Epiphany!

"I went to the end of a road

and took a left or a right,

just to see what I'd see."

-Matthew Altenbach

     The author above is a photographer looking for an image. But I thought the quote is appropriate for today's liturgical feast of Epiphany.
     Epiphany is defined as the manifestation or revelation of what is divine, of what is sacred. "To see what I'd see..." I don't know what will be presented to me, to my senses as I turn around the next moment. To know what's coming, to expect something concrete, could make me ignore what is being revealed to me.
     My sitting meditations usually come to this: resting in God. When I am able to get out of the way, this sacred space consumes me, tears flow. I don't question it. I don't analyze it. I just let it flow as the warmth of the tears trickle down to my chin and drip into my folded hands.
     So in my day to day movements, I am invited to keep an open heart, an open mind. Not holding on to anything, not pushing anything away. Then perhaps, like the magi, I will see and be guided by the Divine Star shining and pointing to the Christ within my heart, within everyone's heart.
     Me, a magi, looking for the Messiah to worship, to adore, and to offer myself as gift. Won't that be an Epiphany?


How about you? How is your way of living a preparation, a readiness for the manifestation of the sacred in every aspect of your life?

Where shall I go to escape your spirit? Where shall I flee from your presence?

If I scale the heavens you are there, if I lie flat in Sheol, there you are.

If I speed away on the wings of the dawn,  if I dwell beyond the ocean,

even there your hand will be guiding me, your right hand holding me fast.

I will say, 'Let the darkness cover me, and the night wrap itself around me,'

even darkness to you is not dark, and night is as clear as the day. -Psalm 139

Seen the Holy One lately?

Be not afraid,

I go before you always.

Come, and follow me.

And I will give you rest.

-John Michael Talbot

What an invitation. So that's how my walk to the grocery store started on this cloudless blue sky sunny day. I wanted the walk to be a prayer, a meditation. A search for the Divine Presence. My eyes were open. My ears listening. All my other senses equally softly alert.

Then there he was... crossing the street to my side of the street, wearing a black t-shirt with what seemed to be an image of crown of thorns with a small cross below it in silver, or white. This young man, holding a water bottle on his right hand, now walking ahead of me was talking on his cell phone. Once in a while he looked back, as if checking up on me.

I saw this young man as the Christ. The cell phone represented his constant communication with the One who sent him. His looking back making sure I'm still on the path, ready to help me get right back on if I strayed. Sometimes we walked in the shade, sometimes in full sun, symbolizing the darkness and the light, the sadness and joy that is the human experience.

How about you? Where have you seen the Sacred One lately? When was the last time you were aware of the Divine Presence outside in the world?

Where can I go from your spirit?

Or where can I flee from your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, you are there;

if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.

If I take the wings of the morning

and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,

even there your hand shall lead me,

and your right hand shall hold me fast.

If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,

and the light around me become night’,

even the darkness is not dark to you;

the night is as bright as the day,

for darkness is as light to you.

-Psalm 139 /nrsv

Live. Pray. Sketch.

Sketch: A rapidly executed freehand drawing that is not intended as a finished work, often consisting of a multitude of overlapping lines.

Live. Pray. Sketch. Modified from Thomas Merton's beautiful quote:

What I do is Live.

How I live is pray.

How I pray is breathe.

Lately, I caught the sketch bug. Bought a book, An Illustrated Life, showing sketchbooks of 50 artists. I started to carry a Moleskin sketch book and pen with me wherever I go. The sketch above was based on a photo from a Seattle Times photos of the week slide show.

As with the definition above, my sketch was a quick drawing, consisting of a multitude of lines, not intended as a finished work of art.

Maybe this life is God's sketch. Not done yet, simply a basis for the masterpiece-to-be. I can't wait to see the final product.

For now, I wonder how can I help the Artist create this masterpiece quickly? What do you think?

Praise to you, Divine Artist,

For it was you who formed my inward parts;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works;

that I know very well.

-Psalm 139

Question Initial Assumption

Abbot Joseph asked Abbot Pastor:

Tell me how I can become a monk.

The elder replied:

If you want to have rest here in this life

and also in the next,

ask: Who am I?

And judge no one.

+

I was supposed to go to Chehalis for a Blessed Movements workshop. It's a 2-hour drive down. So Thursday and Friday, I emailed and phoned my contact and no answer and no reply. I was beginning to judge her. By midnight last night, I emailed her saying I am not coming to Chehalis if I didn't hear from her. By that time, I was hoping she's okay, and safe. That was the excuse I made up for her not replying to my emails and calls.

Then she called at 10 am today telling me no one registered. But that she left a voice message 4 days ago on my cell telling me the gig is off because of non-registration. I never check my messages. So there. If I judged her as 'incompetent' or something worst, then I'd have been disrespectful, unloving, toward her.

How about you? When has something like this happened to you and you assumed 'wrong' about the motive or the person? What will you remind yourself of next time your expectation is not being met?

How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!

   How vast is the sum of them! 

I try to count them—they are more than the sand;

   I come to the end—I am still with you. 

-Psalm 139