“Good” and the mystical faith

Our devotional reading for today begins with the line “Christianity is a mystical faith, but not a magical faith.” Depending on the version you are reading, there is unfortunately a typo in that line which makes it read “Christianity is mystical faith…” .Even now, my editing program is having a conniption over that phrasing and it makes me wonder how I missed it when reading the devotional through multiple times while searching for errors and typos.

Christianity is a mystical faith that connects the practical physical reality with something beyond normal understanding. In the scripture reading we read of thousands of people eating a shared meal after one child came forward with five loaves of bread and two fish. The story is amazing, but it is not the only story of how people have seen the wondrous happen without the blessing of incredible wealth.

Soldiers from two different nations stopped during the first World War for a day of shared peace on Christmas. The peace could not have been bought or sold, but it was shared freely with people who shared the same faith on different sides of a war as they remembered the words “Peace on earth, and good will to all.” Victims have forgiven people who have committed atrocities against them simply because God asked them to forgive others. A sailor engaged in human trafficking came to a point of conversion and decided to stand against the very practices he once engaged in for a living. As an abolitionist, he both advocated for the dignity of the people he once harmed and sang about the amazing grace that changed his life.

Often without a world of riches at their command and often against the expectations and desires of the wealthy and powerful, people have dug into empty pockets and found that they were far richer than it looked on the outside. God has a way of showing up in a miraculous way to provide for those in need, whether it be through a changed heart, a call to forgiveness, the same hymns sung in different languages, or even the willingness to share found in a boy with five loaves of bread and two fish.

The #RethinkChurch Lenten Photo-A-Day prompt for today is “good.” I am blessed in many ways, but being a parent has often stretched me beyond the ends of what I thought were my limits. I have cried for my children, held them while they are sick, prayed over them at a distance, and now regularly wake up in the middle of the night to wonder where they are and how they are doing at that moment.

I have not always been the perfect parent, but that is not the fault of my children. I often feel like a poor father and I cannot give them everything they want in this world. Somehow, I have still been considered worthy enough by God to be their dad. I love them deeply. They are good, even when I pray for a way to be a better father. On some days, I even allow myself to believe that I must be good if I have been entrusted with such amazing kids.

My eldest during a time when life was challenging. I have always believed with all of my life that my eldest is good and I am so grateful to be his father.

A Canzone for those eyes

My daughter’s eyes. She was too young to understand my words Sunday…
Hopefully a seed will take root!

“Can you see deep down?”
The Distracted Pastor, 2019


Holy One, do You know me?
Deep down can You see?
All of the places in me?
They just look at me
And they simply laugh away.
Sometimes it breaks me
To wake up and see just me.
I walk lonely ways.
There are many simple ways
That You might help me.
My wounded, lonely spirit
Cries sadly, Spirit.

Can you see my heart Spirit?
You knit all of me
knowing my bones and spirit?
My sad cracked spirit?
What could you possibly see
You love me Spirit?
The world needed me Spirit?
Not hiding away?
Not shunned or thrown far away
From this life Spirit?
I am confused by Your ways.
Help me see Your ways.

I can see some of the ways
With happy Spirit.
When I walk down pleasant ways
I trace Your ways–
Fingerprints of You in Me.
Marks of Your deep ways
Show in the subtlest of ways
When I slow to see
The goodness that You must see
In Your ancient ways.
You draw me from far away.
I can't stay away.

Things that I would toss away
You bless through Your ways.
You toss ideal away.
Discard it away
As You stitch up my Spirit.
Weave, subtle Spirit.
Bless my imperfect spirit
As You work in me,
As You work to renew me.
Do not stay away.
Open my eyes–help me see
The perfect You see.

I can't always clearly see
How You work away
To form what You hope to see.
Pain distracts, You see?
Work in me Your calming ways.
Bless my eyes to see
The vision that You did see
When You put spirit
In my flesh by Your Spirit.
Bless my soul to see
The loveliness within me,
the best part of me.

Holy One, you do know me.
Though it's hard to see
You are never far away.
Teach me Your deep ways
Until spirit knows Spirit.

Sunday mornings I lead worship at the Maine Federated Church. This past Sunday I spoke with our younger disciples about Psalm 139. Psalm 139 is a tricky psalm in places, so we focused on the first 18 verses. There are words about God surrounding someone on every side, words about God crafting someone with care, and words about God’s deep love.

As I shared with the kids, I saw reflections in their eyes. My eyesight isn’t the best, but there was hope and pain in those young eyes. Perhaps one or two had already been told they were not the wonderful kids I believe that they happen to be. I wrote this canzone to work into the struggle I have shared with them over the years. Can these words really apply to us? Can we move from doubt to belief?

For the record, this is the first truly complicated form of poetry I have attempted. I am not adept with the canzone or sestina, so I would adore kind feedback or recommendations of other poems in these forms I should check out.