Some of us feel guilty and inadequate when we simply can’t find the time to take the “time to be holy, speak oft with thy Lord…” as one old hymn suggests. My quiet moments of solitude, which, in any given decade, are few and far between, are very seldom intentional ones. They happen in a more serendipity fashion when I’m preoccupied with other things less holier than thine.
The world in which I live and move and have my being doesn’t have a pause button. Time is like an ever-rolling stream, and each day brings an ever-loving load of things to do. I’ve come to love all the moving parts, the motion and the commotion. So for me, every moment becomes a chance to do something, even if it’s wrong. Even if it’s trivial. There’s no way this soul of mine can be still for long. I’m a busy fellow who doesn’t have a prayer for finding time for meditative moments. However, maybe in the unstructured noises some of us can discover the Holy in the sheer energy of daily motion. We might discover the stardust beneath us when we finally stumble into some of it accidently.
Or we just might discover holiness in other people, like Martin Buber suggests in his book, I and Thou. Or like Jacob on the day he was reconciled with his brother Esau: “…to see your face is like seeing the face of God…” Or as Victor Hugo put it on the barricades of the French Revolution: “To love another person is to see the face of God.”
“Holy Moses” might be a powerful expletive, but it is almost a misnomer. Out there with the bleating sheep, a man with a warrant on his head for murder one. His refuge is his work for his father-in-law. Out there keeping watch over that blasted flock by day and night. Not looking for trouble. Not looking for God either. In fact, trying to become incognito. Then out of his peripheral vision he sees what seems to be God, who is also incognito as a burning asbestos bush. Suddenly for Moses, holy ground is right under his sandals where he is minding his own business. Without taking time to be holy, the Holy One of Israel slipped into his schedule and asked Moses to take off his shoes to better feel the stardust beneath his whole body. Busy as a bee and suddenly the whole world is a beehive of activity that becomes, in the words of the Jesuit poet, “charged with the grandeur of God.”
It may be worth noting that our generation came of age in the ’60’s, which was a time tilted more to action than to contemplation. Concepts like spirituality and roles of spiritual directors were foreign to us–and, in my case, still are. Even when we have the time to be holy, we aren’t sure how to be holy, or even whether we want to be holy. Given who we have been, and who we are, our trust is in a merciful God with a sense of humor.
You hit that nail on the head. It was our upbringing and seminary stuff that put us in the action category. And the time of the sixties and seventies certainly encouraged us to act out our theologies.
Thanks
Good one………Dudley
Thanks for the feedback, o holy one of Memphis.
Thank you Dudley for your beautiful insight
I like having a reason that I don’t slow down to smell the roses or be holy. I was born in the wrong era. My busyness feels holier already. Thanks.