Sacred Sunday Ordinariness!
~Jalal ad-Din Rumi
It was a quiet morning. I preached in a beautiful country church on the outskirts of a town approximately an hour away from my home. The sun was bright and the air was so warm it felt suffocating to breath without the air conditioner on full force.
As I drove along, the sights of the world around me began to awaken my Spirit. Old stone fences once put up by slaves years ago, still lined the road. The fields inside the black fences were covered in lush green grass. The blacks and browns of the horses scattered throughout dotted the fields. Small colts with shaky legs romped around, jumping and nudging each other.
As my trip took me further into farm country, the horse fields turned into rows of corn reaching up to the sky.
I drove through small towns that were dotted with church steeples and down town squares that reminded me of Andy Griffin from Mayberry. The closer I got to the church, the fewer houses dotted the landscape. Flat horse and corn fields turned into rolling waves of hills. Old oaks reached up to the sky and the horizon was dotted with tin roof barns of old barns that glistened in the early morning light. I turned on my ipod and I admired the palate in front of my eyes.
All along the windy journey to the church, the road was dotted with tall white Queen Anne's Lace and some kind of purple flowers that grew everywhere. As it continued the line from color purple flashed through my head, "it must piss God off for folks to walk through a field of purple flowers and not notice."
There was something sacred about my morning adventure. While just an ordinary drive, I found my Spirit beginning to unfold--to open up--if you will--almost like a fill-up of sorts before I got to the church.
The church sat up on top of a hill just barely off the road. It was tall brick with a large steeple and wooden doors. The sides were dotted with spectacular stained glass windows. A large wrought iron fence surrounded the grounds and ancient graves dotted the rolling hills of the church yard. I stood there watching people greet each other and head inside.
As I gathered my robe and sermon, my mind flashed and I realized that the beauty of the world around had already filled my weary spirit and I felt full and fresh and excited about
getting to preach.
The hymns that were sang were reminiscent of my childhood Baptist days and the people were warm and welcoming---reminded me of the days when church was the social time for the week and people stood on the steps catching up on the local gossip---because in that time and place--there was no texting or instant messaging or cell phoning . While I had preached there once before, I left feeling as if I had known them my whole life.
I don't always understand the Mystery of this thing I call God.
I try to run from IT at times, try to say IT is a figment of my imagination, say I no longer believe in the church and then...
suddenly when I least expect, I lean full faced into the Holy wonder and my cup overflows with joy. Bearing the Mystery of God, or, preaching as many call it completes me and leaves me feeling fully alive and emerged in the wonder of Sacredness.
I don't understand it any more than I understand Faith or God's Presence, but I know when the ordinary elements of the world capture my attention, the flames of the Spirit grabs hold of me and I fall full-faced into the Wonder of IT.
Just another ordinary drive,
ordinary people,
an ordinary country church,
plain old weeds along the side of the road...
just plain old ordinary stuff
that somehow
on this day
in this time....
offered me a bit of insight into Sacredness.
On this lazy Sunday afternoon,
I am thankful to the Universe,
for my ordinary adventure.
Yes, Sister Rachel, the bug has bitten me again!!!!
you know what I mean!
Blessings to all of you,
may each of you
find the wonder and amazement
at your ordinary world
and
may the Sacred rise up to Greet You!
Happy Sunday and Hugs!!!
It was a quiet morning. I preached in a beautiful country church on the outskirts of a town approximately an hour away from my home. The sun was bright and the air was so warm it felt suffocating to breath without the air conditioner on full force.
As I drove along, the sights of the world around me began to awaken my Spirit. Old stone fences once put up by slaves years ago, still lined the road. The fields inside the black fences were covered in lush green grass. The blacks and browns of the horses scattered throughout dotted the fields. Small colts with shaky legs romped around, jumping and nudging each other.
As my trip took me further into farm country, the horse fields turned into rows of corn reaching up to the sky.
I drove through small towns that were dotted with church steeples and down town squares that reminded me of Andy Griffin from Mayberry. The closer I got to the church, the fewer houses dotted the landscape. Flat horse and corn fields turned into rolling waves of hills. Old oaks reached up to the sky and the horizon was dotted with tin roof barns of old barns that glistened in the early morning light. I turned on my ipod and I admired the palate in front of my eyes.
All along the windy journey to the church, the road was dotted with tall white Queen Anne's Lace and some kind of purple flowers that grew everywhere. As it continued the line from color purple flashed through my head, "it must piss God off for folks to walk through a field of purple flowers and not notice."
There was something sacred about my morning adventure. While just an ordinary drive, I found my Spirit beginning to unfold--to open up--if you will--almost like a fill-up of sorts before I got to the church.
The church sat up on top of a hill just barely off the road. It was tall brick with a large steeple and wooden doors. The sides were dotted with spectacular stained glass windows. A large wrought iron fence surrounded the grounds and ancient graves dotted the rolling hills of the church yard. I stood there watching people greet each other and head inside.
As I gathered my robe and sermon, my mind flashed and I realized that the beauty of the world around had already filled my weary spirit and I felt full and fresh and excited about
getting to preach.
The hymns that were sang were reminiscent of my childhood Baptist days and the people were warm and welcoming---reminded me of the days when church was the social time for the week and people stood on the steps catching up on the local gossip---because in that time and place--there was no texting or instant messaging or cell phoning . While I had preached there once before, I left feeling as if I had known them my whole life.
I don't always understand the Mystery of this thing I call God.
I try to run from IT at times, try to say IT is a figment of my imagination, say I no longer believe in the church and then...
suddenly when I least expect, I lean full faced into the Holy wonder and my cup overflows with joy. Bearing the Mystery of God, or, preaching as many call it completes me and leaves me feeling fully alive and emerged in the wonder of Sacredness.
I don't understand it any more than I understand Faith or God's Presence, but I know when the ordinary elements of the world capture my attention, the flames of the Spirit grabs hold of me and I fall full-faced into the Wonder of IT.
Just another ordinary drive,
ordinary people,
an ordinary country church,
plain old weeds along the side of the road...
just plain old ordinary stuff
that somehow
on this day
in this time....
offered me a bit of insight into Sacredness.
On this lazy Sunday afternoon,
I am thankful to the Universe,
for my ordinary adventure.
Yes, Sister Rachel, the bug has bitten me again!!!!
you know what I mean!
Blessings to all of you,
may each of you
find the wonder and amazement
at your ordinary world
and
may the Sacred rise up to Greet You!
Happy Sunday and Hugs!!!
Labels: Sunday reflection
posted by pleemiller @ 6:03 PM
2 Comments
2 Comments:
I was there with you as you described everything - beautiful! And thank you for the journey! I'm so glad you had a great morning. Sounds like things are stirring within! What was the first Andy Griffith again?
Kerri...
you need to ask Grandpa about that one....I don't remember. something with thelma loo I believe!
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