August 11, 2013

Ready

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost Proper 14, Year C • Ordinary Time
Isaiah 1:1, 10-20, Psalm 50:1-8, 23-24, Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16, Luke 12:32-40

Jesus urges us to be ready to experience the manifestation of the Divine, whenever, however, it may happen for us. God is here right now, indwelling us each and all, encircling us with love, closer than our very breath, but we are all too often unaware. Mark Nepo, in his book the Stone Soup Book Group is reading this summer 7000 Ways to Listen, says that we are like the fish swimming in water unaware of the water, like the bird flying through air unaware of the air.

What does it take for us to get ourselves ready to realize the presence of the Holy One in our lives? All our lessons for today seem to address this in one way or another. The prophet Isaiah says we need to clean up our act and not rely on tradition to carry us along, to “cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow,” all important ways of showing our love for our neighbors, near and far. The psalmist points out that means to “keep in [God’s] way,” what today we might call the Christ Path, following in the footsteps of Jesus. The author of the Hebrews’ lesson indicates it is trusting God to be faithful to the Divine promises that begins to open our eyes to the Holy One in our midst. But for me, the answer lies in the center of today’s gospel passage: “. . . open the door for him as soon as he comes and he knocks,” nothing to “do,” just “be,” waiting expectantly for the knock.

Recently I shared some ways of meditative prayer with a group of committed Christian women from across the diocese. It was clear that most of them were ready, “waiting expectantly for the knock,” and thus experienced the presence of God in palpable ways during our time together. Some, however, demonstrated their lack of readiness by the distractions of all the baggage they brought along with them that day. If we want to be ready to greet God, we have to “sell our possessions,” give up all those comfortable barriers we have erected to keep us safe right where we are. Fortunately, the psalmist reminds us: “Our God will come and will not keep silence; before him is a consuming flame, and round about him a raging storm.” I take that to mean that the fire of God’s love comes to consume the dross of our lives, and the wind of the Spirit comes along to blow away the ash to make us ready at last to meet the Divine face to face.

Pat Horn