It helps, now and then, to step back
and take the long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of
the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete,
which is another way of saying
that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection . . .
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are about:
We plant seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces effects beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything
and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for God's grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results . . .
We are prophets of a future not our own.
"A Future Not Our Own"
Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador
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"This is how it works You're young until you're not You love until you don't You try until you can't You laugh until you cry You cry until you laugh And everyone must breathe Until their dying breath//
No, this is how it works You peer inside yourself You take the things you like And try to love the things you took And then you take that love you made And stick it into some Someone else's heart Pumping someone else's blood And walking arm in arm You hope it don't get harmed But even if it does You'll just do it all again" --On The Radio, Regina Spektor
I think, perhaps, that Life is what happens when we, physical, human representations come into contact with the spiritual, the super-natural, the divine.
Like, if we are the trumpets, violins, and cellos and the Divine is the notion, the creativity, the spirit that put the notes in their rightful spots. When these forces meet, something new happens: something called music.
If I knew how to dance, like a nice two-person number that Mario Lopez would Dance With The Stars, I might compare it to that. It makes a lot of sense, the whole "two working together to make a singularly beautiful action" thing...
But I don't know anything about dancing.
But music... yes, music makes sense to me. The notes are there, on the page, sure, but they actually don't exists in or on the page -- they're actually somewhere else. They're nowhere, really, until some kind of musical instrument plays them.
But when that happens, and when notes are played well, and when they are in tune, and on pitch, and played with a beautiful timbre...
Well, I really don't think there's anything better.
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