In this new year, we are probably all looking for peace in the world. But where does that peace start?
Sing verse 1:
Peace before us, peace behind us, peace under our feet.
Peace within us, peace over us, let all around us be peace.
That is a song by David Haas with the text based on a Navajo Prayer. It reminds us that peace does not start with someone else. It starts with you . .. your words, your actions, your kindness.
It is the same with another important virtue of our faith. Something that we all want, but perhaps it does not begin with someone else . . . it is your work to do, your focus.
Love before us, love behind us, love under our feet.
Love within us, love over us, let all around us be love.
You know, the name for our parish is special. Because it is a name that includes something that we all need . . . light. As many people tell me, there is something special about our parish. I believe it is the fact that many of you understand that it is not just what we do here, but when we act as Church out there [point to the world]. That is, when you have a connection of faith, an “ah-ha” moment with God, Jesus says in another part of the gospels, not to hide it under a basket, but to let it shine for all to see. Please join us in singing . . .
Light before us, light behind us, light under our feet.
Light within us, light over us, let all around us be light.
Finally, the two followers of John ask Jesus where he is staying. They were looking a location and house. Jesus responds by telling them to come and see for themselves.
In the second reading, Paul gives us the meaning of where Jesus lives. He says that we are the temples of the Holy Spirit. We are the containers for Christ. Not somewhere else, not someone else . . . it is you.
And we receive Eucharist to become Eucharist. We receive the Body of Christ to become the body of Christ. Receiving Eucharist is not a reward for living a good life of the past week, NO. It is grace and support for the coming week. It is food for the journey.
Let Christ be with you, and in you, this week (and every week). Let God lead you. fh
Join me in singing . . .
Christ before us, Christ behind us, Christ under our feet.
Christ within us, Christ over us, let all around us be Christ.
When I was on retreat at Thomas Merton’s hermitage at Gethsemani Abbey in 1985, I had a chance encounter that has stayed with me all these years. I was walking down a little trail when I recognized a recluse, what you might call a hermit’s hermit, coming toward me. Not wanting to intrude on his deep silence, I bowed my head and moved to the side of the path, intending to walk past him. But as we neared each other, he said, “Richard!” That surprised me. He was supposed to be silent. How did he know who I was? “Richard, you get chances to preach and I don’t. Tell the people one thing.” Pointing to the sky, he said, “God is not ‘out there’!” Then he said, “God bless you,” and abruptly continued down the path.
The belief that God is “out there” is the basic dualism that is tearing us all apart. Our view of God as separate and distant has harmed our relationships with sexuality, food, possessions, money, animals, nature, politics, and our own incarnate selves. This loss explains why we live such distraught and divided lives. Jesus came to put it all together for us and in us. He was saying, in effect, “To be human is good! The material and the physical can be trusted and enjoyed. This physical world is the hiding place of God and the revelation place of God!”
Far too much of religion has been about defining where God is and where God isn’t, picking and choosing who and what has God’s image and who and what doesn’t. In reality, it’s not up to us. We have no choice in the matter. All are beloved. Everyone—Catholic and Protestant, Christian and Muslim, black and white, gay and straight, able-bodied and disabled, male and female, Republican and Democrat—all are children of God. We are all members of the Body of Christ, made in God’s image, indwelled by the Holy Spirit, whether or not we are aware of this gift.
Can you see the image of Christ in the least of your brothers and sisters? This is Jesus’ only description of the final judgment (Matthew 25). But some say, “They smell. They’re a nuisance. They’re on welfare. They are a drain on our tax money.” Can we see Christ in all people, even the so-called “nobodies” who can’t or won’t play our game of success? When we can see the image of God where we don’t want to see the image of God, then we see with eyes not our own.
Jesus says we have to love and recognize the divine image even in our enemies. Either we see the divine image in all created things, or we don’t see it at all. Once we see God’s image in one place, the circle keeps widening. It doesn’t stop with human beings and enemies and the least of our brothers and sisters. It moves to frogs and pansies and weeds. Everything becomes enchanting with true sight. We cannot not live in the presence of God. We are totally surrounded and infused by God. All we can do is allow, trust, and finally rest in it, which is indeed why we are “saved” by faith—faith that this could be true.