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Eucharist: Bless - Heaven In Ordinary

Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend to heaven, You are there; If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there. If I take the wings of the dawn, If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea, Even there Your hand will lead me, And Your right hand will lay hold of me. If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, And the light around me will be night,” Even the darkness is not dark to You, And the night is as bright as the day Darkness and light are alike to You.  Psalm 139:7-12

God is here! It’s one of the greatest and most faith-filled statements we can make. And a quest for a vision that might take a lifetime to acheive; learning to see the God who is in all things, who fills the world with vibrant life - this is the journey of faith.

The English Poet and Mystic William Blake talked about that vision in these terms

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 
And Eternity in an hour.”

This is the gift of seeing the blessing in the everyday, heaven in the ordinary. It’s the glimpse of God we get when we are open the breath of the Spirit in the every day.  This is beautifully summed up in Mary Oliver’s poem which reminds us that there is nothing more important than being, and learning to discern the divine in the moment, the blessing of the ordinary

 

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
                                                                 Mary Oliver

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