Wednesday, 4 June 2008

At the breast, and on the knee

My friend “Pru” recently wrote a marvellous meditation on Psalm 131

You may read it at:


http://pru-meditations.blogspot.com/



And another blogger (whom I do not know), also wrote about this Psalm:

http://anglocatontheprowl.blogspot.com/ (see entry for May 28th)


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Here is the text of Psalm 131 from the Book of Common Prayer


Psalm 131 Domine, non est
1
O LORD, I am not proud; *
I have no haughty looks.
2
I do not occupy myself with great matters, *
or with things that are too hard for me.
3
But I still my soul and make it quiet,
like a child upon its mother's breast; *
my soul is quieted within me.
4
O Israel, wait upon the LORD, *
from this time forth for evermore.


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“I do not occupy myself with great matters, or with things that are to hard for me”



But of course I do! I fret and fume about the ghastly regime in Washington, D.C.

I worry
about the General Election, (next November), hoping that Senator Obama will best Senator McClain, and that Senator Clinton will play an important role in the next administration. (But I have but one vote).

I fret about the future of the Episcopal Church, hoping that it will not veer to the right.

I am all too concerned
about the future of the Anglican Communion, fearing that it will be taken over by the evangelicals.

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change”.


When I live into that prayer, I do not occupy myself with great matters. Instead, I rejoice in the little things:

My cat Adelaide, racing all over the house with a catnip drenched toy mouse, kicking it around with a all the skill of a great soccer player, and then carrying it in her mouth as if it were her kitten.

The other cat, Ada, nuzzling me through the night so that I would stroke her head and chin.

The 8/9 year old boy
who walked up to my local “Publix” Supermarket with his Mum; and vaulted a fence with the greatest of ease.

The immigrants
who are working so hard to replace our mansards. Some of them speak little English, but they know the word “beer”. So sometimes I buy a 12 pack for them to drink at the end of the day. I drive past them, saying “Beer tonight”.

Then I put the 12 pack in my fridge, and grin from ear to ear when they come to my front door at the end of their work day - with broad smiles on their faces as they anticipate the beer (about one can per person). They leave, always calling out “thank you man!”

(I should preach a sermon on “Beer: The Sacrament of Hospitality”)


Of course I occupy myself with great matters.



But I am happiest when I am a babe at Mother G- d’s breast; or a child on
Mother G-d’s knee.

2 comments:

  1. A wonderful meditation on a beautiful psalm--and thanks for the mention!

    I'm particularly taken by your reference to your cats--mine are a perpretual source of joy, and often lift me into out of the worries that I cannot control (such as McCain as President, although I do have a vote on it).

    Every good wish.

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  2. "Beer: The Sacrament of Hospitality." I like that.

    I was two blocks past a man who was homeless last week before I realized I had a loaf of bread in my bag that I could have given him. I still regret not going back and giving him the bread.

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