Meditation – Rumours

Below is a meditation by Chris Goan via Twelvebaskets which is designed to be set up as twelve “stations” in an outside space. Although it could work for people prior to entering a worship space or in anticipation of a “holy moment”. Yet it could equally be used as a morning devotion in anticipation of meeting “Him” in the people you see that day.

There are rumours-
Like smoke signals blurred in desert wind They say

He is here

Not in metaphor
Not whipped up in the collective madness of charismata
Not just politely suggested by the high drama of religious ritual-


With mud on his shoes

Should I hide?

Should I stay in a fold of ground
And hope he does not walk my way?

I could never meet his eye
Knowing that the hidden parts of me will be Wide open

How do I prepare?

I have no fine things-
No fine words
My shield of sophistication Is broken

I am soft flesh laid bare
I am a fanfare to repeated failure

I am herald only to this Hopeless

But this King wears no stately form Wants no majesty

He walks gently
And has a humble heart

And he is- Here

Put down those things you carry Sit with me a while
Stop making things so complicated It is much simpler than that

Start from where you are
Not where you would like to be
Not where others say you should be
There may come a time
When I will warm your heart towards a new thing

But right now
I just want to warm your heart

It is not for you to cut a way into the undergrowth Or make a road into the rocky places
Rather let us just walk
And see were this path will lead us
You and I

All around you is beauty See it

Smell it
Feel it falling like manna

Look for softness in your heart There I am
Look for tenderness
And it will be my Spirit
Calling you to community

My yolk rests easy If you will wear it

And my burdens lie soft on the shoulders If you will lift them

You are wrapped up in me And I am bound up in you

We are held together by soft bindings Like tender shoot and stake
Like mud and gentle rain
Like worn shoe and weary foot

Like tea and pot

Like universe and stars
Like ocean and rolling wave
Like fields and each blade of grass

There is now
And there is our still-to-come


And he was gone-
But still I am not alone
The Spirit is stirring the waters


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