Hunting for Holy

The Kingdom of God is like early morning church. As I struggle to keep my eyes open, the darkness of night slowly melts into the grey of early morning. I try to remain present, despite the grogginess that still plagues my mind and body-- then the choir begins. The subtle song streams through my windows until suddenly it becomes a cacophony of praise to the Divine.  I sit up in my bed, fully alert, cuddled under my cozy duvet, and listen to the choir singing praises for the new day from their tree branches. The tears stream down my cheeks; the song brings my heart to life, lighting the spiritual darkness hidden deep inside.Formal worship has been incredibly difficult for me in this season of life. I am not entirely sure why I have struggled to worship within the walls of the church but I am finding worship elsewhere, seeking it out and letting it come find me. I believe there are seasons of life, seasons that ebb and flow us through each year, each month, each day. This season has taken me out of the walls of the church and into the sanctuary that is found all around me. In an effort to reconnect with God I have tried to be present in this massive, stretching sanctuary to really see the world around me. I have been engaging all my senses; listening, seeing, tasting, touching, and smelling the holy in our midst.Above, you will find one of my favorite parable seeds from my Preaching class. My early Sunday morning worship was found in my bed, waking to a gorgeous symphony that streamed in through my open windows. This practice of Parable seeds challenged me to look at the world and life around me, to search in my everyday routine and seemingly mundane life and discover the treasure of the  Kingdom of God . As I became and am continuing to become healthier, my vision has expanded to include more of the Divine's work in the everyday going ons of life.I am hunting for holy--looking for God's hand at work in this scary, violent, and too often dark world. The thing is, I am learning that holy is everywhere, even in the darkness, and it is all around us. Holy can be tasted, seen, touched, smelled, heard, and experienced but we must be willing to fully participate, to allow holy to meet us exactly where we are, to stop, and let it swallow us up.Recently I was reminded of Moses  in this exact context of stopping to encounter the holy in Barbara Brow Taylor's An Altar in the World. Taylor points out that Moses sees out of the corner of his eye a burning bush, but instead of simply walking past, he stops and turns to look at it, and God reveals Godself right then and there (Taylor, An Altar in the World, pp. 24-25). "When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, 'Moses, Moses!' And he said, 'Here i am.' Then God said, 'Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.'" (Exodus 3:4-5).Moses had to stop and allow his curiosity to win in order to encounter the holy.A few weekends ago, I made an unexpected trip to Charleston and holy met me. I was able to laugh, eat, rest, love, and be with my people, in particular one very special human (Will). On Sunday morning Will and I went grocery shopping for breakfast foods, we strolled up and down the aisles with Starbucks cups in hand and I felt a deep sense of peace and sheer presence. As we gathered up our items and headed back to cook our meal, I stood in the kitchen in awe at the gift of holiness that was unfolding. I recently shared my deep call to the table, to eating, cooking, feeding, and breaking bread with people--this is what that call looks like embodied. We stood side by side, preparing different aspects of the meal--I cut the crusty sour dough bread, popped it in the toaster, then buttered the toast while Will scrambled eggs and fried bacon. Our hands were involved, our hearts, our bodies--we were present, without a doubt--one of the holiest things. Once we finished our cooking, we took our meal outside, sat in the sunshine, and broke bread.Holy. Something set apart by God for God's use. This time, space, and these moments were holy--things set apart by God for God's use. A glimmer of the Divine can always be revealed to me if I slow myself down long enough to look, listen, taste, smell, touch, and simply be. Those deeply sacred times, the times that are forever etched on my mind and heart are often those incredibly mundane daily livings.Holy: the fruit basket on my coffee table over flowing with apples, bananas, mandarins, lemons and limes; Holy: crisp, starched, nearly threadbare sheets that have wrapped around and comforted countless human bodies; Holy: a front porch full of rocking chairs; Holy: writing letters, addressing envelopes, placing stamps in the upper right hand corner, dropping them in the mail; Holy: sipping tea in my pajamas, sitting in my comfy chair, listening to the birds chirping; Holy: a stead heartbeat beneath my hand; Holy: laughter; Holy: love.I wonder what incredibly gorgeous thing this might reveal to us about God--a God who reveals Godself in the midst of the most seemingly ordinary occurrences.My challenge to each one of you is that you hunt for the holy in your lives. Perhaps try and write a short parable seed (Begin with "The Kingdom of God is like...) and record whatever obscure, obvious, mundane, extraordinary thing that points you to God's Kingdom.Peace, Joy, Blessings, and all my Love,Margaret