Voice of Authority

Deuteronomy 18:15-20

Mark 1:21-28

At the start of a presidential campaign year we have several months ahead to be bombarded by voices that would beg for our listening ears and convinced hearts and minds that they are the one voice to heed.  Each would-be candidate will spend millions of dollars trying to be the person whose voice, passion, convictions, and actions are worthy of the trust of this nation and the world.  Each one speaks as if they are the final authoritative word on the subject at hand; if everyone would just listen to them our country and the world would find a fix.  While each will use the rhetoric of a passionate public servant, underlying each speech is a degree of self-promotion, of ego, a personal quest.

Emmet Fox, early 20^th century pioneer of the New Thought movement writes:  Every thought is made up of two factors, knowledge and feeling.  A thought consists of a piece of knowledge with a charge of feeling, and it is the feeling alone that gives power to the thought.  He says you may have a vital piece of knowledge given but if there is no feeling attached the knowledge goes nowhere, whereas there may be a less significant piece of knowledge but is accompanied by intense feeling that drives it forward. (January 28 entry from Around the Year, Emmet Fox) Check out Fox’s thought suggestion as you listen to speeches and speakers and pay attention to your feeling that accompanies their information.

I wonder about the information and knowledge combined with feelings regarding authoritative words today.  If indeed there is a desire to serve a greater good, to be public servants, then perhaps would-be leaders today might receive a lesson from the prophetic voices of scripture (though my cynical side believes that for the most part, our candidates are likely to have very few similarities to the voices of authority from the Judeo-Christian tradition).  A few questions we might ask include: 

From where does one’s authority come? Who authors it?

Are the hearers the authority grantors?

Is it responders or followers that lend authority to another?

Where does truth and worthiness of trust fit into the authority equation?  and how do we know truth?

What creates positively charged feelings to accompany information?

Moses was the authoritative voice in early Hebrew history.  His role as the prophetic law-giver and leader of God’s people places him as the traditional authoritative voice in Jewish religious history. Reading Moses’ history we know that in his early years he likely received an excellent education and was surrounded by opportunities to instill leadership as he grew up in Egyptian emperor’s household.  He fled in fear of the consequences of his killing-found-out only to become a shepherd in the wilderness. 

Perhaps it was those desert years of soul searching, of reviewing all the knowledge he had, charged with his feelings and wondering, that honed and humbled him in order that he could become both a public servant and spiritual leader.  First off, he paid attention to the mystery around him, he listened, and he initially resisted a public leadership role.  Then he relied on something greater than himself.  When Moses returned to the Egyptian scene he did not come with a self- promoting agenda but with a vision, a possibility, and a promise beyond his own capability, that would require trust and shared responsibility in community. 

Moses was a prophet, a mouthpiece for God. The Biblical tradition implies that Moses’ authority was authored by God.  The Hebrew people heard and responded in increments, with growing trust as the words of Moses took on new meaning and value.  Bit by bit Moses’ words became reality. Knowledge increasingly charged with positive feelings, created a movement.  He became the visionary and the voice of authority as the one who stood between the people and their God.  Though both Moses and the Hebrews wavered many times, it became evident that Moses had authority as God’s servant, a voice to be heeded. The designated reading from Deuteronomy invites the hearers to pay attention to the prophet voices that would come after Moses, who would speak not on their own behalf, but be the mouthpieces for God, who would be trustworthy as the words of their mouths were fulfilled.  These voices of authority would be God-authored.  It’s interesting to note that most of God’s prophets we read of were reticent to take that authoritative role.  Not one promoted their own agenda.

The reading from Mark’s Gospel places Jesus at the beginning of his ministry.  At this point he has not garnered the concern of the religious authorities, whose authority came from the religious institution of the day.  In the gospel reading the story takes place on the Sabbath Day, a healing takes place on that day within the synagogue, an act that in time would incur the wrath of religious authorities but endeared him to the common people of the land.  In this reading for today, Sabbath healing was not what drew attention.  Authority is what surprised those present.  Jesus spoke with authority.  He taught with authority.  This seemed to be a new thing, a different thing, a surprising teaching that had authority behind it, unlike what folks typically heard.  His authority seemed to have power with it, even over negative, aggressive, outspoken spirits that would publically deride him. He had an authority that lent peace, healing, wholeness.  His message, information, or knowledge was accompanied by feelings of awe and amazement that attracted listeners and instilled a powerful, positive response.

Where did Jesus’ authority come from?  Later in his ministry that was the very question the religious authorities wanted to know also. Who had given him authority to even dare speak in public? He did not come up through the approved ranks of sanctioned learning and leadership.  He was appointed by neither political nor religious entities. Even those in his hometown would question his authority. He did not attempt to rally the masses, or desire to overthrow anyone else’s authority, nor tow some party line.  He offended some nearest to him, and frightened others who would “shush” him out of protection.  Jesus’ authority seemed to be something new because it came from some other source, or perhaps some inner source.  Perhaps it seems so unusual because of the integrity, compassion, and truth-telling and powerfully charged feelings that accompanied it. Perhaps it was his humble stance in the midst of people rather than a posturing that separated one from another.  Perhaps it was the authoritative message of grace, the good news that God is love more than an angry judge. Perhaps people were instilled with hope.  That was something new.  His authorship, the one scripting his message, the inspiration (or the in-breath of Spirit) offered a different voice, one with a different kind of authority.

Such an inspired voice always bears with it opposition.  Who are the prophetic voices of our generation and where are they?  Many, like Jesus, were killed because of this inner authority that scripted their message creating feelings that led to violence: Bonhoeffer, Gandhi, and M.L.King.  Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela managed to survive and lead hopeful transition with their voices of an authorship from beyond their own agenda.  Like Jesus, these also had the shouts of spirits that would deride and accuse and in some ways clearly identify that their message carried in it of something more than what was, something new, something greater, something of holiness.

I don’t think we can choose to be such a voice of authority. I believe authority has to choose us, write or script into us the essence of some truth beyond ourselves, and then we need to be willing to give voice to the message.  It’s not something we can pursue with our own interests for power or success in mind.  The best way we might find ourselves becoming a voice that lends some authorship of depth is simply to be open to it and cooperate with it, no matter the outcome.

As the presidential debates, advertisements, posturing, accusations, mudslinging, and pulling-the-wool over our eyes and wolfish personalities comes our way in the months ahead, I wonder if we can listen with the ear of our heart and soul, with the ear for the word of God’s voice, with a sensitive to feeling instilled, and maybe, just maybe, discern some new prophetic authority coming through human flesh.

If you have been given a place or voice of authority, from where or whom does it come?   Who or what authors you?  Who or what writes the script by which you speak and lead?  What happens when that voice of authority goes out to those we encounter?

May the Spirit of wisdom, justice, love, and transformative power speak to and through us.  Listening, may we cooperate with Spirit’s life in us to engage in the world for the good of all things and all people for Love’s sake.  May we heed holy authorship.

Canticle of the Turning

Jonah 3:1-5, 10

Mark 1:14-15

I Cor 7: 29-31

Turn it around, flip it upside-down. How about a U-Turn?  Redirect the course.  Change.  Or in Biblical language, repent.   It’s not my favorite word, and the notions of sandwich board doomsday sayers who pop up from time to time make me cringe.  Repent is one of those words that needs redeeming.  The lectionary readings for this day share a prophetic voice speaking for God, an invitation for repentance in it’s literal sense, to turn around, change course, redirect attention and life’s energy.  Metanoia, the Greek word for repent, calls for turning in our thoughts, minds, hearts and intension. It is the voice of God calling for change, a canticle of turning.

Jonah, that reluctant prophet, is one of my favorite prophets because he is so human.  He has the audacity to disobey God’s instructions and initially runs away from the task of speaking God’s words of repentance.  Unable to avoid God or the message he trudges into despised Nineveh and gives the message of doom to that great city.  Yes, he is a doomsday prophet.  Not good news for Nineveh.  And then the twist. Despite Jonah’s distain for Nineveh and his appointed task, the people listen and believe.  They believed God, says the text, and repented.  They recognized that they were in need of changing course, that something was amiss: listening, believing, obeying the call to something better, something more. From the least to the greatest, animal and human, all participated in a fast of repentance, of remorse, of a decision to change their ways.  Whether they did actually change their ways we don’t know.  The surprising twist is that God repented also. God changed his mind.  It says it right there in black and white. Maybe the book of Jonah is less about Jonah and Nineveh and more about a God of compassion who is not bent on judgment and condemnation, but a God who also changes course in order for life and grace to abound.  This is exactly what Jonah did not like about God.  He knew God to be merciful.  Jonah had hoped for destruction.  Jonah needed a little repentance of heart himself.

The apostle, Paul, encouraged the early church time and time again to not be conformed to this world.  As a prophetic voice, a mouthpiece for God, Paul urged his hearers to something more, something greater.  Paul, like his fellow apostles, believed that the return of Christ was eminent, the appointed time has grown short…for the present form of this world is passing away, so now is the time to be God-ward, God focused, new life focus, for all things are about to change, so he believed.  His was a message of metamorphosis, metanoia, shifting the focus and energy from being established comfortably to the world’s standards to living into a higher, broader, deeper reality of holy living, now.  Now is the time.  God’s invitational message to repentance through Paul may be a reminder to the church today that now is the time.  Rather than looking to some futuristic heavenly realm when all things will be transformed and made into God’s full intention, NOW, this present moment; now is the time to live into Godliness.  We are invited every moment into the now-opportunity to live into who and what the Holy One would intend for us and for the world.

Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming good news; the time is now, he said, the realm of God, the ways of God’s intent and desire are right here close by you, so wake up, turn around, turn your attention to what God is doing in your midst. (Miriam’s paraphrase)  I imagine the first century Galilee within the Roman Empire was not unlike previous centuries (or the following centuries) of Nineveh, Jericho, Babylon, or Jerusalem when bad news of oppression, of scarcity, of vying for power, economic disparity, and violence seemed to dictate the media.  Jesus, a mouthpiece of God, came preaching “good news” of repentance, of God’s work to change things up.  In the midst of doomsday sayers in his own time, Jesus brought a message of God’s desire to turn things inside out and upside down to bring life.

All of God’s word, written, within the story of the centuries and within our stories, and embedded within the creation is the proclamation of the good news of change, of possibility, of transformation, of beginning again, repentance as a daily practice, conversion or converting what was into what could be.  Now is the time again, says Jonah and Paul and Jesus.

What are we invited to change in this day? in our personal lives? in our shared experience in this world?  Now is the time to listen to God’s calling for good news of transforming grace, for all things are changing.  Do we have the ability to hear the voice of God calling, inviting us into greater life?  Can we be like Nineveh or the first disciples and heed to voice of God inviting transformed living?

16^th century mystic, Teresa of Avila writes:

Let nothing trouble you,

let nothing frighten you.

All things are passing;

God never changes.

Patience obtains all things.

He who possesses God lacks nothing:

God alone suffices.

Of course the Jonah story reminds us that God does change.  Perhaps it is God’s intention toward LIFE, toward mercy and grace and peace that is changeless, and how God empowers that to happen in and through us is what is changeable.  A Christian folk song from the 70s reminds us that God is changing everything, everything, everything, everything.

Mary’s song that we know as the Magnificat, is song of God turning things around (Luke 1:47-55).  Mary celebrates that she is part of the great turn around that God was enacting.  It’s a song of praise, a song of joy, that celebrates the holy reversal of what’s gone haywire.  Rory Cooney’s arrangement of the Magnificat and set to the Celtic tune of Star of the County Down is a wonderful rendition and reminder of God who is turning the world around through us. 

My heart shall sing of the day you bring. 

Let the fires of your justice burn.

Wipe away all tears, for dawn draws near,

and the world is about to turn!

Hear Rory Cooney sing her Canticle of the Turning at

 (www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXyGh1MW2OM) or find a copy and listen or learn the Canticle of the Turning.

May we like Mary, like Nineveh, like the followers of Jesus, participate in the repentance of God and God’s activity in us to bring the world to wholeness.

Knowing and Being Known

I Sam 3:1-10; Ps 139: 1-6, 13-18;  John 1:43-51

Listen for the word of the Lord:  I Sam 3:1-10

…. the word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread…

Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him.  (v1&7) 

The Lord, the one whom he served, was unknown to Samuel and to most people in that day.  It seems that Samuel, did as he was instructed, he follow protocol, the ritual, a routine, but had no first hand experience with this God whom he served.  Hm.

I wonder; to what extent do we who may refer to ourselves as servants of God really know God?  What does it mean to know the Lord God?  Is this something more than knowing about God, some deeper knowing?  The reading says, the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to Samuel.  What does that mean?  Has the word of the Lord been revealed to us?  Has God been revealed to me?  If so, how?  To what extend do we know about God, follow religious practices, but have not first hand experience with God.

Then there is David, the shepherd king of Israel, anointed king by Samuel some years later.  As a young shepherd boy, David, who was not a priest or prophet, seemed to know the Lord first hand, had encounter God.  In his song that we call, Psalm 139, David recognizes and sings of Yahweh’s complete knowledge of him. 

READ PS 139

Before we were even born, sings David, we were known altogether; our thoughts, words, and deeds. Everything about us, according to David’s experience was known by God.  God was the Knowing One.  What was it that enabled David to know and be known by God so intimately?

In the Gospel reading from John, we read of Nathanael who meets Jesus. His first words to the one who would become his rabbi was,  Where did you get to know me?  in other words: How do you know me?  or, You don’t know me.  You’ve never met.  How can you possibly know anything about me?  Jesus responded that he had seen and observed Nathanael while sitting under the fig tree.  In some way Jesus had experienced something of Nathanael that enabled him to recognize something IN Nathanael.  Nathanael, caught off guard, was amazed that someone noticed something within him and knew something of his inner being.  Nathanael then took the risk to know Jesus.

So I wonder, how do we begin to know God?   How do we know Jesus?  Do we know about God or Jesus?  or do we know  them?  and how are we known by God?   How do we come to know anything?

In infancy our first “knowing” is contentment or discontentment, feeling secure or insecure which is all dependent on the surroundings of warmth, being fed, being held.  We begin to know our world, whether it is safe or not by the way in which we experience it.  Like infants all that we know is by experiencing it; by observing, seeing, hearing, touching, some tangible encounter?

Do you know how to ski, water ski or downhill or XC ski?  You could study, observe, learn all about the technique and best gear, but not really know skiing until you actually gave it a try and experienced it somehow, the agony of defeat and thrill of the ride.  How about some exotic food- sushi or haggis?  Some one could describe it, you might see it on a menu, but you don’t KNOW about it until you experienced the taste and texture yourself first hand.  A live symphony concert or Blues club trio experienced first hand is quiet a different knowing than listening to a CD.  Standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon and experiencing the grandeur is a different kind of knowing than looking at photos in National Geographic.  Spending an afternoon marching with the Martin Luther King, or sitting beside the Dalai Lama, or visiting with your next door neighbor, or sitting beside someone sharing a meal and conversation at a soup kitchen is quite a different kind knowing than reading a paragraph or two about them from a book or passing them by in your busy affairs.  Knowing comes from some kind of tangible experience, something beyond a heady information byte.

It seems to me that the Word of God in the readings for today invites us to consider this:  God is a Knowing God who wants to be known. 

Samuel’s first experience with God was when heard the voice calling to him.  Last week’s lectionary passages told of the voice of God calling creation into being, of the voice of the Lord over the water and in the thunder and fire, in all creation (Ps 29), and of a voice from heaven at Jesus’ baptism.   When Samuel heard this voice calling he assumed it must be old Eli’s.  Blind Eli finally perceived, a different kind of seeing, that the Lord was calling to Samuel.  Not many heard the voice of the Lord in those days but Samuel had a first first-hand encounter not only being known but also knowing God.  In this holy knowing moment Samuel’s came to know God in a first first-hand experience, in the dark of the night in the sanctuary of the Lord.

An energetic contemplative, David, the singer-song writer, shepherd, inspirational king,  military leader, repentant adulterer and murderer,  father who witnessed the death of 2 sons experienced God as the Knowing One.  On starry nights in pasture lands, on the battlefield, hiding out in caves, and in deep depression David recognized God was with him and believed he was fully known by God. Yahweh, I know you are near, standing always by my side...For David, to be fully known, and to know this God in some experiential way, was both a mystery, a miracle, and a great comfort that this Knowing God was always near and present; knowing even David’s  strengths and weaknesses, his failures and successes, God did not leave him but was always there, always present, always experiencing life alongside David.

What about us?   How do we know God?  Is our knowing of God limited to the words of the Bible or experience of a Sunday morning worship?  Do we know God by our own experience or do we know about God from someone else’s experiences?  How often might the Knowing One be calling out to us in the night or in a sunrise, in the common ordinariness of life, in the needs of those around us, in the silence, in cries or in laughter but we don’t know it to be the voice of God because we don’t expect it?  Do you have a sense that there is a Knowing One who knows everything there is about you? and is that a comfort?  would you rather remain unknown?  Have you ever encountered, experienced God first-hand?

Although Nathanael became a follower of Jesus, he was a first suspicious of Jesus.  Everyone knew that neighborhoods of Nazareth didn’t produce much leadership.  How might we be like Nathanael, a little suspicious, hesitant, and private?  We don’t want anyone to know our business.  We don’t want to be known.  If someone claims to know something about us we might like to prove them wrong.   Nathanael, however, stepped into the risk of knowing and being known by this man called Jesus who seemed to know and be known by God.  To what degree are we ready to take the risk of experiencing God with us?  to be fully known and to know, first hand, beyond words, to touch and taste and encounter the Unknown One who wants to be known?

That’s what I believe - God wants to be known.  God, in creation…is always at work in self-revelation.  God desires for us to experience and know first hand the Holy Mystery of God’s creative love and life.  The season of Epiphany is an invitation to pay attention to ways Jesus was becoming KNOWN and how he enable others, and us, to know God more fully, to experience God in the everyday matters of life.

I ask myself,  how do you have a first hand experience with God, Miriam?  Do you hear voices calling?  Is there a comprehension that God knows all about you and still loves and desires to be hear you?  Can you experience God in the silence or in the voice of another?  Do you recognize the presence of God in the security of love? in the quiet grandeur of the sunrise? in the wonder of a new child or the sacred moment of a death? in taking a breath? in rising from sleep? in the eyes of another?  Where and how do you encounter and experience this God who seeks to be known?

May we take the risk of seeing, tasting, touching, being open and vulnerable in heart and mind, to be known and know the God who is always with us.  May we experience and know God everywhere and in everyone, every day.

Prayer:

Holy Knowing One,

you come near to us everyday

in the common things like fruit trees

and candle light,

while we sit under trees with friends

and in the quiet of the night.

You come near and speak in

ways we can understand

if we have ears to ears,

even without words.

Often we are too

occupied with something else

to notice your presence

to hear you calling to us

in the quiet

or in the tumult.

You long to be known

to be experienced by us

to be revealed.

Come Holy Epiphany

and open our eyes to recognize you 

in all that is.

Open our hearts to know your love.

Open our minds to receive your wisdom.

Open our lives to experience your presence.

The Voice of God

Jan. 8, 2012

Gen. 1:1-5;  Psalm 29;  Mark 1:9-11

What is more delightful than the voice of the Holy One calling to us?   (Rule of Benedict, prologue)

I wonder about the gospel readings that tell the story of Jesus’ baptism by John in the Jordan.  Matthew, Mark, and Luke each tell similar stories, while John’s version does not tell of John actually baptizing Jesus.  John has been told that the one on whom the Spirit descends is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.  John says Jesus is the one, the Son of God.  His version doesn’t speak of the heavens being torn apart, nor of the Spirit in the form of a dove, nor does he mention hearing a voice from heaven, all of which are found in the other gospel readings.  The gospel writers all believe Jesus was baptized by John and something happened that seems to indicate something special about the person and the occasion. 

So, I wonder about this story, and more specifically, I wonder about the voice that says, You are my son, the Beloved.  With you I am well pleased.  Who heard this voice?  Did everyone who was there hear the voice or just a few?  Was it a voice that only Jesus heard and later told his disciples about it?  Was it the ear of his heart that heard this voice from heaven in midst of quiet baptismal waters dripping off of him? None of the gospel writers who record this voice speaking were witnesses to it.  John, who could have been there doesn’t mention a voice.  Was it an inner voice of affirmation at his becoming a rabbi?  Did it sound like a human voice and if so was it male or female, old or young?  What language were the words?  Were there words or a sense of language or something like speaking in tongues?  Was it the thunder as clouds parted after a storm, or before a storm while at the same time a frightened bird came looking for a safe place to land, and the coincidence of these things was received as a God-incident?

I wonder about being away from the noise of the city, in a deserted place, in a space where there is an openness to the things of God; signs, voices, feelings, thoughts.  How might the voice of God be heard when one is listening for the voice of God?  At the dawn of creation, the first day as recorded in Genesis, there is the notion of some sort of form of God, like the wind, ruach, breath, spirit, intangible, moving and alive and somehow had a voice to speak and vision to see what was becoming of light and darkness.  Similar to the deserted place of Jesus baptism, the formless void and darkness was a landscape of emptiness.  Into that space comes a voice.  Who or what heard it?  Or could it be that the creation processes within the mystery of the unknown somehow heard and responded to that that which was calling it into being, a voice without words, but an urging and encouragement of life to become?

The singer-song writer, David, the beloved shepherd king of ancient days, heard the voice of God also.  Psalm 29 is his ancient song of the voice of God in the great storms that rumble in the heavens and stir up the mighty waters and catches even the mighty cedar and oak trees hanging on for dear life. It was in fierce landscapes, in wilderness spaces that David heard the powerful and majestic voice of the Holy One calling, that caused him to stop, listen, hear, and worship.

How is the voice of God heard today? or is it silent? or is the voice of God heard better in silence?  Is the voice of God heard only through Holy Scripture or through ordained clergy or institutions of religion?  Does God speak in English or Greek or Hebrew?  Is God limited to words?  Does God need a speech translator?  With the cacophony of sounds and voices that bombard our hearing how is one to decipher the voice of God from all other voices calling out to us?

The lectionary readings for this day all share hearing the voice of God in spaces outdoors, away from the usual noise, in the wildness and wilderness places of life resonates well with me.  Another song of David reminds us that, the heavens are telling the glory of God, the sky itself proclaims God’s handiwork.  Day to day pours forth speech and night to night declares knowledge.  There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.  (Psalm 19)  I hear the voice of God in the still darkness of the night, in the full moon that baths the woods with light, in crisp fresh wind, in the first light of dawn and the rising of the sun, bird call and rich fragrance of decaying leaves, in the snow fleas and pounding waves, in first buds of spring and winter’s snowy blanket, in hoar frost, and rivers.  All the natural world speaks of God and for God.  It is the voice of God calling forth life and beauty and inviting our attention.  What is more delightful than the Holy One calling to us in all creation speaking words of wisdom, a delightful invitation for us to listen and hear and respond. This is the first epiphany of God. And yes, in the landfills and garbage piles, in oil spills, in depleted and contaminated aquifers, in mercury-laced fish, polar ice melts, smog alerts, and species now extinct, even there the voice of God speaks.  Where isn’t the voice of God speaking?                        

What is more delightful than the Holy One calling to us? I believe what is more delightful is that the Holy One is heard, that there are holy listeners waiting for and anticipating the voice of God.  Elijah the prophet heard God in the sound of sheer silence because he was expecting to hear God.  Perhaps our 21^st century problem is that we don’t expect to hear much from God anymore.  We don’t listen for voices, and people who hear mysterious voices are suspect.  We no longer anticipate that we may encounter God whenever and wherever we are and through whoever cross our path.

I trust that God’s voice can still be heard if we open the ears of our hearts and minds, and have the eyes to see that the Holy One is everywhere, calling life into being, calling for love.  In the garden and the workshop, on Capitol Hill and the homeless shelter, on the highest peaks and oceans depths, in rocks and artistic masterpieces, in music and dance, in the local news flash and the World News Tonight, in the CIA and in Greenpeace God is speaking still.  The question is, are we listening?  Or, is the volume too high in all the noises of our devices of communication and of our endless talking that we have developed a hearing loss?

It use to be before the digital and push button age that you had to tune-in to a radio station, adjusting the dial to hear clearly.  You had to twist and bend the TV antennae for clear sight and sound.  Sometimes, you had to work hard, listening carefully, in order to hear correctly.  Today we don’t want to work that hard.  We practice tuning out what we don’t want to hear or put on head phones to block any sound but what we’ve chosen. 

In the midst of all the sounds and noises around us and within us, may we begin to listen again, anticipating the voice of the Holy One calling to all to life.  May we hear that we are beloved and that our live are pleasing to the Giver of Life.  May we respond to the Breath of Life that wills us into becoming.  Joining the great symphony of life may we join in the voices of all the earth and share in calling forth wondrous life as well.  May we hear and delight in the voice of the Holy One calling to us in each moment.