Intersect

For the past few weeks, we've been talking about The Book of Psalms . This Sunday, as part of our new conversational style of worship, everyone was asked to think about a subject (something like tremendous joy or unbearable anguish; an aspect of God’s nature; thanksgiving to or frustration with God, or whatever else came to mind) and write one sentence summarizing their idea. We then wrote one response/exclamation to our initial thought, creating the first couple lines of a Psalm. We don't have pews or aisles of chairs in our sanctuary. We sit around tables of six or seven people who then assembled their thoughts together on a single page, in any order that struck them. It is surprising how effectively these separate pieces of poetry formed a Psalm.  I've assembled everyone's work into the following single Psalm. Thanks to everyone at The Current for your constant willingness to try new things, for your participation, and for your inspiration.  ...

Throughout Lent, we’ve been talking about seeing through the darkness. We’ve been discussing the idea that we only see a piece of reality; that we’re trapped in a cocoon that causes us to see the world through a hazy, silky veil, and that by refocusing our minds and lives on God we will begin to see our existence more deeply, more profoundly, more selflessly. The veil is created by our human need to achieve things; to control things. We’ve convinced ourselves that this Newtonian world, where every action has an opposite reaction, is the true nature of existence. We have conditioned ourselves to believe in opposition. One need only look at this week’s headlines to understand how detrimental this attitude of constant opposition is. Lent is a season to remember to let go. Let go of our control. Let go of our worries, our anxieties. Let go of the things we think are true and make way for new ideas—more holistic ideas that help us see through the veil, into a truth beyond simply reac...

God of graceful brilliance, adjust my eyes that I might better see you. Adjust my mind that I might better understand you. Adjust my hearing that I might better listen for you. Adjust my voice that I might only speak encouraging words of comfort. Adjust my frequency that I might always tune into your loving energy. I know I too often get caught up in the ways of the world. I pretend I don’t have time for you. I ignore you when you’re near and beg for your presence when you’re far away. I forget that you are never far away, it’s just that I haven’t bothered to pay you any attention. So, from now on, I promise to pay attention. I won’t take you for granted. I will acknowledge that you are my life force, you are my loving being, you are my miraculous beginning, my consciousness-expanding middle, and my glorious end. Thank you, Lord, for walking with me, for being patient with me, for nurturing me, and for pushing me ever forward, even when I do my best to swim against your loving current....

Infinite and infinitely loving God, we turn our hearts, minds, and souls to you, and beg you to remove the veils that prevent us from seeing the world, and each other, through your eyes. Remove the veil of fear, which causes us to build walls instead of bridges; which makes us tremble behind enclaves of excuses instead of creatively coexisting. Remove the veil of hatred, which starts arguments that turn into feuds that become world wars, simply because we cannot see, as did Jesus, beyond the things that divide us to the divinity that is the core of every human being. Remove the veil of envy, which causes us to hate rather than love our neighbor; which keeps us in a constant state of desire for material things; and prevents us from ultimate fulfillment through a more profound relationship with you. Remove the veil of greed, which causes us to take advantage of others and creates the misguided idea that it’s every person for themselves, when the truth beyond the veil is that we’re all in...