How lovely is your dwelling place,
Lord, God of hosts….
They are happy who dwell in your house,
for ever singing your praise.
They are happy, whose strength is in you,
in whose hearts are the roads to Zion.
As they go through the Bitter Valley,
they make it a place of springs…
From Psalm 84
As I read the words above, as I prayed them this morning as part of the Morning Prayer, they seemed to have a certain power over me. They inspired in me a sacred vision—a vision of what could be.
The psalmist tells of a particular kind of happiness; it is a well-being that accompanies the state of mind and state of heart of the one who chooses to make the abode of the Most High his or her dwelling.
Too often, it seems, this journey leads through a bitter valley. Who among us has not felt the sorrows that our times, unlike any other before, have the power to tell? Yet we are to be the ones who make this Vale of Tears into a place springing with an abundance of life and refreshing waters.
Indeed I am inspired to meet life with the attitude of one who walks in God's favor—even the darkest and most unpromising possibilities for a future cannot shake the one in whom there is faith, even the one who has hope, the one who has been given the gift of courage too. For all of these I still pray, for I still see with my eyes and frequently, realistically, I am tempted to doubt.
The Canticle from Isaiah sings the familiar refrain:
They shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks
Putting together the Psalm and the Canticle gives rise to the vision. They inspire us to look ahead to a future of peace in a world where we take the gift of knowledge, even our vast technologies, and apply them to making a simple world where we work the ground and share with each other; a world where we no longer pollute nor are we polluted by the forces of destruction. We instead look to a world in which there is plenty, a place of healing, a place of patience, of acceptance, of fortitude, and wisdom. We look to a world where we can live and die in dignity—ever looking to eternal life.
Sure, it's late in the day for me to reflect on the Morning Prayer but evening always tells of the coming dawn, of a morning still bright with hope.
Deacon Dan, if you have time, go and listen to the song I posted on June 11th. We must have been experiencing a little wave of longing to abide in the shelter of the Most High!
Posted by: Gabrielle | June 25, 2008 at 11:27 AM