spotting myself

Saturday evening a new ship being moved by three tugs from the shipyard to the Port’s west terminal. Not a clear picture, but brightly colorful on the dark Bay, lights over the bridge looked like a Christmas tree.

Sundays, Linda fixes us a nice breakfast, today cheese-eggs, scrambled soft, half a tomato each, cut in chunks and cooked pan stovetop, thin WW toast. Coffee black, a mug of water with ice cubes. This morning we mused momentarily about what life would have been like if I had stayed in the Navy: no close friendship with an Episcopal bishop, no seminary, no ordination, not retired here in 7H. Looking back forty years, it’s easier to see the hand of God than it was looking ahead forty years ago. Do I really think God did this to me, for me? First question on my Theology 101 final: Who or What is God? 

My turn in the pulpit today, sermon will be posted early this afternoon.

We have interesting Bible readings for today, Advent One Year B. Can I find myself? Sure: not prepared, not ready, not awake. Maybe especially in Isaiah, chastened:  

Isaiah 64:1-9

O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,

so that the mountains would quake at your presence--

as when fire kindles brushwood

and the fire causes water to boil--

to make your name known to your adversaries,

so that the nations might tremble at your presence!

When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect,

you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.

From ages past no one has heard,

no ear has perceived,

no eye has seen any God besides you,

who works for those who wait for him.

You meet those who gladly do right,

those who remember you in your ways.

But you were angry, and we sinned;

because you hid yourself we transgressed.

We have all become like one who is unclean,

and all our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth.

We all fade like a leaf,

and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.

There is no one who calls on your name,

or attempts to take hold of you;

for you have hidden your face from us,

and have delivered us into the hand of our iniquity.

Yet, O Lord, you are our Father;

we are the clay, and you are our potter; 

we are all the work of your hand.

Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord,

and do not remember iniquity forever. 

Now consider, we are all your people.