Let me re-phrase that:
It's amazing, what's right in front of me, all the time, and yet, I don't see it.
This is particularly true for me in terms of the objects, decor, and general place-ness of things. Some things strike me powerfully; those I notice. Example: I adore the ceiling of Union Presbyterian Church, the church I serve as pastor. It is the perfect "nave," in that it truly looks as if someone had taken an old sailing ship and inverted it for the purposes of creating a sanctuary ceiling. I noticed it the first time I stood in the sanctuary, fresh out of seminary, as the gathered Presbytery heard my statement of faith and examined me for ordination. That was more than 15 years ago. It still gives me joy each and every time I look at it.
But it took me until two years ago to realize that the reredos in the church I serve forms a cross. I had simply never noticed. (To be fair, I sit and stand with my back to it every Sunday, so I haven't had the opportunity.... oh, never mind. I an not particularly visually observant. I am more tuned in to how things feel, and how they make me feel. I can tell you our sanctuary feels to me exactly like what its name implies: a place that is at once holy and safe. Sanctuary.
For the past 16 days I've been reading/ praying the Lenten offerings for Morning Prayer in the Presbyterian Church (USA) Book of Common Worship. And each day I've read the opening sentences of scripture. And this one didn't "strike" me until today... though I've seen it, and, allegedly, read it each day:
Show me your way, O Lord,that I may follow in your truth.
Teach me to revere your name,
and my whole heart will praise you.
~Psalm 86:11-12
(Tr.: Evangelical Lutheran Church in America)
The prayers I'm praying each day are chosen for Lent, a time when Christians are called back, when God asks of us (and Jesus asks of us) to turn back to God. I think the assumption that we've turned away is a reasonable one: That's the nature of the human. While there's a very strong phrase for it, made popular by CalvinISTS, the general gist of it is original sin.
I wasn't always a fan. I really resisted the notion that, because an ancient set of the zillionth great-grandparents of all humanity disobeyed God, that we all inherited the same tendency. (Jews don't read the story that way, by the way.... and scripture supports their interpretation more than it does ours: God is said to visit the sins of the parents on the "third and fourth generation," but the blessings of righteousness on the thousandth generation. See Exodus 20:5-6; Exodus 4:6-7; Deuteronomy 5:9-10; Jeremiah 32:18)
It took one month of becoming a mother to my firstborn to disabuse me of that notion. Not because of my child--he was perfect, in every way. But I was not. My brokenness and selfishness brought me up short, and helped me to reconsider my position, and to understand that there was some wisdom there.
This is the nature of the human.
So, these two verses seem to me the absolutely perfect eye-opener for a Christian, not just in Lent, but every day.
I think we ought to let it, literally, be the thing that opens our eyes, and make it the first thing we see, the first thing we pray, the first thing we read, mark, and inwardly digest for the day ahead.
Show us your way, O God, that we may follow the truth.
Teach us to revere your name, that our whole heart might praise you.
And we will praise you, not only with our heart, but with our lives.
Amen.
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