Some have observed, "Never again with a flood." But given P's collapse of creation and now this, with God's weapon of destruction hung up, the opportunity for a reboot given aims . . . for what? Us to do better? Hasn't happened. In that case, God to do something different? I should certainly hope so. Something we can't, 'cause the problem is us, and left to ourselves we can destroy the world, quickly or slowly. So God "RIPS OPEN" the Heavens and declares this rustic peasant to be God doing something different . . . decisively. Mark's depiction of Jesus in the wilderness recalls Jewish legend about the Human in the Garden at peace among the wild animals and with angels waiting upon the Human. We've got New Creation language, here. The reboot. Paul picks it up. Do we?
The words, "...just beyond the torn skies and threatening clouds come doves and rainbows" leave me with such hope during this season of Lent. I am filled with the promise that God does not forget God's promise and am encouraged enough to plow into the future with the Holy Spirit's guidance. Thank you! -jeannie
I confess that the myth of the flood has always been somewhat problematic for me. The image of God so fed up with God’s own created beings that He (!) determines to wipe them out, with the exception of one boatload of humans and animals—is hard to accept. Oh, I can easily imagine God’s looking on today’s world and our human activity in it and feeling abject depression and perhaps the desire to wipe the slate clean. But that isn’t a god I entrust myself to.
I’m in California now and as I went to church this morning, I got Flood Alert on my phone warning me of the approaching storm and its dangers. That alert put a context around hearing the story of the covenantal promise of God and the rainbow reminder. The promise that no flood would ever again threaten humanity is hard to trust given the latest scientific evidence of changes in the Atlantic Ocean and sea rise projections for the coming years. Not that I believe God is about to cause the flooding. No, I thought to myself, “Well, it could be that God is keeping that promise, but we humans have our own capacity to bring about a great flood.
In truth, I’m not one to read this myth as most deeply having to do with flooding, but it’s hard to hear the story and not reflect for just a bit on our own present reality. Perhaps those of us living on the coasts are more inclined to this than those who live inland.
I certainly agree that we best not get stuck in the ashes of death—but I know it’s important that we live in the truth of them. To me today, in the midst of a Flood Alert, the promise of new life is more vividly expressed in the final lines of the little Markan story. Jesus begins his preaching reminding us that the realm of God has come near, and if we can turn, and open ourselves to it, we’ll be entrusting ourselves to the Good News!
This morning I posted and Eileen pointed out what is an important typo. The last sentence should be ‘the baptized becomes the baptizer!
Thank you for pulling what seem like two things that are separate - ashes and rainbows - into a whole. Reminding me to look down and look up as part of a dance of seeing.
I visualize a dove and a rainbow intertwined, dazzling colour and brilliant white, infusing energy and strength and yes, wonder, into the struggling of the soul.
I also noted in the Mark reading, for the first time, Jesus does not return until John is arrested? Wow! A pathway open for a new voice ‘crying in the wilderness’. The baptized becoming the baptizer. The voice and action of new life
"After every wilderness comes life. God promised". This resonated with me after having my engagement broken off one month before the wedding (many years ago now) and the deaths of my parents within four months of each other in the year they would have celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary. There is life after the wildernesses in our life.
Thank you for pulling what seem like two things that are separate - ashes and rainbows - into a whole. Reminding me to look down and look up as part of a dance of seeing.
I visualize a dove and a rainbow intertwined, dazzling colour and brilliant white, infusing energy and strength and yes, wonder, into the struggling of the soul.
I also noted in the Mark reading, for the first time, Jesus does not return until John is arrested? Wow! A pathway open for a new voice ‘crying in the wilderness’. The baptized becoming the baptized. The voice and action of new life
Our county celebrated the life of an amazing 90 something man yesterday—a faithful Christian and incredible philanthropist in our community for the arts and for seeking solutions for the unhoused. As one of his sons said “he binged on life.” He was a force and he inspired us with his legacy of generosity and his practice of “leaning in” to listen and to effect change. Your meditation is a perfect follow up to my experience yesterday being inspired by the life of this dear man so central to the life and well-being of our entire county. Memento vitae! Yes!! Thank you for the wonderful Lenten poems as well.
Maybe I've overlooked it, but where is the passage from Mark pulling in the flood/rainbow story?
Some have observed, "Never again with a flood." But given P's collapse of creation and now this, with God's weapon of destruction hung up, the opportunity for a reboot given aims . . . for what? Us to do better? Hasn't happened. In that case, God to do something different? I should certainly hope so. Something we can't, 'cause the problem is us, and left to ourselves we can destroy the world, quickly or slowly. So God "RIPS OPEN" the Heavens and declares this rustic peasant to be God doing something different . . . decisively. Mark's depiction of Jesus in the wilderness recalls Jewish legend about the Human in the Garden at peace among the wild animals and with angels waiting upon the Human. We've got New Creation language, here. The reboot. Paul picks it up. Do we?
The words, "...just beyond the torn skies and threatening clouds come doves and rainbows" leave me with such hope during this season of Lent. I am filled with the promise that God does not forget God's promise and am encouraged enough to plow into the future with the Holy Spirit's guidance. Thank you! -jeannie
I am soooooooo glad I found out about DBB....at a Brian McLaren (spelling?) workshop at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Cle Hts, OH.
She is definitely "a lamp unto my feet" (and, I suspect, those of thousands of spiritually-leaning NONES)
Ann, your comment seemed poetic....not just theological, which is yet another reason it "spoke" to me.
Beautiful Diana, and the poem was spectacular.
Made me think of a question to ask Dom too! So thank you.
I confess that the myth of the flood has always been somewhat problematic for me. The image of God so fed up with God’s own created beings that He (!) determines to wipe them out, with the exception of one boatload of humans and animals—is hard to accept. Oh, I can easily imagine God’s looking on today’s world and our human activity in it and feeling abject depression and perhaps the desire to wipe the slate clean. But that isn’t a god I entrust myself to.
I’m in California now and as I went to church this morning, I got Flood Alert on my phone warning me of the approaching storm and its dangers. That alert put a context around hearing the story of the covenantal promise of God and the rainbow reminder. The promise that no flood would ever again threaten humanity is hard to trust given the latest scientific evidence of changes in the Atlantic Ocean and sea rise projections for the coming years. Not that I believe God is about to cause the flooding. No, I thought to myself, “Well, it could be that God is keeping that promise, but we humans have our own capacity to bring about a great flood.
In truth, I’m not one to read this myth as most deeply having to do with flooding, but it’s hard to hear the story and not reflect for just a bit on our own present reality. Perhaps those of us living on the coasts are more inclined to this than those who live inland.
I certainly agree that we best not get stuck in the ashes of death—but I know it’s important that we live in the truth of them. To me today, in the midst of a Flood Alert, the promise of new life is more vividly expressed in the final lines of the little Markan story. Jesus begins his preaching reminding us that the realm of God has come near, and if we can turn, and open ourselves to it, we’ll be entrusting ourselves to the Good News!
This morning I posted and Eileen pointed out what is an important typo. The last sentence should be ‘the baptized becomes the baptizer!
Thank you for pulling what seem like two things that are separate - ashes and rainbows - into a whole. Reminding me to look down and look up as part of a dance of seeing.
I visualize a dove and a rainbow intertwined, dazzling colour and brilliant white, infusing energy and strength and yes, wonder, into the struggling of the soul.
I also noted in the Mark reading, for the first time, Jesus does not return until John is arrested? Wow! A pathway open for a new voice ‘crying in the wilderness’. The baptized becoming the baptizer. The voice and action of new life
Thank you. I liked the words from ashes to Rainbow.
"After every wilderness comes life. God promised". This resonated with me after having my engagement broken off one month before the wedding (many years ago now) and the deaths of my parents within four months of each other in the year they would have celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary. There is life after the wildernesses in our life.
A colleague says these words when she administers the ashes, “Remember that you are stardust and to stardust you shall return .”
ANN, I kind of knew this (I'm scientifically inclined) but have never thought of us as being/becoming/being (karmic?) stardust.
What a wonderful way to think of life/death/life.
These words have dug into me deeply today, and I cannot even explain why. But thank you.
"If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain". And if you want life you gotta put up with everything that comes into it, even death.
Sagely put!
E. Beal
Having learned just this morning of the sudden and unexpected death of a friend, I needed your post about rainbows. Thank you. 🌈
Thank you for pulling what seem like two things that are separate - ashes and rainbows - into a whole. Reminding me to look down and look up as part of a dance of seeing.
I visualize a dove and a rainbow intertwined, dazzling colour and brilliant white, infusing energy and strength and yes, wonder, into the struggling of the soul.
I also noted in the Mark reading, for the first time, Jesus does not return until John is arrested? Wow! A pathway open for a new voice ‘crying in the wilderness’. The baptized becoming the baptized. The voice and action of new life
The baptized becoming the baptized.
I'm assuming (never assume!!!!) that you meant the last word to be baptizer. A wonderful way to look at the circle of life (ashes to rainbows to.....)
I did!
Our county celebrated the life of an amazing 90 something man yesterday—a faithful Christian and incredible philanthropist in our community for the arts and for seeking solutions for the unhoused. As one of his sons said “he binged on life.” He was a force and he inspired us with his legacy of generosity and his practice of “leaning in” to listen and to effect change. Your meditation is a perfect follow up to my experience yesterday being inspired by the life of this dear man so central to the life and well-being of our entire county. Memento vitae! Yes!! Thank you for the wonderful Lenten poems as well.
It was also Dom Crossan's 90th birthday yesterday!