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Pentecost: The Origin of Fire

May 22, 2012

The Origin of Fire
The Origin of Fire © Jan L. Richardson

Reading from the Book of Acts, Day of Pentecost (May 27): Acts 2.1-21

Gary and I have just returned from spending a few days in Virginia, where we led a retreat and Sunday worship at the wonderful Gayton Kirk, and Gary did a couple of concerts in the Richmond area. Amongst the marvelous folks we spent time with over the weekend were  two young sisters, seven and eight years old, who each gave me a piece of their artwork, and an 87-year-old woman who, after a series of losses, spoke of how she is excited to see what new thing God has in store for her.

On the morning of Pentecost, after the Spirit-scorched disciples are accused of being drunk, Peter reaches back in time as he addresses his accusers, conjuring the words of the prophet Joel. In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams (Acts 1.17,  NRSV,  drawing from Joel 2.28).

Borrowing Joel’s words, Peter reminds us that we belong to a God who has small regard for chronology. In the days to come, Peter and the prophet tell us, God will pour out God’s Spirit upon those of few years as well as those possessed of many years; those with little history or experience will be able to envision things yet to unfold, and the elders who surely must have seen it all will be visited with new dreams of events they could never have imagined.

In the last days, Peter and Joel tell us. Yet the God who is not a slave to chronology, this God who abides in time but is not bound by it, offers us glimpses of how the Spirit moves even in these days. For me, these glimpses come in small moments that linger: young girls whose drawings invite me to see the world through their eyes and imaginations; a woman of great years whose expectant waiting challenges me to ponder where I am looking for new life. Each one draws my vision, my attention, my dreaming toward the God who pours out the Spirit with abandon: this Ancient One who is the origin of fire and sends it forth to make all things new.

For previous reflections on Pentecost, click the images or titles below. And for my subscribers who receive these blog posts via email: if it’s been a while since you’ve visited The Painted Prayerbook online, please stop by and see our new look!

Pentecost: One Searing Word
(includes “Pentecost Blessing”)

Pentecost: Fire and Breath

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

Posted in art, lectionary, sacred time | 3 Comments »

Easter Sunday: Seen

April 6, 2012

I Do Not Know Where They Have Laid Him
Image: I Do Not Know Where They Have Laid Him © Jan Richardson

But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”
—John 20.11-13

From a lectionary reading for Easter Sunday: John 20.1-18

Reflection for Easter Day

I never fail to be dazzled by this moment when Jesus calls out the name of the woman whom he finds weeping by his tomb. Mary. At the sound of her name, the Magdalene finally sees and knows who has found her there. It is a stunning moment of recognition.

Yet as I spiral back around this passage this week, what draws my attention is not only the way that Mary Magdalene sees Christ when he calls her name. What tugs at me this time is how, in that moment of hearing her name, Mary Magdalene must see herself.

With an inflection that only Christ could have given to it, his speaking of her name conveys everything: all their history, all that passed between them in their friendship, all that he knows of this woman whom he healed and who, along with other women, traveled with him and sustained him from her own resources. He knows her. He sees her. And now he asks her to see herself as he does.

Mary.

In that moment, and in the call and commissioning that will soon come, the risen Christ gives Mary Magdalene to herself. Not, of course, as if he owns or controls her but because, as ever, he knows her and wants to free her from what would hinder her from the life that God desires for her. Long ago, Jesus had released the Magdalene from the septet of demons that haunted her. (“A demon for every day of the week,” writes Kathleen Norris; “how practical; how womanly.”) Now he releases her again, this time from clinging to him, from becoming entangled with him. Where holding onto him might seem holy, Christ sees—and enables Mary Magdalene to see—that her path and her life lie elsewhere. Beyond this moment, beyond this garden, beyond what she has known. In going, Mary affirms that she has seen what she needed to see: not just Christ in the glory of his resurrection, but also herself, graced with the glory that he sees in her.

In the centuries to come, Mary Magdalene will become layered over with other visions that people have of her: other titles, other depictions, other names. Sinner, prostitute, penitent, bride: the stories and legends of who the Magdalene was and what she became will both fascinate us and frustrate our ability to know her. But on this day, the Magdalene we meet in the garden is simply one who has learned to see, and who goes forth to proclaim what she has seen.

This day, what will we allow ourselves to see: of Christ, of ourselves? How would it be to know ourselves as he does, to see ourselves as he sees us, to know that the risen Christ speaks our name, too, and releases us to tell what we have seen? What will you proclaim as you leave the empty tomb this day?

Seen
A Blessing for Easter Day

You had not imagined
that something so empty
could fill you
to overflowing,

and now you carry
the knowledge
like an awful treasure
or like a child
that roots itself
beneath your heart:

how the emptiness
will bear forth
a new world
that you cannot fathom
but on whose edge
you stand.

So why do you linger?
You have seen,
and so you are
already blessed.
You have been seen,
and so you are
the blessing.

There is no other word
you need.
There is simply
to go
and tell.
There is simply
to begin.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: “Seen” appears in my new book, Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

For previous reflections for Easter Sunday, click the images or titles below.


Easter Sunday: Risen
(includes “Easter Blessing”)


Easter Sunday: Out of the Garden

Last year, Gary and I created a video that weaves images from my “Hours of Mary Magdalene” series with his gorgeous song “Mary Magdalena,” which tells of Christ and Mary Magdalene’s encounter on the morning of the resurrection. Click below to see the video.


The Hours of Mary Magdalene

[To use the image “I Do Not Know Where They Have Laid Him,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. To use the “Hours of Mary Magdalene” video, please visit this page. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Posted in art, blessings, Easter, Gospel of John, lectionary, sacred time | 6 Comments »

Day 39/Good Friday: They Took the Body of Jesus

April 5, 2012

According to the Burial Custom
Image: According to the Burial Custom © Jan Richardson (click to enlarge)

They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews.
—John 19.40

From a lectionary reading for Good Friday: John 18.1-19.42

Reflection for Friday, April 6 (Good Friday/Day 39 of Lent)

Years earlier, when an angel had appeared in a sheep pasture proclaiming good news of great joy, the angel had told the shepherds of a Savior, a Messiah, a Lord whom they would find as a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger. Now, on this day, the Savior is wrapped in a spiced shroud of linen cloths, a scented winding sheet to hold him as he lies in the tomb.

It’s tempting to draw a stark contrast between the emotions of those who held Christ at his birth and those who held him at his death. Though joy must have prevailed at the beginning of his life and fear and grief at the end, surely, among those who saw and knew him best, celebration and sorrow were mixed on each occasion. Yet as at the beginning, so at the end: those who love Christ enfold him, tend him, bless him.

Song of the Winding Sheet
For Good Friday

We never
would have wished it
to come to this,
yet we call
these moments holy
as we hold you.

Holy the tending,
holy the winding,
holy the leaving,
as in the living.

Holy the silence,
holy the stillness,
holy the turning
and returning to earth.

Blessed is the One
who came
in the name,

blessed is the One
who laid
himself down,

blessed is the One
emptied for us,

blessed is the One
wearing the shroud.

Holy the waiting,
holy the grieving,
holy the shadows
and gathering night

Holy the darkness,
holy the hours,
holy the hope
turning toward light.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: “Song of the Winding Sheet” appears in my new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

For previous reflections on Good Friday, click the images or titles below.


Good Friday: What Abides


Good Friday: In Which We Get Nailed

The video Listening at the Cross intertwines my series of images on the Seven Last Words of Christ with Gary’s exquisite song “This Crown of Thorns.”


Listening at the Cross

[To use the image “According to the Burial Custom,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. To use the “Listening at the Cross” video, please visit this page. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Posted in art, blessings, Gospel of John, lectionary, Lent, sacred time | 4 Comments »

Day 38/Holy Thursday: Cup of the New Covenant

April 4, 2012

In the Cup of the New Covenant
Image: In the Cup of the New Covenant © Jan Richardson

In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying,
“This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this,
as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”
—1 Corinthians 11.25

From a lectionary reading for Holy Thursday/Maundy Thursday:
1 Corinthians 11.23-26

Reflection for Thursday, April 5 (Holy Thursday/Day 38 of Lent)

On a windy spring day long past, my friend Kary and I hurry through the streets of an art festival in downtown Atlanta. I am hosting a Communion service that evening, and we are searching in hopes of finding a potter who has a chalice that we can use. It’s nearly time for the festival to shut down when Kary and I, empty-handed, head down the last street. There, near the end of the street, we find a potter who has begun to pack up his booth. But among the pieces he still has out are several lovely earthenware chalices. I select one, and we leave the festival joyful and relieved, carrying the beautiful cup—the first chalice I would own—and its matching paten.

It has been a long time since I’ve thought of that spring day and the grail quest it held. But that’s what the table invites us to do: to remember, to gather around the cup of memory and the bread of celebration, to enter again into the stories—and the Story—that they hold. In today’s scripture reading, Paul’s telling of the story of the Last Supper is elegant in its utter simplicity. And heartbreaking. And brimming with hope.

In the years and centuries to follow this meal, the Christian tradition will spill vast quantities of ink over the meaning and doctrine of what takes place on this night. Yet Paul’s story, received from Christ and passed along to us, lays bare the essence of the gift: This is my body, Christ says with the bread in his hands, that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me. Cradling the cup, Christ tells his table companions, This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.

Given. Poured out. For us.

This day, this Holy Thursday, beckons us to return to the table, to gather around the bread that has been offered to us, the cup that has been poured out for us. Yet this day will also send us out: away from the table and into the world, in search of those who hunger and thirst for what Christ gives: to us, through us. This is the real grail quest: to discern what to do with what we have been given, and then to do this. What path will the bread and the cup—and the One who offers them—impel you to take?

Blessing the Bread, the Cup
For Holy Thursday

Let us bless the bread
that gives itself to us
with its terrible weight,
its infinite grace.

Let us bless the cup
poured out for us
with a love that drenches,
that makes us anew.

Let us gather
around these gifts
simply given
and deeply blessed.

And then let us go
bearing the bread,
carrying the cup,
laying the table
within a hungering world.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: “Blessing You Cannot Turn Back” appears in my new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

P.S. For previous reflections on Holy Thursday, click the images or titles below.

Holy Thursday: Take a Blessing

Holy Thursday: Feet and Food

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

Posted in blessings, lectionary, Lent, sacred time | 3 Comments »

Day 30: Blessed Is the One

March 26, 2012

Palm Sunday II
Image: Palm Sunday II © Jan Richardson (click image to enlarge)

Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”
—Mark 11.8-9

From a lectionary reading for Palm Sunday: Mark 11.1-11

Reflection for Tuesday, March 27 (Day 30 of Lent)

Lately I have found myself thinking about procession and pilgrimage: how we move with mindfulness across a landscape that transforms us along the way; what propels us to set off down paths made sacred by those who have traveled before us; which roads draw us closer to God, and which ones draw us farther away from being aware of God’s presence.

There are times for venturing down a holy path that has physical substance, giving ourselves to traveling a real road that will alter us in ways we cannot predict. And then there are times for committing ourselves to a way that will not take us far in terms of physical distance but will draw us down interior pathways we have not explored before. The desert mothers and fathers of the early church well knew this latter journey. They often counseled staying put, wanting to make sure that physical travel wasn’t being treated as a substitute for interior work rather than an aid to it. Reflecting on this in her book The Forgotten Desert Mothers, Laura Swan writes, “The desert journey is one inch long and many miles deep.”

The road that Jesus traveled to Jerusalem in order to make his entrance that we celebrate on Palm Sunday was not terribly long in terms of physical distance. Yet it was miles deep, marked by years of preparation and prayer, discernment and courage as Jesus traveled farther into the fullness of who he was meant to become.

And what road do we travel to meet the Christ who comes toward us on that ancient way of procession and pilgrimage? What journey do we need to take, by inches and miles, in order to welcome him?

“My life’s work,” my Franciscan friend Father Carl once said, “is to go on a pilgrimage to who I am.” This week and beyond, may we make that pilgrimage.

Blessed Is the One
For Palm Sunday

Blessed is the One
who comes to us
by the way of love
poured out with abandon.

Blessed is the One
who walks toward us
by the way of grace
that holds us fast.

Blessed is the One
who calls us to follow
in the way of blessing,
in the path of joy.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: “Blessed Is the One” appears in my new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons. You can find the book here.

For previous reflections for Palm Sunday, please click the images or titles below.


Palm Sunday: The Way It Makes
(includes “Blessing of Palms”)


Palm Sunday: The Temple by Night
(for Mark 11.1-11)


Palm Sunday: Where the Way Leads

This reflection is part of the daily series “Teach Me Your Paths: A Pilgrimage into Lent.” If you’re new to the series, welcome! You can visit the first post, Teach Me Your Paths: Entering Lent, to learn more about the series and see where we’ve traveled this season.

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

Posted in art, blessings, Gospel of Mark, lectionary, Lent, sacred time | 2 Comments »

Day 12: Remember the Sabbath Day

March 1, 2012

On the Seventh Day
Image: On the Seventh Day © Jan Richardson (click image to enlarge)

Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy….For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.
—Exodus 20.8, 11

From a lectionary reading for Lent 3: Exodus 20.1-17

Reflection for Tuesday, March 6 (Day 12 of Lent)

Today’s reflection is from In the Sanctuary of Women, from the chapter “A Way in the Wilderness: The Book of the Desert Mothers.”

But there is this too. Respite. Rest. Letting the desert be the desert, without feeling compelled to bulldoze our way through it. I think of a long stretch when I found myself in a soul struggle that had caught me entirely by surprise. Consumed by the wrestling and working and searching, I felt exhausted. After a time, my spiritual director, Maru, gave me this phrase: holy absence.

There are times, she said, sometimes seasons, for removing ourselves from the struggle. Time for sabbath. Time for rest.

Blessing

Even in the desert,
even in the wilderness,
sabbath comes.
May you keep it.
Light the candles,
say the prayers:

Welcome, sabbath.
Welcome, rest.
Enter in
and be our guest.

—Jan Richardson

This reflection is part of the series Teach Me Your Paths: A Pilgrimage into Lent.

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

Posted in art, blessings, lectionary, Lent, sacred time | 1 Comment »

Transfiguration Sunday: To the Mountain Again

February 12, 2012

Transfiguration II
Transfiguration II © Jan L. Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Transfiguration Sunday: Mark 9.2-9

With a trip this week and getting ready to launch a new Lenten series, a picture will need to be worth a thousand words today. I do have a couple of previous reflections on Transfiguration Sunday and hope you’ll visit them. Click on the images or titles below:

Transfiguration: Back to the Drawing Board

Transfiguration Sunday: Show and (Don’t) Tell

I’ll be launching my new Lenten series tomorrow, with daily posts throughout the season, so come back soon! I wish you many blessings in this Transfiguration week.

Posted in art, Gospel of Mark, lectionary, sacred time | Leave a Comment »

Baptism of Jesus: A Return to the River

January 6, 2012


Born of Water, Born of Spirit © Jan L. Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Epiphany 1/Baptism of Jesus: Mark 1.4-11

If you’re celebrating Epiphany this Sunday, scroll down or visit Epiphany: Blessing for Those Who Have Far to Travel.

I kept thinking I was going to be able to create a new reflection and image for Baptism of Jesus Sunday, but I was happily consumed with preparing the retreat for Women’s Christmas and finally had to let go of doing something entirely new for Sunday. If you haven’t visited my reflection on Women’s Christmas (which some folks celebrate on Epiphany) at the Sanctuary of Women blog, I’d love for you to stop by. The reflection includes the mini-retreat (which you can download as a PDF at no cost) that I designed as an opportunity to spend time in reflection on this day. If you can’t take time today, know that the retreat works anytime! Here’s where you can find it:

Celebrating Women’s Christmas

I do have a quartet of previous reflections on the Baptism of Jesus and invite you to visit these. Click on the images or titles below to find them. Do not miss Janet Wolf’s story about the baptism of Fayette in the post Epiphany 1: Baptized and Beloved. Her story continues to bless and haunt me as it challenges me to think about what the sacrament of baptism really means.

Baptism of Jesus: Following the Flow

Epiphany 1: Baptized and Beloved

Epiphany 1: Take Me to the River

Epiphany 1: Ceremony (with a Side of Cake)

I also have a charcoal of the Baptism of Jesus, which originally appeared in The Christian Century magazine. You can find it on my images website by clicking this thumbnail:

Whether you’re celebrating Baptism of Jesus or Epiphany this Sunday, I wish you many blessings!

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

Posted in art, Epiphany, Gospel of Mark, lectionary, sacred time | 2 Comments »

Epiphany: Blessing for Those Who Have Far to Travel

December 31, 2011


Epiphany © Jan L. Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Epiphany, Years ABC: Matthew 2.1-12

Merry Christmas to you, still! Because Advent is always such a wonderfully intense time for me, with offering The Advent Door and being engaged in other holiday happenings, I usually arrive at Christmas Day quite spent and ready for a long winter’s nap. I am grateful that instead of being over on December 25, when I’m finally able to take a breath, Christmas is a season—a short one, to be sure, with only twelve days, but a season nonetheless, with its own rhythm and invitations.

This year, the days of Christmas have been for me a time of resting, connecting with family and friends, long walks in the beautiful Florida sunshine, and doing some dreaming about the year ahead. Though the coming months are sure to be marked by surprises, I want to enter the year with some sense of what I’d like for the path to look like, and where I’m feeling drawn to go.

The Christmas season ends with Epiphany, a feast day in which the early church celebrated Jesus’ brilliant manifestation (epiphaneia in Greek, also translated as “appearing”) not only to the Magi but also to the world through his birth, baptism, and first recorded miracle at the wedding at Cana. Eastern Christianity maintains this multifaceted celebration of Epiphany, while we in the West focus primarily on remembering and celebrating the arrival of the Magi, those mysterious and devoted Wise Men who traveled far to welcome the Christ and offer their gifts.

As we travel toward Epiphany and savor the final days of Christmas, this is a good time to ponder where we are in our journey. As we cross into the coming year, where do you find yourself on the path? Have you been traveling more by intention or by reacting to what’s come your way? What direction do you feel drawn to go in during the coming weeks and months? Is there anything you need to let go of—or to find—in order to take the next step? In the coming months, what gift do you most need to offer, that only you can give?

Blessings and traveling mercies to you as we approach Epiphany and the year to come. I look forward to walking with you.

For Those Who Have Far to Travel
An Epiphany Blessing

If you could see
the journey whole,
you might never
undertake it,
might never dare
the first step
that propels you
from the place
you have known
toward the place
you know not.

Call it
one of the mercies
of the road:
that we see it
only by stages
as it opens
before us,
as it comes into
our keeping,
step by
single step.

There is nothing
for it
but to go,
and by our going
take the vows
the pilgrim takes:

to be faithful to
the next step;
to rely on more
than the map;
to heed the signposts
of intuition and dream;
to follow the star
that only you
will recognize;

to keep an open eye
for the wonders that
attend the path;
to press on
beyond distractions,
beyond fatigue,
beyond what would
tempt you
from the way.

There are vows
that only you
will know:
the secret promises
for your particular path
and the new ones
you will need to make
when the road
is revealed
by turns
you could not
have foreseen.

Keep them, break them,
make them again;
each promise becomes
part of the path,
each choice creates
the road
that will take you
to the place
where at last
you will kneel

to offer the gift
most needed—
the gift that only you
can give—
before turning to go
home by
another way.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: This blessing appears in my new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

P.S. For previous reflections on Epiphany here at The Painted Prayerbook, click the images or titles below. Also, the special holiday discount on annual subscriptions to Jan Richardson Images (the website that makes my work available for use in worship and education) will be available through Epiphany Day (January 6). For info, visit Jan Richardson Images.

Epiphany: Where the Map Begins

Feast of the Epiphany: Blessing the House

Feast of the Epiphany: A Calendar of Kings

The Feast of the Epiphany: Magi and Mystery

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

Posted in art, blessings, Epiphany, Gospel of Matthew, holidays, lectionary, sacred time | 23 Comments »

Inspired: On the Feast of All Saints

October 29, 2011


A Gathering of Spirits © Jan L. Richardson

I’m recently back from a fantastic trip to Kansas City to see my friends and artist-heroes, Peg and Chuck Hoffman. The trip was, in large measure, an occasion to experience some “art reinvigoration,” as Peg put it—sort of a spa vacation for my inner artist. Coming in the midst of some fallow time and creative shifts in the studio, my visit to Kansas City provided marvelous sustenance for my eyes and my creative soul.

I spent time in the studio with Peg and Chuck, where we did some painting on the World Canvas Project. The World Canvas has grown out of Peg and Chuck’s experience in working in such places as Belfast, Northern Ireland; Chuck has created a beautiful blog about the World Canvas, where you can have a glimpse of the project and our painting session at this post that Chuck recently added: Blessings.

Peg and I spent an afternoon doing “retail research,” which featured a splendid browse through Anthropologie (be sure to check out their visually inspiring Tumblr-powered site at the Anthropologist). Chuck and I made a trip to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, where, as it happened, there’s currently an exhibition of prints by Romare Bearden, best known for his collage work and who has been a source of inspiration for me. We found artful treasures at used bookstores; visited Peg and Chuck’s church that features liturgical art by Richard Caemmerer (cofounder of the Grünewald Guild); had a pivotal conversation while sitting on the floor of their prayer room one morning, looking at images and dreaming of books to be born; and savored time at tasty tables where we talked about the wonders and challenges of living at the intersection of art and faith.

In the creative life, it can sometimes feel like we are laboring alone. My vocation as an artist and writer—and my natural disposition—requires a goodly measure of solitude in order to be present to and tend what’s trying to come forth. And of course the experience of feeling like we’re alone isn’t limited to those who work as artists or in other professions that are obviously creative. My time with Peg and Chuck underscored for me how important it is for us—regardless of our vocation—to stay close to our sources of inspiration: the people and places and practices that help us know who we are and what God has called each of us to do and to be in this world. It is crucial to connect with those who can provide insight and energy and encouragement for this work.

We’re coming up on a day that reminds us of all this. The Feast of All Saints on November 1—one of my favorite days in the Christian calendar—invites us to remember that although we are each called to some measure of solitude in order to discern what God wants to bring forth in our lives, we never go about this entirely alone. All Saints Day is an occasion to celebrate and revisit the faithful who have gone before us (and not just those who have been canonically designated as saints), those whose lives provide inspiration for us who follow on the path. The saints, who are not models of perfection but rather people who opened themselves to the ways that God sought to work in and through their particular lives and gifts, invite us not to copy their lives but to draw encouragement from them as we seek to let God do this same work in our own particular lives.

So where are you finding inspiration these days? Who provides encouragement on your path? How have you seen the Spirit work through the gifts of another in a way that helps you trust that the Spirit will work through your own gifts? Who helps you remember you are not alone?

Prayer

God of the generations,
when we set our hands to labor,
thinking we work alone,
remind us that we carry
on our lips
the words of prophets,
in our veins
the blood of martyrs,
in our eyes
the mystics’ visions,
in our hands
the strength of thousands.

A blessed All Saints Day to you! On this day, in this season, in the company of the communion of saints, may you find yourself in a thin, thin place where heaven and earth meet and you receive what you need for the path ahead.

[The “God of the generations” prayer is from my book In Wisdom’s Path: Discovering the Sacred in Every Season.]

P.S. For an earlier reflection on All Saints, see Feast of All Saints: A Gathering of Spirits. For a related post, visit On the Feast of All Souls at my Sanctuary of Women blog.

For a reflection on the gospel lection (Matthew 25.1-13) for November 6, click the image or title below:

Midnight Oil

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

Posted in art, mystery, Ordinary Time, sacred time | 3 Comments »

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