~~~^j^~~~
Thanks be to God!
The Sacredness of God's Handiwork
How do we live in creation? Do we relate to it as a place full of "things" we can use for whatever need we want to fulfill and whatever goal we wish to accomplish? Or do we see creation first of all as a sacramental reality, a sacred space where God reveals to us the immense beauty of the Divine?
As long as we only use creation, we cannot recognize its sacredness because we are approaching it as if we were its owners. But when we relate to all that surrounds us as created by the same God who created us and as the place where God appears to us and calls us to worship and adoration, then we are able to recognize the sacredness of all God's handiwork.Henri J. M. NouwenBread For the Journey
Another one of those times that turned out to be historical, as far as my own soul is concerned was when Lax and I were walking down Sixth Avenue, one night in the spring. The street was all torn up and trenched and banked high with dirt and marked out with red lanterns where they were digging the subway, and we picked our way along the fronts of the dark little stores, going downtown to Greenwich Village. I forget what we were arguing about, but in the end Lax suddenly turned around and asked me the question:
"What do you want to be, anyway?"
I could not say, "I want to be Thomas Merton the well-known writer of all those book review in the back pages of the Time Book Review," or "Thomas Merton the assistant instructor of Freshman English at the New Life Social Institute for Progress and Culture," so P put the thing on the spiritual plane, where I knew It belonged, and said:
"I don' know. I guess what I want it to be a good Catholic."
"What do you mean, you want to be a good Catholic?"
I saw the Conquerors riding by
With cruel lip and faces wan:
Musing on kingdoms sacked and burned
There rode the Mongol Genghis Khan;
And Alexander, like a God,
Who sought to weld the world in one;
And Caesar with his laurel wreath;
And leading, like a star the van,
Heedless of upstretched arm and groan,
Inscrutable Napoleon went
Dreaming of empire and alone...
Then all perished from the earth
As fleeting shadows from the glass,
And, conquering down the centuries,
Came Christ, the Swordless, on an ass.
~Harry Kemp~