A Little Silver Hammer

Today’s Readings for the Daily Office

Psalm 119:49-72 (Morning)
Psalm 49, [53] (Evening)
Ezra 6:1-22
Rev. 5:1-10
Matt. 13:10-17
 


A Little Silver Hammer

If you’re walking around with a hammer in your hand does everything look like a nail? If you’re meditating a lot does everything start to look like just another state of consciousness? In today’s reading the disciples ask Jesus why he talks in parables all the time. He responds with some weird saying about seeing but not seeing and hearing but not hearing. I meditate a lot so this sounds to me like he’s talking about states of consciousness. So was Jesus teaching his disciples how to pray? God, I hope so. And of course I mean that as a prayer. I am walking around with a hammer in my hand. Maxwell’s Little Silver Hammer. The Beatles were talking about meditating weren’t they? They were singing songs about waking up. Jesus was telling stories about waking up. So let’s all try waking up.

Thomas Keating in his book, Manifesting God, writes about how people talk about God as though He were somewhere else. God comes closer and goes further away. Or we come closer to God or then we go further away from God. Keating says, “God of course does not actually come closer; rather God’s actual closeness at all times and in every place begins to penetrate our ordinary consciousness. To live in the presence of God on a continuous basis can become a kind of fourth dimension to our three-dimensional world, forming an invisible but real background to everything that we do or that happens in our lives.”

We move through life thinking that we can really see the people around us. But in reality we’re just looking at our thoughts about those people. If we could stop thinking about people and just look at them perhaps we could really see them. And then perhaps our prayers for them would be simply about loving them and not about fixing them or changing them. We could look at people and see how beautiful they are instead of how wrong they are.

And so, once again, in the end we are left sitting in a room full of people perfectly capable of loving one another.
 


Written by Andrew Kilgore

I am a photographic artist living and working in Arkansas since 1971. I have a degree in philosophy and a year of seminary. I began with the intention of a life in ministry. I have ended up serving that ministry with a life full of pictures. Praise the lord!

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