Blessing in the Round

This blessing
cannot help it;
it’s the way
it was designed.

Lay it down
and it rises again.

Release it
and it returns.

Give it away
and it makes a path
back to you.

There is no explaining
how it delights
in reappearing
when you have ceased
to hold it,
no hiding the sly smile
it wears
when it shows up
at your door,
no mistaking the wonder
when it circles back around
just at the moment
you thought you had
spent it completely,
had poured it out
with abandon
where you saw
the deepest thirst for it,
had put it entirely
in the hands
of those desperate
in their hunger.

But here it is,
the perfect circle of it
pressing into your hand
that curls around it
and then lets go,
receiving
and releasing
and receiving again
like the breath
that does not belong to us
but sets us in motion.

Reflection for the Second Sunday in Lent (March 4, 2012)

This reflection, by Jan Richardson, is part of the series “Teach Me Your Paths: A Pilgrimage into Lent.” If you’re new to the series, visit the first post, Teach Me Your Paths: Entering Lent, to pick it up from the beginning.

Image above and on front-page mastheads: "For The Sake Of The Gospel," by Jan Richardson.

Words above by Jan Richardson.

Remain in me, as I remain in you. (John 15:4)

Shadow box with bittersweet vine, thorns, feather, and mesh.

By Kathy Bozzuti-Jones

Seen in the ECVA exhibition: "Jesus Our Brother"

Blessing the Body

This blessing takes
one look at you
and all it can say is
holy.

Holy hands.
Holy face.
Holy feet.
Holy everything
in between.

Holy even in pain.
Holy even when weary.
In brokenness, holy.
In shame, holy still.

Holy in delight.
Holy in distress.
Holy when being born.
Holy when we lay it down
at the hour of our death.

So, friend,
open your eyes
(holy eyes).
For one moment
see what this blessing sees,
this blessing that knows
how you have been formed
and knit together
in wonder and
in love.

Welcome this blessing
that folds its hands
in prayer
when it meets you;
receive this blessing
that wants to kneel
in reverence
before you:
you who are
temple,
sanctuary,
home for God
in this world.

Reflection for the Third Sunday in Lent (March 11, 2012)

This reflection, by Jan Richardson, is part of the series “Teach Me Your Paths: A Pilgrimage into Lent.” If you’re new to the series, visit the first post, Teach Me Your Paths: Entering Lent, to pick it up from the beginning.

Image above and on front-page mastheads: "The Temple of His Body," by Jan Richardson.

Words above by Jan Richardson.

Through the window of a small Honduran Episcopal church is a clothesline in the yard of the home next door. The absolutely non-sacred placement is what struck me. Here God is where man is, there is no set-apart place for Him. Poverty allows little separateness.

Image above (and on front-page mastheads): "Christ And The Laundry" by Barbara Desrosiers.

Seen in the ECVA exhibition: "Jesus Our Brother"

Words above by Barbara Desrosiers.