Last evening I didn’t have a chance to post, but we shared an amazing Lectio together at our vestry meeting. Looking at the first few verses of Psalm 18, God as rock…space of protection… and Nan Merrill’s rich imagery of “I abandon myself to You, O Living Presence.” This image struck many of us….
And, this morning, back on my patio with the little fledgling cherry tomatoes.
We arrive at Psalm 19, this wonderfully rich text:
In the NRSV,
“The heavens are telling the glory of
and the firmament proclaims
Day to day pours forth speech,
and night to night declares
There is no speech, nor are there
their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through
all the earth,
and their words to the end of
It’s beautiful. Sitting here this morning, watching the birds flock to our little feeder, watching the trees sway in the cool breeze, hearing a hawk cry out from somewhere…over there… Seeing the sun rise up through the trees. Seeing the clouds hang there in the sky. Hearing the water drip from the drain from yesterday’s rain and the dew off the roof. Seeing how the grass has sprouted up in places (and remembering to call to have it mown).
To be there, to see this, hear this…and then there’s this reminder that I can only hear this when I, myself, am silent.
Norman Fischer has this interpretation in his Zen-inspired psalms
“The Heavens express your fire
The night sky is the work of your hands
Day after day is your spoken language
Night after night your perfect knowing
There is no speech, there are no words
Their voice falls silent
Yet the music plays everywhere
To the end of the earth its clear notes float out
To the end of the worlds the words pronounced
And I wonder…when I read the NRSV, I saw how all of nature has a voice…even though it isn’t “spoken,” the voice of creation calls out. And, with Fischer, it reminds me that this voice is actually the voice of God, the voice of the Creator, echoing…being embodied…inhabiting.