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| Photo courtesy of Pixabay |
The epoch we live in is the Time of God. A time like no other since time began on planet earth.
An "overblown" statement? Well, in one sense, yes—these words may be
said of any period in the long thread of history. Each era of earth and
humanity has/has had its distinct season in the great mosaic of earthlife. Every
"time" falls within those margins.
But
. . . but there is something intangible, and crucially, overwhelmingly tangible about This Day we inhabit. The
"what" of it is both simple—and overwhelmingly complex. Starkly put,
dwelling on planet earth is becoming increasingly and alarmingly difficult and
dangerous. And sad. The complexities—both diverse and similar—are an endless overlap
of human and environmental crises. Our home in the universe is under attacks
both "extraterrestrial" and people-driven.
The Time of God? Again, there is no
earth-moment that is not eternal in some indefinable sense. But it is becoming
ever more obvious that something untamable and yes, largely unnamable is
happening, in ways both inter-related and disparate. We are faced with crises
that have sprung from uncommon roots—from nature . . . and our untamed nature
We are specifically here, deeply planted and often
pruned and hoping to be "productive"—maybe not as much as we wish we
were, in the ways we want to be, but in a way that prepares us to encounter and
respond to life as it unfolds. We are called to live apace with the Son of God.
We are ordained to persevere with Him today in a world that is in turmoil and
spinning out of control.
We are inherently
here simply because we have a
Lodestar within, and if we know that—really, deep-down believe that—it draws us
where He wants us to be at a given moment, for His purposes. The magi knew a
Lodestar when they saw one, and it led them to a most unpretentious spot that
kings and rabbis never knew of.
The Christ-within dwells in small
places and enlarges them. He comes to us in our poverty and enriches us. He
measures all things by His omnipotent seeing, and steps among us when and where
we least expect it.
And so I believe we are indeed called people, and that if we choose, we
can be called at any Given moment to step out of our cave, like Elijah (1 Kings
19:11-13), and hear that still, small Voice that called forth creation.
Yes—the world is indeed in turmoil. This
is no time to mess around, to spin our wheels, to major in the minors, to waste
our lives and our substance on things irrelevant or even peripheral. The very
fact of our existing right now is a greater Gift than any of us is prepared
for—or even wants. But it is ours, because we said YES to Him. We are here in
this struggling world to offer a way through
life as opposed to a way out of life.
I am not persuaded that everything I do
and touch and want and dream of is eschatological and prophetic and ordained.
But this week, a simple thought struck me, powerfully and with immediacy.
This
is what I “heard:” “You are a marked
people.”
Because we have “heard” and responded to
His Call, we who live in this day, by the Grace and Call of God, are a “marked
people.” His bloodstain is truly upon us. We are sealed by that stigmata for
something quite immediate and pivotal. We
are led into His green pastures in order to be prepared for the desert. We
are led into the desert in order to discover, to recognize, to evoke the green
pastures.
The desert is a step beyond our door. It
may even have crept over our own doorsill. We are called to stand intact,
broken and mended, in the midst of the world’s, and perhaps our own, rack and
ruin, and to become more than solitary soldiers fending off the unseen enemy.
We are, all of us, wherever we find ourselves—alone or
crowded in or simply connected—called to become a Congregation.
Not a bless-me club, not a holier than
thou society. A congregate of stalwart, pliable, tenderized, stubborn souls who
have found Truth, and express it by the context of our lives—by the sum total,
the momentum and minutia of our days and ways.
We may never see each other, never know
each other upon this earth, but we are nonetheless a congregate of marked souls . . . a steady stream of pilgrims, magi,
refugees from the dregs of life, following our Lodestar, finding the Rock-firm
place where He dwells. If we have found it and lived it well, beyond the cave
of our indifference, our fear, our endless distress and distractions, others
will come seeking. And live alongside us.
~Judith Deem Dupree
