Monthly Archives: July 2014

Chapel Street

It’s hard to find, but it’s well travelled, linking Main street to Marion road. It’s only two hundred yards long, and most people think it’s part of Marion road. Its sign is at the bottom of the hill, rarely given a glance by the thousands that pass it daily. Chapel as a street in its own right has virtually disappeared, overtaken by the two roads it connects.

There’s no chapel on Chapel, and I’m not sure how many houses there are. Only two are certain – the others are on its corners, facing High street or Main. Four driveways open onto Chapel, so perhaps there are four with a Chapel address. It hardly matters, except for mail delivery and voter registration. Yet Chapel street remains its own entity. A steep hill between Main and High, turning into Marion road at the light.

I don’t know what the kids walking home from school think about Chapel street, or the drivers heading to work. It’s a means to another end for most, a destination for only a few who live or visit its houses. And yet, it’s named a house of prayer. At some point, Chapel was sacred ground, a place to come into God’s presence, a refuge. When I walk up the hill, I wonder how often I’ve marched straight across sacred ground without a thought or a pause. When I walk down the hill, God’s beloved are before me, in their cars and on their feet. How often do I see them without really seeing them?

How often? That’s a sacred question. I guess there still is a chapel on Chapel.

 

Question: Does your town have a sacred/chapel street?

Storm Damage

Hurricane Arthur blew through town yesterday, bringing a lot of rain and some high winds. It came up the coast right after storms blew in from the west. Fortunately, the sun was shining in a cloudless sky by the time I took my walk this morning. The only signs of yesterday’s storms in my yard were a couple of bent hollyhocks and corn stocks. High and Main streets had a few puddles in the road and some small branches on lawns – nothing remarkable. It could have been so much worse.

Only one tree on High street lost a huge limb. I didn’t notice it at first because it hadn’t fallen all the way to the ground. I saw it because of the color difference between the outside and inside parts of the tree – the light inner wood showed up against the ivy covered bark. The break wasn’t a clean split, but something resembling the damage in termite infested wood. Arthur wasn’t strong enough to damage healthy trees, but was enough to fracture this one. The true damage came from ivy; the tree is covered in it, from ground to top, enclosing the trunk and all the limbs. Over many years, the tree died as the ivy sent its roots into the wood. There is no living tree beneath the ivy now. Only the strength of the ivy keeps the tree upright and intact – short one branch, thanks to Arthur. It’s just a matter of time before the tree comes down, falling under the weight of the ivy or cut down by a tree surgeon. Either way, High street is poorer for its death.

Appearances can be deceiving. Internal damage, spiritual destruction, isn’t always visible. Sometimes it’s covered in vitality, giving every appearance of health while slowly killing true life. Outer growth can come from a robust inner life, deeply rooted and strong; it can also be something that causes and masks damage, slowly draining the spirit until there is nothing left but a facade. It’s only when a storm comes that the truth is revealed.

There’s ivy growing in my yard. Like many things, it’s wonderful in small amounts but deadly if allowed to take over. I keep an eye on it and spend a lot of time cutting it back when necessary. The tree on High street and my own yard remind me to keep an eye on my inner life as well as what thrives on the surface. Storms blow through, and the truth is revealed: will it be life or death?

Prayer for the Acceptance of God’s Will: Final Meditation

Teach me how to pray. Pray thou thyself in me.   Amen.

This prayer ends with words very similar to “Prayer at the Beginning of the Day,” also by Philaret of Moscow. Since I already wrote something, I asked my friend, Bill Albritton, if he’d do the honors…

In Mere Christianity old friend C.S. Lewis writes:

“An ordinary simple Christian kneels down to say his prayers. He is trying to get in touch with God…God is the thing to which he is praying – the goal he is trying to reach. God is also the thing which is pushing him on – the motive power. God is also the road or bridge along which he is being pushed to that goal. So that the whole threefold life of the three-personal Being is actually going on in that ordinary little bedroom where an ordinary man is saying his prayers.”( Lewis, C.S.; Mere Christianity, New York: Touchstone; Simon & Schuster, 1996)

God praying in us, God praying on our behalf, God listening to our praying. Yet at the same time, we remain ourselves – not dissolved into God, but very much ourselves in our praying. Perhaps that’s what prayer really is: God being God, we being who we are, held by love in time and space.    Amen.

Prayer for the Acceptance of God’s Will: Line Thirteen

I have no other desire than to fulfil thy will.

 On a deep level, this is the truth of my life. These are the words, this is the path, leading to the reign of God here and now. I am myself most truly when I am God’s most willingly. I pray this line sincerely.

On a superficial level, this isn’t true. I have other things I want to have or do. I’d like to set the terms for what a holy life is. I’d really like the will of God to be a bigger version of my own will. I pray this line half-heartedly.

How do I reconcile my deep and superficial desires? Praying this line moves me to reframe the whole thing. I’m praying not for God’s will to be a bigger version of my own, but for my will to be a miniature version of God’s. In this time, this place, and my life, may my will be a clear reflection God’s will. I pray this line always.