Bring the tender tale true of the Pelican Bathe me, Jesu Lord, in what thy bosom ran–

We have heard with our ears, O God, our forefathers have told us, the deeds you did in their days, in the days of old. Psalm 44:1

Seeing, touching, tasting are in thee deceived;

How says trusty hearing? That shall be believed;

What God’s Son has told me, take for true I do;

Truth himself speaks truly or there’s nothing true.

I am not like Thomas, wounds I cannot see,

But can plainly call thee God and Lord as he:

This faith each day deeper be my holding of,

Truly make me harder hope and dearer love. –St. Thomas Aquinas/Gerard Manley Hopkins

Set me free, O God, from the bondage of my sins, and give me the liberty of that abundant life which you have made known to me in your Son our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

This is why it is called faith, faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. And since I am in this season of allusions, I read about the pelican reference in Aquinas’ poem. It comes from an ancient legend of famine when a mother pelican wounded herself, striking her breast with the beak to feed her young with her blood. Christians took this imagery of perfect charity as their own, and odd little pelican references permeate the Middle Ages and Renaissance writing and arts. In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Laertes declares his love for his father, "To his good friends thus wide, I’ll ope my arms / And, like the kind, life-rendering pelican / Repast them with my blood."

The point being two-fold: the cloud of witnesses throughout the ages, pressing into the unseen in faith, walking before us through the days of clutter with courage and fixed eyes, and secondly, once again a vivid reminder of the Savior who would stop at nothing to break the bonds of sin and restore beloved children to the abundant life through His sweet blood sacrifice.

Truly make me harder hope and dearer love.

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. 

Hungry I come to You

“Have faith in God,” replied Jesus to them. “I tell you that if anyone should say to this hill, ‘Get up and throw yourself into the sea’, and without any doubt in his heart believe that what he says will happen, then it will happen! That is why I tell you, whatever you pray about and ask for, believe that you have received it and it will be yours. And whenever you stand praying, you must forgive anything that you are holding against anyone else, and your Heavenly Father will forgive you your sins.” Mark 11:22-26

Sigh. Somehow these verses are always a little discouraging to me, something I would rather just skip over. When of course, it seems like this particular declarative statement should be a huge hope and happiness moment. Because yes, sometimes the hills hop into the sea. And yet. Sometimes they don’t. And rather it being about Him, my thinking slides into me, and am I saying or thinking the right words? Enough times? Long enough? And my thoughts start spinning about doubt in my heart, or timing, or fasting, or acting on it being received or… and the hope and happiness thing evaporates.

And it was not yet time for figs anyway. What’s with that?

But actually I hadn’t ever particularly noticed the close proximity of the forgiveness item. As in connected with a coordinating conjunction close. And. And whenever (yes, every time) you stand praying you must forgive anything (yes, anything) that you are holding against anyone (yes, anyone) else. And (then) the Heavenly Father will forgive you. Me. With the same mercy I offer to others, it will be shown.

And well, this is much more important than moving mountains. Really.

And maybe that is the believe statement here. We don’t live out our faith by making mountains move, rather, it is more about living out release. If indeed I believe in a God of mercy and forgiveness and wisdom and justice and glory and restoration then indeed forgiveness takes on a whole new light. His love. It’s all about Him and not about me. Once again.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.

Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Puts up with anything,

Trusts God always,

Always looks for the best,

Never looks back,

But keeps going to the end. The Message

And just sort of thinking and remembering the leaves that I have seen shrivel at a single word, my eyes were never on the fig tree. Or the hill. Really the prayers just seemed to well up out of me from within, the Spirit Himself pleading in yearnings that can find no words.

Selah..