Apparently that [brokenness] is the matter with which God works.

I wrote this on my blog a few days ago. I hadn't intended to say it. It was not a post about sacraments. Even in these weeks when our conservative friends remind us that some of us are not the proper matter for ordination or consecration... it just wasn't on my radar until I wrote it.

Been thinking about that. Brokenness is the matter with which God works. Our own brokenness is the matter of God's sacrament making.

Been thinking about that.

I have not left the Rublev… I find the person of The Holy Spirit difficult. I am also finding that I don’t want to close out my discussion of The Trinity and so I am just postponing it. I like thinking about it. I have the seeds of an idea I got from something I read of Moultmann the other day. I just want to let it simmer for awhile because it‘s not quite done yet.

Been thinking about other things:

“All things come of thee O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee…”

We say these words every Sunday as the offering and elements are brought forward and the saying is very much associated with those things. It’s as if in our minds we are saying, “All good things come of thee O Lord, and we’ve brought some of them here today.” And that is true. All good things DO come from the Lord. But, that’s not what we say is it? No, it is not. What we say is “All things… come of thee…” All things is a little different than all good things.

I know this family who are in a very bad situation. They have enjoyed a middle-class life and careers that they enjoyed and felt validated by. But, because of illness and a death it is pretty much falling apart. I mean comparable to Job. Really falling apart. So one of them said to me the other day that they know this is not from God because God just wouldn’t let things get like this.

And I’ve been thinking about that.

Obviously there are things going on that we do not know about. It is possible that this calamity is not from God. Job’s wasn’t... You know, entirely. So, I am open to that possibility. But, I am more in favor of the idea that it IS from God. And, I’ll tell you why. Two reasons:

• I believe that God is deliberate. God doesn’t just let things slip through the cracks and then, uh-oh the devil got through… No, it’s not like that. You are sealed as Christ’s own forever and the devil doesn’t get through. The end. Even in the case of Job, God was on the ball with it. God set the parameters. God had an objective.

• “…of Thine own have we given thee” can’t be just about the good things. If you think God desires your wealth you might want to think again. Nor is God overly impressed with bread and wine. God has plenty of both. We bring these things to God not because of what they are but as a symbol of offering our whole selves to God, our broken hearts and contrite spirits. That is the real offering.

God says we can keep all the other stuff as long as He can have our brokenness. Apparently that is the matter with which God works.

All things come of Thee O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.

As we accept God’s good gifts and blessings let us also accept and be thankful for those gifts which produce brokenness and contrition because they come from God too. And the good news is that God wants them back!

Give God your little dab of gold and wine if it makes you feel better. But, run, run to God with your offerings of pain and deep sorrow. Run to God in contrition and despairing. Run to God with the daily wounds of being human. Run to God and be healed… of everything.

Been thinking about that.

I continued thinking about the Rublev this morning. The character seated in the center is our brother Jesus.

Poor Jesus. I don’t know how he puts up with me. I am confused and unfocused most of the time. I can barely get through Lauds without thinking it’s a little boring. I only slog it out until Compline when I debate whether or not I’ve prayed enough for one lifetime. And, yet He can’t quite get rid of me.

Jesus, ever looking toward His Parent, is covered almost entirely in blue. He has put flesh all over himself. Had to do that in order to live among us I guess. His undergarment is the color of dust. The dust Adam was made from. It’s the dirty-red color of blood actually, perhaps indicating that Jesus knew what a bloody hard struggle the whole incarnate enterprise can be. The only indication of his Heavenly status is a little band of gold on the shoulder. It’s toward the Parent. Unobtrusive but clear.

In this icon, Jesus doesn’t have the traditional Trinitarian nimbus. Not necessary. There is the Parent and the Spirit right there with him.

Jesus has one hand on his staff, quite firmly. The other hand is on the table. In other words, while He has the full authority of the Parent, he also has a hand in the affairs of earth. The hand on the table is explaining His two natures. It may even be pointing to the chalice on the table, not sure. In any event, Jesus’ work is in Heaven and on earth.

One of the Oaks of Mamre is shown behind him. The tree he will die on? Maybe. Probably that is what Rublev intended. But, in a universe of possibilities, it might be another kind of tree.

• Maybe it’s the tree Zaccheus climbed up into, reminding us that those who seek will find. Even first century wheeler-dealers, taking from the government and from it’s citizens too, may truly find and know The Lord just by looking for Him. This is Jesus telling us not to be too judgmental about the rich corporate raiders who fill our white-collar prisons. Those are His friends. This is Jesus telling us that He is not too interested in the crowd but He seeks out the ones who seek Him.

• Or, could it be one of those Cedars of Lebanon? Jesus later replaces this image with an image of mere mustard weeds. Speaking to us of the reality of the Kingdom Of God, Jesus says forget the mighty cedars, rather be prepared to stick out like a weed in a perfectly manicured lawn. This is the Jesus who does not call us to greatness but to absurdity: We are to be peacemakers in a world of warriors, giving in a world of takers, meek in a world of the mighty.

• Could it be the tree that sweetened the waters at Marah? With all the bitterness in this world, from the tempest in my own heart to the wars raging across Africa and the Middle East, isn’t this a message we can all rejoice to hear? Even the bitterest waters may be made sweet again. There is hope that we will not die drowning in a sea of our own bitterness. It is possible that our bitterness can be made sweet again. I don’t know how. But, I have proof that it’s possible.

There are a lot of trees it could be. Just as there are a lot of things Jesus’ hands could be saying, his eyes, his clothes.

The point of being with an icon is not to determine what it is saying. Even in this little bit I feel I have stepped too far over the interpretative line. The point is just to be with the icon. How it works, why it moves the heart, I don’t know. I have no idea at all and I don’t know anyone else who knows either. And more and more it just doesn’t matter.

I’ve read that there’s some uncertainty over which of the three characters Rublev intended to represent God, The Parent. Perhaps as a testimony to my ignorance it is perfectly clear to me that the figure on the left represents The Parent.

You can see the icon here.

Each of the figures are wearing a blue garment. Blue, the color of this Earth our island home… The color blue connects them to the earth and to us. But, the figure on the left is mainly covered by an ethereal golden tunic. There’s just a sliver of blue in front and back. God The Parent works mainly in Heaven with its golden streets and angelic hosts. Earth is close to His heart but His duties are in Heaven.

He holds his Heavenly staff with both hands. This means that neither of His hands are on the table. God works in Heaven, not on Earth.

He is looking over at Jesus, in the center. Jesus is the hope for the world, all the cosmos, that is so close to His heart.

Just behind Him is a house filled with many mansions. One for me. I hope I’ll be in the gay section as I am getting bored with heterosexuals. There’s a mansion for everyone… And that brings me to what I’ve actually been thinking about today:

If God’s own self is a community, and one day we’ll all live together in Heaven, why is it that I desire only solitude?

Here’s another one:

Why is it that the more I am alone and silent, the more connected I am with the world?

I am starting to see most of my life as just a big distraction. My friends, my little activities, the committees which so bore me. It’s a big distraction.

When I am all involved in the world -- and it makes others so happy when I am involved in a way that pleases them -- it’s too easy to forget about the hungry family living underneath the bridge down the street. I forget that Albert needs underwear and sox. The homeless guy with a dog, I don’t even know his name, needs dog food. I forget to pray for those with AIDS, those who are afraid, the beaten and the beaten down, and the angry raging souls who do the beating. I forget the women crying out for justice which will not be granted, the children fighting to stay alive. I forget about all that.

I guess it’s a matter of which community I’m committed to.

Been thinking about that.

For Trinity Sunday, last week for the Orthodox and the week before for everybody else, I used the Rublev icon as my point of departure. I like having a picture, or some writing from one of the fathers, or even that wheel drawing… just anything. Otherwise, it’s too overwhelming for me.

But, this icon is more than a point of departure. For one thing, it’s an icon which is different from a drawing or something so I might have predicted that, lo these many days later, I’d still be thinking about it. But, this icon is more interesting than others. It’s as if it’s sacred quality is actually conveyed electronically. I made it the wallpaper on my computer. That’s how engaging it is.

The first thing we notice about this icon is that Rublev has eliminated any extra material. He didn’t even include Avraham and Sari. This icon is about the relationship of the members of the Trinity. THAT’s it’s story. In fact, if you don’t know that this icon is about the visitation at the Oaks of Mamre, you likely wouldn’t deduce it just from reading the icon itself. It’s a story about the unique gifts of each person of the Trinity and the intimate unity, a unity of intention and substance, in which such uniqueness functions.

Maybe tomorrow I will feel inclined to write more on this. Maybe not. In any event, I’ve left job and the role of experience in formation but will return to both later. I’m just going to be thinking about this icon for awhile.

I have been thinking about the role that experience has in forming my beliefs and practice. I had always dismissed it as a Wesleyan invention. Now I am reassessing.

If you’ll indulge me in a supersessionist moment…

I’ve been thinking about how Shavuot and Pentecost fall on the same day. God gives Himself in the Torah, then God gives Himself as Paraclete.

God as Torah flies back up into heaven after the little incident with the Golden calf, and comes back down as Torah. God in Jesus, who also calls himself paracletos, has gone back up into Heaven at Ascension, and now comes back down as Paraclete, the spirit. Just been thinking about that.

Also been thinking about the connection between Ascension and Pentecost. I’d never gotten this before but Ascension is about passing on the teachings. It’s a charge to followers of Jesus to continue the work by passing it along to others. And it is the job of the Holy Spirit to help us do it. The Holy Spirit is the first apostolo, being sent as a paracletos, defending, making a case… Thus empowering all of us to carry out the commission of Ascension. -- I’d just never before realized how connected those two things were.