The Painted Prayerbook

Reading from the Gospels, Pentecost +2 (June 10), Year B: Mark 3.20-35

I still remember the day during my first year of seminary when Roberta Bondi, in our “Introduction to Christian Thought” course, drew a circle for the class. Placing a point in the center, she then drew lines from points around the circle that stretched toward the center point. This circle, she told us, was first traced by Dorotheos of Gaza, a monk who lived in the 6th century. In one of his homilies, Dorotheos invited his hearers to imagine such a circle, with God as the center point.

“The straight lines drawn from the circumference to the center are the lives of human beings,” Dorotheos said. “…To move toward God, then, human beings move from the circumference along the various radii of the circle to the center. But at the same time, the closer they are to God, the closer they become to one another; and the closer they are to one another, the closer they become to God.” [Dorotheos’s quote can be found in Bondi’s splendid book To Love as God Loves.]

With such persistence, Jesus works throughout his ministry to draw his hearers deeper into this circle. He defines the circle not as a place for folks who have a shared affinity, or who think the same way, or who hold all the same beliefs in common. The circle goes deeper than friendship. It is family.

On the day when Jesus’ kinfolk come looking for him—”to restrain him,” Mark tells us in this Sunday’s Gospel lection, “for people were saying, ‘He has gone out of his mind,'”—the crowd tells Jesus, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” He replies, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” Looking at those around him, Jesus says, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”

Jesus knows what it means to be family. He is not disrespecting his family of birth here; it is from them, after all, that he first learned to treasure the bonds of kinship, bonds that he now draws upon as an image and model for the relationship he seeks to have with us. Jesus simply has a notion of kinship that goes deeper and broader than ours often does. Jesus traces his circle wide, calling us all to be kinfolk to him by doing what God desires us to do. And if kinfolk to him, then kinfolk to one another, with all the delights and aches that come in learning to be a family.

In these days there is much that works to divide us and rend us and turn us away from one another. And so may we instead draw closer to each other as we stretch toward the God who lives at the center of the circle, and who somehow encompasses it—and us—all around.

P.S. I have a new reflection at Devotion Café; click the image or title below to visit:

Mojo

[To use the image “Kinfolk,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Reading from the Gospels, Trinity Sunday (June 3), Year B: John 3.1-17

As Trinity Sunday approaches, I find myself spiraling once again around Celtic wellsprings of faith that have so richly nourished the Christian tradition. As I’ve written about in a previous reflection for Trinity Sunday, Celtic folks have long devoted their creative energies not so much to laying out a clearly articulated systematic theology of the Trinity but rather to invoking and evoking the triune God in the rhythms and rituals, relationships and routines of daily life. For more than a millennium, the Celtic experience of the Trinity has appeared in a vivid variety of forms, including artwork, poetry, hymns, and prayers. The Three-in-One God is also called upon in blessings such as this one that Alexander Carmichael collected in Scotland in the 19th century and included in the Carmina Gadelica:

The guarding of the God of life be on you,
The guarding of loving Christ be on you,
The guarding of Holy Spirit be on you
Every night of your lives,
To aid you and enfold you
Each day and night of your lives.

Celtic wellsprings of spirituality remind us that the Trinity is not merely an idea to be grasped but a mystery to be experienced and a relationship to be entered into. This approach finds its undergirding in such stories as the one in this year’s Gospel lection for Trinity Sunday, where we get to eavesdrop on the nighttime visit that Nicodemus makes to Jesus. In Jesus’ responses to the questions Nicodemus poses about being “born from above,” we see that while understanding is important and something to be worked toward (“Are you a teacher of Israel,” Jesus asks of Nicodemus, “and yet you do not understand these things?”), what Christ desires most for us to grasp is the love of God: the love that sent Christ into the world to show us the face of God; the love that claims us and calls us; the love that invites us to enter into relationship with the One who dwells in mystery yet seeks to know us in the midst of everyday life; the love that drenches us and draws us into new life.

The approach of Trinity Sunday means that we have crossed once again into the season sometimes known as Ordinary Time. We had a brief bit of Ordinary Time earlier in the year, prior to Lent; now, starting with the day after Pentecost, we have entered into a much longer stretch that will lead us to the threshold of Advent. While the name “Ordinary Time” (from the Latin tempus per annum, “time through the year”) may well have its roots in the word ordinal, there is also a sense that the season encompasses the more commonplace sense of ordinary. Not in the sense of being lackluster or humdrum, as if God could be less than extraordinary. Rather, in these months that hold no major liturgical celebrations or feast days, we are beckoned to seek the God who shows up not only in the more dramatic times such as Lent and Easter, Advent and Christmas, but who meets us also in the rhythms of our daily living: in the patterns and repetitions and rituals that give order to our days; in the relationships and connections that reveal the God who inhabits every hour.

In the coming days and weeks—and in these moments, here and now—how will you look for the presence of the God who seeks you with constant love?

Blessing for Trinity Sunday

In this new season
may you know
the presence of the God
who dwells within your days,
the mystery of the Christ
who drenches you in love,
the blessing of the Spirit
who bears you into life anew.

For previous reflections on Trinity Sunday, click the images or titles below.

Trinity Sunday: A Spiral-Shaped God

Trinity Sunday: Blessing of the Ordinary
(includes “Blessing the Ordinary”)

For previous reflections on John 3.1-17, which also appears during Lent in Year A, click these images or titles.

Lent 2: Born of Water, Born of Spirit

Lent 2: In Which We Get Goosed

P.S. Join us for artful Advent preparation! Gary and I are excited about returning to the enchanting Grünewald Guild this summer, where we’ll be involved with the Liturgical Arts Week. The week will run from July 30-August 5, and our theme this year is “A Spiral-Shaped God.” I’ll be serving again as the keynote speaker for the week, and Gary and I will teach a class together called “Advent Portfolio: To Illuminate the Season.” The class will provide a great opportunity to dive into the Advent lectionary texts using a variety of creative approaches. Come join us! Classes at the Guild are limited in size and tend to fill up quickly; if you’re interested, be sure to register soon. More info at Liturgical Arts Week. (No experience as an artist is necessary!)

[To use the image “Drenched in the Mystery,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]