Take the veil from our eyes.

Pero alégrense los justos, regocíjense delante de Dios;
sí, que rebosen de alegría.
Cantad a Dios, cantad alabanzas a su nombre;
abrid paso al que cabalga por los desiertos,
cuyo nombre es el Señor^; regocijaos delante de El.

Padre de los huérfanos y defensor de las viudas
es Dios en su santa morada. Salmo 68:3-5

But let the righteous be glad and rejoice before God; let them be merry and joyful. Sing to God, sing praises to his Name; exalt Him who rides upon the heavens; YAHWEH is His Name, rejoice before Him! Father of orphans, defender of widows; God in His holy habitation! Psalm 68:3-5

And to the centurion Jesus said, ‘Go back, then; let this be done for you, as your faith demands.’ And the servant was cured at that moment. Matthew 8:13

The hymn that I prayed this morning, as I knelt in the Benedictine monastery, described God as being as silent as light.

Immortal, invisible, God only wise,
In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
Most blessèd, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, Thy great Name we praise.

Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light,
Nor wanting, nor wasting, Thou rulest in might;
Thy justice, like mountains, high soaring above
Thy clouds, which are fountains of goodness and love.

And last night, as Alan and I shared an odd sort of mushroom, chicken and kale quiche with an old student of mine, she answered the question as to whether the struggles and pain and death in her life had weakened her faith, with a clear, strong negative. It was all that she had left.

And it is when I shift my heart and mind to the material that my joy wavers. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and evidence of things unseen, and it was the faith of the centurion that caught Jesus by surprise, and He marveled.

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be your Name. May your kingdom come, and your will be done, on earth as in heaven. 

And may I live today merry and joyful in the silent light.