I’m weary of the noise, weary of the half baked conspiracies, weary of the anger, and thinking about how much of my life was wasted has wearied me even further. It’s time for some detox, time for pure water from the Scriptures and the Saints to wash over and through me. Time for rest. Time to do good things. Time to exchange meaninglessness for grace.
God’s unfathomable love for such a beligerent species such as we are.
How can God, knowing full well what we have done, to His creation, to each other, to ourselves, and knowing not just what is seen but even the darkest recesses of what is inside of us, love?
Who would, who could, blame God from erasing existence as we know and starting again in the hopes of something, anything, better? Who could judge God for saying “This experiment has failed it is now time for another?”
Yet God has mercy, even on those who hate Him to His face, those who would destroy, those who would deliberately promote evil on the Earth, and me when I am at my worst.
Unimaginable, yet real. Beyond understanding, yet available to any truly seeking heart.
I wish things were different. I wish the world I live in was different, less noisy, less angry, less obsessed. For now, though, this doesn’t seem to be its path.
Anger won’t help either. What would my anger do to help things become less angry?
There are times, as well, when I simply want to be left alone. And as much as a safe hiding place would be nice eventually I would be forced to come out of my bunker if, for no other reason, to get coffee. People aren’t my problem anyway.
I think the only thing to survive these days is to fill yourself with light. Go to church. Read the Scriptures. Bathe, frequently, in any holy waters you can find. Pray and absorb every small bit of God and goodness to fill the empty places and then live as much like heaven as possible.
Do that and the worst that can happen is joy and the best is that you join the Saints.
in every illness and injury we endure because they remind us we are mortal, that our bodies are subject to the same brokenness that is now part of the whole creation. If we understand this we are on the first step of wisdom and free ourselves from everything that is less and towards everything that is holy and good because we understand that this time of our existence is limited and subject to the whims of nature and, in knowing this, invest it’s energies in that which is eternal.
and if the people of a parish don’t understand a larger and greater cause as the reason for why a parish exists they’ll be hesitant to share their resources, as well they should. A parish that has a broader mission, a sense of being and doing in the world greater than “We need to keep the doors open” is a parish that will inspire people to support it. If your parish doesn’t have that sense of mission and purpose it’s never too late to find it and when you do there’s a better than average chance that people, when they understand what it is you do and are besides merely existing, will rise to the occasion.
One of the key rolls, I think, of a Priest, in a parish is to be a person of vision, to help the people in the parish see something larger and better and good about themselves and then equip them, both personally and as a parish, to become that larger, better, and good.
A key question to ask is one I heard in seminary years ago. “If your parish where to close today, who, besides the members, would miss it?” Would there be a loss in the larger community? Would there be important charitable deeds that would stop because it closed? Would the moral tone of your community be diminished? Would the people in your community feel a loss? If your answer to the question is “No”, and you’re willing to do something about it, then you’ve already taken the first, and most crucial, step in helping your parish become what God, would have it be.