We’re
almost to the end of Epiphany as a season. Two more days—tomorrow is Fat Tuesday,
our last chance to revel in delight (or in the Light).
The liturgical season is a calendar of sacred times which rarely line up neatly with the times our souls go through. Instead, liturgical seasons cycle us through practice times, over and over and over, so that when our souls do enter their seasons of discovery and loss, longing and learning, waiting and finding, we know something of their landscape.
The liturgical season is a calendar of sacred times which rarely line up neatly with the times our souls go through. Instead, liturgical seasons cycle us through practice times, over and over and over, so that when our souls do enter their seasons of discovery and loss, longing and learning, waiting and finding, we know something of their landscape.
There
are 46 days in Lent, the darkest, hardest ‘practice’ season.
But we’re not there yet. We’ve still got time to party like it’s 1999. I quoted Richard Rohr last week; he was talking about the transformation of our experience of God as we grow into our relationship with God:
But we’re not there yet. We’ve still got time to party like it’s 1999. I quoted Richard Rohr last week; he was talking about the transformation of our experience of God as we grow into our relationship with God:
“God
becomes more a verb than a noun, more a process than a conclusion, more an
experience than a dogma, more a personal relationship than an idea. There is
Someone dancing with you, and you are not afraid of making mistakes.”
Every child has known God,
Not
the God of names,
Not
the God of don’ts,
Not
the God who never
does anything weird.
does anything weird.
But
the God who knows
only 4 words, and...
keeps repeating them:
only 4 words, and...
keeps repeating them:
“Come
Dance with Me.
Come. Dance!”
-Hafiz
Come. Dance!”
-Hafiz
