Tuesday, November 16, 2021                       (today’s lectionary)
All day singing around the throne
When I lie down in sleep, I wake again, for the Lord sustains me.
It happened again this morning. I woke again. The gratitude I feel depends, of course, on how much I take this for granted. It’s happened time after time for 72 years (tomorrow).
The Lord in his holy knowledge knows full well that, although I could have escaped death, I am not only enduring terrible pain in my body from this scourging, but also suffering it with joy in my soul because of my devotion to him. This is how he died, a model of courage and virtue for the whole nation.
That was Eleazar talking “under the blows.” He was no longer taking anything for granted. When Margaret was sick unto death this summer, she felt that way and said so. When Mom died a week ago tomorrow, her spirit soared like Eleazar’s. Joy in the soul, joy in the morning. Mom died around 9 a.m. Now, in another new morning, the sun shines, the air is crisp and collected, and I wake again, for the Lord sustains me. What happens next, Lord?
You O Lord are my shield, my glory, and you lift up my head. When I call out you answer me from your holy mountain.
We are traveling today, back to Illinois, back to our home in Urbana, back to Lincoln on Thursday. Our friends and family, we set ourselves the task of laying Mom to rest, but what? She’s already there. It’s us who need to rest. When I call out, you answer me. When I awake, you sustain me. Believe this deep down in your soul – David, Mary Kay, John, all of you. We love you, Mom. Show us your face, Lord. We believe in you. Let our words have wings, and give us wings ourselves, so we can fly and fly away, off the wires of our grief, doubt and sometime despair, into the deep blue November sky. We look up, and the earth is new every morning. Including this one. In your mercy, Lord.
Today salvation has come to this house. The Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.
Jesus doesn’t miss a beat. He saw Zacchaeus up there in that tree, that descendant of Abraham watching him walk below him. “Zacchaeus, you come down! For I’m going to your house today.” The disciples grumbled. Just a little change of plans, guys. We’ll be fine. Yesterday a funeral, today a feast. All the folks around the throne, singing.
There’s no hurry, as the Lord impels us to open our mouths and lift our voices. We have more than enough. Our hope is built on nothing less. We’ll join up and sing with Eleazar and Zacchaeus, and all those grumpy disciples and their wives, such a chorus that builds upon itself as Jesus wields the orchestral baton, and the birds of heaven, flying by, stop and join us. Oh, the sounds of heaven.
(2 Maccabees 6, Psalm 3, 1 John 4, Luke 19)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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