Well, the first Wednesday Wisdom of 2016.
How do you like the new year so far?
Oh…well then, here’s some wisdom.
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
3:15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah,
3:16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.
3:17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
3:21 Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened,
3:22 and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
I am glad, brothers and sisters, that our church is persecuted precisely for its preferential option for the poor and for trying to become incarnate in the interest of the poor and for saying to all the people, to rulers, to the rich and powerful: unless you become poor, unless you have a concern for the poverty of our people as though they were your own family, you will not be able to save society.
Source: The Violence of Love
God is an Underground River
by David Anderson on January 27, 2014
“God is an underground river,” Meister Eckhart said, “that no one can dam up or stop.”
I love that image of God because it completely flips the dominant image of God “up there.” When we first imagine a deity, God is always “up,” always distant, the Sky God of nearly every ancient religion. Until gradually it dawns upon us that the God whom the cosmos cannot contain is actually deep within. The ground of our being. And that underground river runs right through you. Sink a well within yourself and in the hidden darkness of your soul the river erupts. Water! Through the prophet Isaiah God promises even “streams in the desert.”
God is the subterranean gusher and prayer is the well. Draw deeply—and often.
I once heard a story about the importance of “often,” told by Jungian analyst and Episcopal priest John Sanford, who remembers a well in his childhood home that offered sweet cold water and never ran dry, even in the severest droughts that sent neighbors to the nearby lake. But when the old house was modernized and a new well was drilled and outfitted with an electric pump, the old well was covered up. Years later, half curious, he pulled the cover off the well and found it bone dry. He could hardly believe it. Sanford asked around and learned that when a well like this is neglected for years, all the underground rivulets that feed it begin to clog from disuse.
So pray today, even if you have time only to draw up a bucket or two of that cold sweet water of life. When you find your Source, keep it flowing.
The mockingbird took a single step into the air and dropped. His wings were still folded against his sides as though he were singing from a limb and not falling, accelerating thirty-two feet per second, through empty air. Just a breath before he would have been dashed to the ground, he unfurled his wings with exact, deliberate care, revealing the broad bars of white, spread his elegant, white-banded tail, and so floated onto the grass. I had just rounded a corner when his insouciant step caught my eye; there was no one else in sight. The fact of his free fall was like the old philosophical conundrum about the tree that falls in the forest. The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.