LAYING MY HEAD ON THE SPIRIT'S SHOULDER



For worship on Trinity Sunday, I'd asked our AV folks to project the image of Rublev's Trinity onto the two screens that are behind me as I face the congregation to preach.  For decades I've referred to it as my 'favorite' sacred image.  Having been raised Catholic, I was not as adverse to sacred images as some Protestants-who misunderstanding, thought people worshiped the icon iteself, rather than what it represented. We're often afraid of what we do not understand.

Last night as we prepared to enter a weekend of silence, one of our presentations was on the history and use of icons in prayer.  Part of the library was draped in beautiful deep fabrics and five icons were placed on small tables, surrounded by candles and a few scattered chairs.  As we walked from image to image we learned its history, some scholary insights and were invited to return and pray with these images in our 48 hour silence. Not surprisingly, one of the icons was the one above.  Hmm.

This morning I had intended to simply go downstairs to get something hot to drink and come back up to my room.  But the sun was not quite up yet...and I knew those icons were in the library in the basement.  I stopped first at the modern icon "Compassion Mandala" and although I am intrigued by the form...I had no connection to it.  I passed by the icon I sat with briefly last night, "Sinai Christ", which I feel has something more to say to me.  I  passed by the icon of the child Jesus in his mothers arms; finally coming to sit before my old friend above.

It's said of icons that they are not painted, but written...that they have something to speak to us. In the silence I listened and I heard some familiar things from this old friend.  At one point I tilted my head in the same way as the figure on the right (Holy Spirit) and the figure behind the table (the Christ)...toward the figure on the left (God the Father) dressed in gold. I sat that way for a long while eyes closed touched deeply to be in this circle.

Once more I opened my eyes and in a while was drawn to the Spirit image.  I readjusted my body,  slightly tilted my head, eyes now closed and felt as if I'd layed my head on the Spirit's shoulder.  So much so that after a few minutes it felt as though I could feel the warmth of the Spirit's body on my cheek--and that the sounds in my right ear were muffled from being against the Spirit's form.  I rested there for I don't know how long in wonder--intermittently tears flowed silently down my face.

I can't explain to you what happened in the sacred place inside of me where the image of God resides, during this intimate prayer time. You have that sacred place inside of you too.  I can only offer to you what happened on the outside.  My hunch is in the days, weeks, months and years ahead - I'll reap the fruit of laying my head on the Holy Spirit and resting there a little while.
BLESSINGS AND JOY TO YOU, Kathleen Bronagh Weller-THE CELTIC MONK    

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