in him ...

Today I am enjoying an excercise of contemplative prayer. Reading Ephesians 1:3-12, the Father's plan of salvation, I found myself focusing on the words IN HIM which are repeated several times through the passage:

     IN - not out, beside, with - but IN - inside, immersed in, surrounded by, all-encompassing

     HIM - no-one else but Jesus Christ, as God, our Saviour

I found myself remembering from long ago a science fiction story in which the protagonist finds himself in an alien world where the atmosphere is so dense that one can swim through it as if through water, and so "fly" in a way above the buildings and streets, like a bird but much more slowly.

Thinking of this, I see myself sinking into Christ as into the sea, with tiny bubbles rising around me; and I begin to move my arms a bit, then find it's like that story: I can remain suspended, surrounded, deep within this atmosphere that is HIM.

He is in me, and I am IN HIM, one with Him.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.

In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will, so that we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory.

Ephesians 1:3-12. The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Permanent Text Edition® (2016). Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

may day - with st. joseph the worker

It's May Day today - the first day of May, traditionally the day to celebrate workers and work. I think of Joseph, the foster father of Jesus, who is honoured today in the Calendar of the Saints. As I consider his life and ask God to show and teach me, I ponder on the thought that to Joseph, it must all have been a Big Mystery - but nevertheless, from the first appearance of the angel, he assented to God's direction.
As I think of Jesus growing up under Joseph's fatherly direction, Joseph must have taught Jesus his own traits, just as we all pass along our traits and habits, both good and bad, to our children. And so I believe we can say with confidence that, like Jesus, Joseph must have been a thoughtful, careful, devout man of faith; hard working, quiet, considering his actions, thinking before speaking - yet speaking out boldly when necessary. He definitely was deeply faithful: he must have KNOWN God well over his lifetime in order to have received the message from the angel and assented in this way. Later, he heard from God in a dream - and understood that it was God. He knew God's voice.
Overall, I come away with the knowledge that Joseph DID HIS PART even when he did not understand God's plan. I must do the same!

Anton Raphael Mengs (1728–1779), “The Dream of St. Joseph"

true colours - that's why i love you

I sing with the choir on Sunday mornings at St. John The Evangelist Anglican Church in Port Hope, Ontario. I am grateful that we altos sit on the north side of the chancel, which gives me a great view of the spring sunshine pouring in through the beautiful and ancient stained glass windows on the south wall. I love stained glass of all sorts, and the liturgy lends itself at some moments to quiet contemplation, which is my chance to gaze off into the colours and lights of the glass, melted by the sunlight into brilliance. The tinted rays splash joyfully over the congregants, who are seemingly completely oblivious to how they are contributing to the decoration of the church by reflecting the light in this way.

As I drift, I realize that Community is a stained glass window. Our community at St. John's is made up of all sorts and conditions of humanity. Each member is a piece in the completed puzzle of the window. Each one has unique facets - the particular colour, texture and transparency of the glass; the size and shape it's cut into; how it harmonizes, contrasts or clashes with the nearby pieces; how it has been linked into the overall image by thicker or thinner lines of lead. Some of these pieces may be retrieved from the discarded bits of other works, or reclaimed from brokenness. Some may have cracks or chips. Some may be cut from new, whole glass fresh from the factory. No matter - they all take their place in the picture. And most importantly - they all allow the sun to shine through them to illuminate the world for those who wish to see.

Here I am, being myself, showing my true colours. Be brave; trust in God and do the same. The Great Artisan chose you and me personally, put us together, right there in the picture, in exactly the right spot. Let the Light shine through!

I see your true colors / And that's why I love you / So don't be afraid to let them show /  Your true colors.              

Cyndi Lauper - True Colors Lyrics | MetroLyrics 

True Colors | YouTube 

strike the right note

My prayer corner contains a small Tibetan brass singing bowl. I can strike it with the small wooden mallet, or I can run the mallet steadily around the outside of the rim until the bowl begins to hum. With care and experience, a rich singing tone results and the air is filled with it. I occasionally luck into this moment, and just as fast as it came, it's gone! I keep trying.

But whether by striking the side or by stroking the rim, the bowl produces a vibrating tone that first rings out, then gradually dies in volume, and I lean my ear closer and closer to catch every bit of this sweet music. Eventually the singing stops. However, something has changed. Before the mallet was employed, the room was silent, true - but now the silence is deep with significance. As I focus in on the diminishing voice of the bowl, the world recedes and I am able to be quiet. And I must be quiet in the presence of my Gardener, as God is known to whisper, and I long to hear that still, small voice.

Now that I am quiet, I contemplate the mallet itself. I rub it smooth with a hard tool, and polish it with beeswax as I consider how God is doing the same to me. The small knots in the wood - one of which goes right through to the other side - are signs of where the original branch was pruned. God has pruned me, leaving scars of healing, grace, and mercy, and shaping me for a purpose. As I polish, I see depths of colour and grain in the wood that I had not noticed before - details, facets that otherwise could not have been seen. My loving Parent also polishes me until I shine with Light. Others will see and glorify the Great Artisan who has made this His creature into a thing of beauty as well as a tool fit for its purpose. The work is ongoing ...

And just as the polished wooden mallets strikes a tone out of the bowl, may I strike the right note as I sound out for God. May I always ring true!