Sacred Spaces Will Welcome Us Back

 Sacred Spaces Welcome Us Back

“The sea is his, and he made.”—Psalm 95:5.

 I am reliving the time we returned to our sacred space on the Gulf after being gone for months.

 As I sip my morning tea, a huge welcoming party awaits us. A cool breeze keeps us from being overheated. The wind brings with it the welcoming salty smell of the sea. Hundreds of fishing boats leave the pass early in the morning to say Hello. A pelican silently flies by our balcony and tips her wings. Another comes so close he takes our breath away.

Gulls circle the water in front of us but decide not to stay. Their loud squawk tells us they would only stay if we fed them. The clouds above make funny little faces to make us laugh. The lone blue heron flies by but does not land. He must be visiting new friends down the beach. Dolphins have not arrived, but they may consider extending the welcome later in the day. I hear the Blue Angels but cannot see them. A sparrow patiently waits on our balcony for any breakfast droppings.

I think of the men and women and children in the fishing boats. What will they catch today? They extend their lines deep beneath the surface, sometimes to great depths. Some venture far from land in search of the unknown. The fishermen travel with guides who know where to go, having been there before.

It is another metaphor for our spiritual journey, where we search beneath the surface of our lives to a deeper place of memories, dreams, and reflections. We go with spiritual guides who have been there before and know the territory. We share the joy of what we have found in community. We take back into our bodies and share the nourishment we had forgotten.

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There is so much more in store for us in the deeper waters than what is found by the lone fisherman casting his line on the shore. However, this fisherman meditates while waiting for the infrequent nibbles from the sea. He also has the opportunity to go deeper into his mind. He also shares his poles with young children, teaching them the new art form. Another is standing by with his cell phone to make a permanent memory of the event.

God is there, reaching out to us no matter how we extend our search. The finding is always in the searching.

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

Holy Smoke

Holy Smoke

“And the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel.”—Revelation 8:4.

holy smoke

I slowly stand up from my seat next to the Bishop’s chair near the altar at Holy Spirit Episcopal Church in Gulf Shores, Alabama, as the organist plays the prelude to the closing hymn, “Lift High the Cross.” The music is uplifting, but suddenly, I am transported and raised to another space. There is an unusual burning smell in the air. I look up and see two almost straight lines of black smoke rapidly rising at least a foot above the altar, just as quickly disappearing into the air in front of the congregation.

As the acolyte in the white alb passes by me to reach for the silver processional cross, I am aware that she has just extinguished the two candles on the glass altar.

This smell is unfamiliar from what I usually perceive at the end of the service. It is an especially holy smell, accompanied by an uplifting, holy smoke stronger than incense. It is raw, attention-getting, signaling that something has happened. The few in the front rows of the congregation can see the black smoke, but the smell probably persists only around the altar. By verse two of the hymn, as the crucifer leads the choir members in their blue cassocks and white surplices out of the church, I realize what this is all about.

The Altar Guild of Holy Spirit uses real candles, not the oil candles I am familiar with in many churches I visit. It is the smell and smoke from extinguished candle wax, and I am close enough to smell it.

I remember this scent. It is the residual fragrance after a spiritual direction meeting with seekers as they depart. I light the candle at the beginning of a spiritual direction session to symbolize our meeting as holy, as we care for our souls. I extinguish the candle at the end of our time to symbolize the passing of what we have shared. I know our time together as spiritual friends is holy work, just as our Eucharist on Sunday is sacred time.

The smell and the smoke tell me that whatever has happened is now being lifted up, spreading into the air of our surroundings, our universe. The Word we had together has now moved away from the altar or our meeting place and out into the world. We can no longer see the smoke, but it is there. I experience the smell only briefly, but it is a poignant reminder of what is happening. 

The Holy Word has spread its healing blessing out into the world, making a difference in all our wounded spaces.

Bless the Altar Guild of Holy Spirit for teaching me a little more about the movement of the Holy. 

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

De Mello: Intercessory Prayer, The Empty Chair

De Mello: Intercessory Prayer, The Empty Chair

“It is vital that you become aware of Jesus and get in touch with him at the beginning of your intercessory prayer. Otherwise, your intercession is in danger of becoming not prayer but an exercise of remembering people. The danger is that your attention will be focused only on the people you are praying for, and not on God.”—Anthony de Mello in Sadhana: A Way to God (Image Books), p. 126.

De Mello’s book had a significant impact on my spiritual practices. The awareness exercises of my surroundings, my body, and my senses have been the most practical avenues for learning how to experience God’s presence. I was familiar with these exercises before and had tried them without success, but they have now become an essential spiritual practice for me.

One more lesson to remember: Spiritual practices that were not meaningful in the past can become important later.

De Mello suggests that rather than envisioning the face or clothes of Jesus, we might seek a sense of Jesus in the shadows, calling him by as many names as we are led to. He recommends imagining Jesus in our prayers in an empty chair beside us. This can be one of the most consistent ways to experience the presence of Christ.

These intercessory prayer exercises can change how we pray and talk about prayer with others. We remember Jesus as the great intercessor, imagining Jesus’ presence directly beside us and visualizing those we pray for with Jesus laying hands on them.

The book’s last prayers deal with turning desires and prayers over to God one at a time—praising God at all times for everything, good and bad. This can change our prayer practice and also how we live our lives.

De Mello invites us to live and pray intimately, becoming part of the grand mystery of God’s love for us and all creation in the present moment. He believes this precious now, the present moment, is where God meets us.

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