Pins of Light:Scattered hints to provoke thought and talk about God...
This bible blog was launched for Advent 2007, and began as a daily reflection on scriptural readings until Easter of 2008. Since every reflection posed a question to God, this initial portion of Pins of Light is called Questions for God.
From March 2008 to December 2009, Pins of Light has featured a weekly reflection on the Sunday readings.
Since 2008, Advent and Lenten recollections have also been conducted on line.
In September 2010, this web site with its new look launches as the Sunday bible blogs resume. I hope you enjoy reading them and stumble into some hints about God's whereabouts.
Today we remember your Ascension. I guess many things can be said about it, but for me, it'll always be the day you went away.
Yes, I know: You didn't just pack up and leave. You didn't just go without explaining why you had to return to the Father. You didn't just disappear without making sure your disciples could continue your work. Most of all, you didn't leave without first promising to send us your Holy Spirit and to be with us till the end of time.
But still!
You send your disciples on a mission to proclaim your gospel to the whole world, and before they can even nod in agreement, you're off, you're gone, leaving them--and leaving us--behind, our eyes raised, our jaws dropped. What was that?!
So, before I rush off to celebrate another feast like Pentecost, I have to ask you one question: Why did you have to leave? Didn't it occur to you that you also had the option to stay? Don't get me wrong: I do believe that you are with us just as you promised, but your presence is much too subtle, your ways much too modest for our feeble eyes and fragile hearts. It's not always easy to detect your presence in the world around us, especially with all its noisy activities. And even when I search my own heart, it's also usually hard to find you or to hear your voice. So sometimes I can't help but wish you had skipped the Ascension altogether.
Now as a result of your Ascension and your modesty, we have all these bestsellers about your non-existence and the alleged falsehood of your teachings. We now have a whole battalion of what British critic Terry Eagleton calls the "Ditchkins"--a term he coined referring to what he describes as noisy, hysterical, and shallow atheists like Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins. The world is lapping up what they say and their hubristic idolatry of science and reason, while your official spokesmen, we priests and theologians, are--please forgive us--nowhere as articulate or media-savvy.
Lord Jesus, why not speak on your own behalf, and for your sake and ours, silence your critics once and for all?
But you don't. You choose not to, being the modest God that you are, and I guess you know better. Today, as I recall that day you rose to the sky, maybe it's best to accept that we are stuck here with a modest God. Maybe it'll also help to remember the angels' advice to your disciples: that we should spend our days searching not the sky, but the world and our own hearts because just as you promised, you are with us. Help me, Lord, never to tire of seeking you.
Amen. Why not share a Quick Prayer? Who knows? Other readers may be led to pray with you.
On Pentecost Sunday you keep your promise to send your Spirit to your disciples. If we take the account in the Acts of the Apostles literally, the scene unfolds quite dramatically--the sound of a mighty wind, a rain of fire, and a symphony of diverse languages. Because of Pentecost, we are told, your presence fills the world though often we fail to notice.
The 19-century poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning puts it this way:
Earth's crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God; But only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.
Barbara Brown Taylor, an Episcopalian preacher, reflects on the original burning bush, and observes that the bush did not exactly miraculously explode into flames right before Moses' very eyes. Rather, Moses, who was busy with his father-in-law's flock, noticed it only from the corner of his eyes and had to "turn aside"--that is, stop what he was doing, perhaps put the flock safely to the side, and make a detour to look at the sight. Moses could have made simply muttered, "Hmm, that's interesting!" and quickly move on--or maybe he could have made a mental note about the strange bush, promising to return after bringing the sheep safely to their fold.
But had he done so, Taylor notes, had Moses postponed going over to the bush, even if he had returned, the moment would have been gone. And Moses would have altogether missed out on his life-transforming face-to-face encounter with God.
Lord, how many burning bushes have I missed? How often have I been too busy, too much in a rush--or simply too distracted "plucking blackberries," all the while whining about how hard it is to sense your presence in my life? This Pentecost, grant me the grace to catch sight of the burning bushes you scatter all around me, and the patience to slow down and turn aside to experience your presence in this Spirit-filled world. Amen.
How about sharing a Quick Prayer here? Note: Here is a song I wrote years ago about the Holy Spirit in our lives. Co-written with Ed Daas and performed by Noel Cabangon, the song is called "Let Your Spirit." The music video was beautifully shot in Sagada by award-winning film director Lawrence Cordero.
