...like only a two-year-old can!

There were no more than twenty people in St. Nicholas Orthodox Church tonight for Vespers.  Most were in the choir; two were clergy leading the service, but two families were there, each with a little girl who was probably no more than two-years-old.  I watched as the little ones first saw each other, and ran toward each other into great big full body hugs (as only two-year-olds can).  They held hands and moved between the standing adults - weaving back and forth between their families.  The air was thick with incense and the pace and intensity of the choir was increasing.  As the crescendo of worship continued to build, so did their excitement...until they started to dance (the way only two-year- olds can).  And could they dance!  Then they grabbed hands and started spinning in a circle, all while the music carried them towards heaven.  Finally they dropped to the ground and laid on their backs looking up at the beautiful icon on the ceiling, as the choir sang praise to God and the phrase "treasure of heaven."  Ah - to see the treasure of heaven in our midst!  Such beauty - such joy - no wonder Jesus said we must come to God's realm like a child!

It was a wonderful week, filled with great intensity and gentleness, academic stretching (I never thought I'd be reading Calvin and Rahner again), wonderful more contemporary authors to read and thought-provoking lectures to attend (with the occasional longing for a nap), and small group sessions that uncover our every gift and flaw.  Each flaw uncovered is an opportunity for learning, and held gently and lovingly by the surrounding community.  When approached with such love, it is possible to be vulnerable.  And possible to grow in deep and unexpected ways.  Community makes such a difference!

Chapel has been amazing, and is always my favorite part of being here.  We are reading Mark 6: 32-50 - one verse at a time.  Yes, one verse at a time.  We hear the verse in the morning and have 10 minutes of silence to contemplate the verse, then it lives on in us throughout the day.  We come back to chapel in the evening and hear it again, with a few words of reflection by our Chaplain.  Then we sit with it in silence again.   During the day the verse stretches and grows, and sometimes it dances and spins.  Even when I think the verse has nothing to say to me, it will catch me by surprise in an unexpected moment of clarity and insight - Lectio Divina at its finest!  And what we are hearing in chapel ties into our course work, with at least a half dozen of my colleagues saying to me: "I can't believe how worship and our course work is tying into the issues I brought from my parish - the things that are stirring in my heart.  How did they know?"  And all the issues are different, as are all my colleagues, and yet...somehow...we are all being fed.  There is more than enough here in this lonely, deserted place where we came away from the busyness of vocation to have some time alone with God.  And even with the demands of the "intensive," we are all being fed by the "hunger that feeds us."

 I stand awed by the Mystery, and dance in my heart like only a two-year-old can!

With love and deep gratitude,
Kim