Kneeling down on red velvet cushions.

Worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness; let the whole earth tremble before Him. Psalm 96:9

Take time to be holy, speak oft with thy Lord;

Abide in Him always, and feed on His Word.

Make friends of God’s children, help those who are weak,

Forgetting in nothing His blessing to seek.

Take time to be holy, the world rushes on;

Spend much time in secret with Jesus alone.

By looking to Jesus, like Him thou shalt be;

Thy friends in thy conduct His likeness shall see.

Take time to be holy, let Him be thy Guide;

And run not before Him, whatever betide.

In joy or in sorrow, still follow the Lord,

And, looking to Jesus, still trust in His Word.

Take time to be holy, be calm in thy soul,

Each thought and each motive beneath His control.

Thus led by His Spirit to fountains of love,

Thou soon shalt be fitted for service above. –William Longstaff

Prince Chapel has been preparing for the visit of the Presiding Bishop for weeks now. Planning menus and pressing robes and extending a special invitation to Mayor Rothchild and practicing over and over the bishop’s favorite hymn, Take Time to Be Holy. Somehow I had become the expert, because I smiled in recognition as the first few familiar piano chords were tentatively struck. So again and again I affirmed that they were exactly right as voices soared to the ceiling.

Holy.

Set apart from the madding crowd.

Abide in Him always.

Like Him I shall be.

Run not before Him.

Calm in my soul.

May it be so dear Lord.

Holy.

Chicken buses piled high trundle up the mountain pass

Worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness; let the whole earth tremble before him. Psalm 96:9

One aspect of holiness is that of set apartness. With no entanglements. Without a divided heart.

Jesus taught us, saying: ‘No one who prefers father or mother to me is worthy of me. No one who prefers son or daughter to me is worthy of me. Anyone who does not take his cross and follow in my footsteps is not worthy of me. Anyone who finds his life will lose it; anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it. Matthew 10:37–39

It is kind of eerie that just this moment, as I was considering the whisper of Quetzaltenango, well, protesting the whisper with images of momma and Heather and Everette and maybe even Andrea that this would be my lectio divina verse. And as I searched Facebook for glimpses of those blond curls, I noticed a story in my little Camino blog that I sometimes read about a Jewish pagan with dreadlocks who had happened into a mass along the road. Near the end of mass the nuns announced they made a token for the pilgrims to be passed out at the blessing. The main priest invited each of us and laid hands on out foreheads and gave a blessing. As I moved to the right the nuns gave me the handmade gift. It was a paper Star of David. What a Mitzvah.

How unsearchable His judgments, and His paths beyond tracing out.

And Xela is a mixture of roses twisted around unfinished cement block walls. There is some pounding eurotechno racket in the background just as the cloudy skies are starting to brighten with the early dawn. The brightly wrapped Mayans make me feel positively Entish wandering the streets under the smoking volcanoes. Motorcycles roar down the ever so narrow cobbled stones.

Is this a continuation of that path? As I scan over the many voices who have spoken to me this month, there is a pattern, a pattern language, forming under the speckled swaying light.

And I opened up Letters to Malcolm where the folded up paper marked my spot: Intercourse between God and man occurs at particular moments for the man, but not for God. If there is–as the very concept of prayer presupposes–an adaption between the free actions of men in prayer and the course of events, this adaption is from the beginning inherent in the great single creative act.

Glory in His holy Name; let the hearts of those who seek the LORD rejoice. Psalm 105:3