Yet this is yours. Each wound, each sin, each slight
you occupy with that same voice to call
forth grace, to heal, to birth new light.
The angels’ “news” is older than the Fall.

O you who love this world, in this world be,
in Mary, in the manger, and in me.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections

Blessed darkness

A solstice meditation for both hemispheres

Blessed darkness, mystery’s robe,
host of all that exceeds our sight,
sanctuary of the unknown,
today you hold us near.
This night, this longest night,
when mystery emerges
from her chambers to sing,
tonight we offer up to you
our certainty we see it all;
tonight you close our eyes
and bid us dream.
Come, precious darkness,
give us a world
that is more than we can see.
Come, gentle darkness,
and hold a space
for our humble candles
to warm our hearts,
for the smallest star to shine
and lead us to the manger.


            ——— (the Equator)————


Blessed darkness, womb and shelter,
rest for weary eyes,
today you begin your long return.
This day, this longest day,
we offer up to you
our looking and our seeking
for your treasure.
Come, healing darkness,
on this, our longest day of labors,
and bid us rest.
Come, enfolding darkness,
close our eyes, pause our searching
and calm our anxious hearts,
for the One we seek seeks us,
and comes, and in the turning light
turns our hearts toward the manger.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections

No angels

Zechariah got an angel.
Mary got an angel, came to her door.
Joseph had regular updates,
angelic GPS directions coming and going.
Even the shepherds got personal notification.
I don’t get angels.
No heavenly messengers sing to me,
point out the miracles, lead the way,
shine with glory, tell me what to do.
But I want to know what this means,
where to look, where to go, what to do.
How do I do this without angels?

God, give me faith to sit tight and listen.

And listen.

To listen to the voice of love
until I know,
and then
to listen to the voice of love
until I sing.

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

Published
Categorized as Reflections
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