A Liturgy of the Veil

A Liturgy of the Veil

Guest Writer: Karen DuBert

"At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split."— Matthew 27:51

A Liturgy of the Veil

It was not a translucent, shimmering, lacy veil—

a hint of covering, inviting speculation.

It was not to hide the wearer or obscure the view.

It was weighty, ponderous, impressive

(“thick as a man’s hand” they said)

sixty feet high by thirty feet wide,

seventy-two squares woven together to last:

A massive undertaking to fabricate

to say nothing of hanging it

(it took three hundred priests, they claim)

Lord, the Veil You ordered to keep us safe

was not soft and cozy to bury our faces in—

no, it hung heavy, solid, and forbidding.

That veil was a shield

to protect us from the searing brightness of Your glory,

from the Beauty we couldn’t bear to see

from the Perfection that would have scalded us

from the Holiness that threatened to blind us:

It barred the way to the Mercy Seat

and once a year it was trespassed

(with fear and trembling, I’m sure)

by one with bells attached

and a rope to pull a body back—should things go badly.

In that veil You posted “No trespassing:

Violators will be prosecuted”

Thus we fathomed that holy was hazardous

as well as sacred.

But then “at the moment”

when the tormented Man on the cross cried out—

that Impenetrable Veil was obsolete,

Torn from top to bottom:

You tore it

and the Mercy Seat glimmered—

centuries of sprinkled bloodstains vanished.

So began the invitation into Your Presence

to bask in a welcome

we could never have borne

had death’s undoing not begun

and nothing has ever been the same. 

Amen

Karen DuBert

 Joanna JoannaSeibert. com

Earth Day Again

Earth Day Again

“For in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible.”—Colossians 1:16a.

DOK Western Missouri

The verse from Colossians is an ancient Christian hymn describing who Christ is. I also see it as a reminder to look for the Christ in ourselves and others. moment by moment. I know how difficult this is. Sometimes, the Christ is so visible—and sometimes invisible.

In the Thornton Wilder play Our Town, I think of Emily, who is allowed to return to earth for one day to Grover’s Corners after her young, untimely death at age twenty-six. She chooses her twelfth birthday and soon returns to her grave—when she can no longer bear watching as the people she loves barely interact with each other. They seem unable to appreciate the joy and wonder of each new day together and fail to see the Christ in each other.

I am reminded of a past Earth Day when I listened to music about the earth, such as Beethoven’s Sixth Pastoral Symphony, as we traveled from a reunion in Virginia to the Gulf Coast. Hearing this symphony immediately reminds me of our four years in Iowa City. The music was the background for a visual production of the Iowa outdoors called Iowa, A Place to Grow, a reminder to bloom where we were planted and appreciate the beauty of the earth and the people of that state.

I remember the first Earth Day in 1970. It was the day my husband of six months left for Vietnam for a year. I was pregnant with our first child and felt sorry for myself. I spent the day watching the Earth Day celebration on our small black and white television and stripping the wax off our kitchen floor. I knew I had to transform the energy generated by Robert’s leaving into something useful. I wish I could write here that I planted trees, but my kitchen floor was as far as I got.

I do remember one Earth Day trip when we drove through a gentle rain. The car radio played American composer Alan Hovhaness’s tribute to a beloved tree on his uncle’s farm struck by lightning, “Under the Ancient Maple Tree.” The best I could do that day was enjoy the ride, give thanks for the rain, and be grateful for the bountiful green trees keeping us alive along Interstate 85. Today, that Earth Day, is even more meaningful since we recently had lightning strike a tree in our backyard so close to our house. We hope to care for that tree, knowing it took a hit for us.

I wish I could say I participated in some extraordinary events to care for and thank our earth, especially its trees, on the other fifty-five Earth Days since that first one. Still, I honestly cannot remember many Earth Days.

I think of my father, a forester who led hundreds of expeditions to plant pine seedlings. I remember on trips how he often pointed out the tall, grown trees he had planted. Now, many years later, I thank him for his plantings. I know he would be proud of our daughter, Joanna. She also has a master’s degree in forestry, taught wilderness classes at the University of Montana, and is a masterful outdoors lover.

From my father and daughter, I have learned that our environment, the outdoors, and especially trees, keeps us grounded in the present moment. I think Emily in Our Town seems to be talking about this present moment, where we learn to appreciate each precious gift of time, especially time with those we love.

Emily in Our Town

My experience is that I live most consciously in the present moment when I am outdoors, seeing the trees and plants. I realize that something more significant is happening than the past and future with which I am so preoccupied.

I am reminded of Parker Palmer’s thoughts that, as trees photosynthesize light energy to chemical energy, they transform or photosynthesize our energy when we are outdoors.

On a recent Earth Day, we drove through northwest Arkansas and western Missouri to meet with over fifty Daughters of the King of the Diocese of Western Missouri. The trees, especially the cedars, the rolling hills, creeks, and bridges, were stunning, as were these extraordinary women. We talked a lot about living in the present. That day, we experienced it as well.

C. S. Lewis and so many others, and now Emily, all remind us that the present moment, not the past or the future, is where we meet and recognize God in ourselves, each other, and nature. Caring for and being in nature is one of the best ways to know the Creator, the God of Love.

I hope that if we can live as much as possible in the present moment, savor it, and let love be our guide, we may be able to overcome our social and warring unrest better than we were before.

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Return on Blue Sky on Earth Day

Charleston: Return of the Blue Sky on Earth Day

"Did you notice any stories about the return of the blue sky? Unfortunately, there were not many of them, and they were usually tucked away behind other news reports that seemed much more critical. But they were there: the return of clear skies above cities like Los Angeles, which had not been seen for generations. As the traffic level declined, the pollution declined, and the clear sky appeared like a sign from heaven.

It is a visual aid to show us that positive change is possible on the other side of COVID-19. Not just for the environment, but our whole society. The blue skies can return for us in many ways if we have the courage to change."—Bishop Steven Charleston's Facebook Page.

ted soqui NBC News

Today, we celebrate the 55th anniversary of Earth Day. Last year, Bishop Charleston reminded us that trying to stop this pandemic had given our planet a rest. As a result, pollution and greenhouse gas emissions fell worldwide. For example, India's capital, New Delhi, is one of the world's most polluted cities. But its skies were now blue, and many could see the Himalayas Mountains for the first time.

Researchers found a 5 to 10% decrease in air pollutants, such as carbon dioxide, in New York. Carbon monoxide emissions dropped by 50%. Grounding flights, reducing cars on the road, and shutting down businesses and factories brought about the change. Some predicted we might reach the Paris Climate Accord goals even sooner. In Venice, canal water was so clear that fish were easily seen. This may be because there are no boats and people in its waters. But environmentalists warn all this could be temporary. 

Today, all of this has been at a great expense—the death of over one million people in our own country and over 7 million worldwide. We can only guess what it will be tomorrow if we have another flare-up of infections.  

Bishop Charleston tells us to give thanks for the blue sky, honor its presence, imagine ways to keep the skies blue, and never forget the cost in the lives of so many who died. There must be another way to save our planet that is not so costly.

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com. https://www.joannaseibert.com/