JUST PRAISE

Psalm 19:1-5
© Hilary F. Marckx, all rights reserved

Just Praise

Just Praise

Bear with me here.
I’m doing the praise
thing again.
Don’t be bored
if I keep coming back to it.
It is a large part of the
Christian Tradition.
I know
that there are evils in the world.
I know
that pain and suffering
and loss and grief
are integral parts
of our everyday lives.
I know.
I also know
that the Great Commission
given the church by Jesus
is to minister
and to bring
others into the Christian Community.
I know.
But who the heck
wants to be
a part of a community
of mopers,
of gloomy Sad Sacks,
of whiners?
I ask, who?
Here’s my suggestion,
get over the
notion of how
important and vital and essential
the burden of our work is,
and the depth of the spooge
you have to wade through
on a daily basis,
lighten up and find cracks
in the muck
where glory
shines through.
It’s there.
Glorious, glorious, glory.
It does take work
in the midst of all our life-stuff,
but it is findable.
AND you can do it.
All it takes is the will
to step beyond the beleaguerment.
All it takes is to keep an eye
out for some hint of a sparkle
in the spooge
that is rising over our waders.
It is like the flower
you look for in the wild lands
and never see,
but once you do see it,
it will be everywhere.

NO ZIPPED LIPS

Isaiah 62:1-5
© Hilary F. Marckx, all rights reserved

Not Zipped

Not Zipped

Love is something
we just cannot keep quiet.
Cannot hide.
In this reading,
it is God who can’t keep quiet.
But what about us when we
are confounded
with this amazing,
never giving up
or letting go
God-love?
If God cannot keep
God’s lips zipped,
how can we?
I can generally tell when someone
is freshly in love:
they are glowing and bubbling with joy.
And so it is
with the love of God:
truly encountered and believed
we cannot keep it quiet,
we cannot hide it,
it is no longer secret.
That love becomes smeared on our faces
like ice cream from a melting cone,
written with our body language
in-tell tale streaks like dribbling soup,
messy and gooey and
becoming part of our lives,
our way of speaking,
in loudly revealing ways.
God’s love becomes
how we sing,
how we think,
how we move through space.
And haven’t you felt this way?
You know what I mean
about this love,
this encounter
with the God of our hearts.
That feeling you cannot quite describe
because it is so profound,
so big,
so overwhelming
our knowledge of the word,
ineffable,
the unspeakable,
becomes complete.
AND yet,
and yet,
we still cannot hold it in.
No zipped lips here…

OUT OF THE MUD

Luke 3;15-22
© Hilary F. Marckx, all rights reserved

Out of the Mud

Out of the Mud

In her sermon,
‘’Sacramental Mud,’‘
Barbara Brown Taylor writes
of the Sacredness of Mud,
and tells how
when Jesus was baptized
he sank into the waters of the Jordan,
a very muddy river,
and then came out of that muddy water
to be affirmed by God.
I’ve heard it said that
when you sling mud
you just get yourself dirty.
But here, as with most of what Jesus
tried to teach us,
it never quite goes
like the old
saws,
adages,
sayings,
the common knowledge
we seem to live by.
Sometimes
the mud cleanses
and makes us holy.
This reading is more about affirmation
than it is about doctrine.
It is more about recognition
of holiness
in the messiness of our common,
everyday lives,
than about staying clean.
It is about seeing ourselves
for what we are
and seeing
the affirmation of God
in our messy,
muddy lives.

The Time Has Come For Love—