Good Friday - To Be Ever More Mindful

Little sweetheart, one of the most resonant readings in the Good Friday service I watched this afternoon from Grace Church was an excerpt from something called “God’s Daring Plan” - from a book called “Bread of Angels” by Barbara Brown Taylor. The passage was incredibly original and intensely moving and I went looking for more information about its author soon after.

The author was an Episcopal priest and her stories began as a collection of some of her absolutely breathtaking sermons. “Bread of Angels” weaves its way through the stories of the Bible with insightful scholarship, humor and directness, using language both conversationally and brilliantly.

The excerpt read last night from a chapter highly regarded as the very center of the book itself is called, as I said above, little sweetheart, “God’s Daring Plan”. The full passage takes one from creation and Eden all the way up to there Incarnation. It’s absolutely wonderful. I didn’t get to read it in full until just now. Last night there was just this short bit, that even reading aloud now, makes me start to cry. It reads thus:

“He had made them, it was true, and he knew how fragile they were, but their very breakability made them more touching to him, somehow. It was not long before God found himself falling in love with them. He liked being with them better than any of the other creatures he had made, and he especially liked walking with them in the garden in the cool of the evening. It almost broke God’s heart when they got together behind his back, did the one thing he had asked them not to do and then hid from him – from him! – while he searched the garden until way past dark, calling their names over and over again. Things were different after that. God still loved the human creatures best of all, but the attraction was not mutual. Birds were crazy about God, especially ruby-throated hummingbirds. Dolphins and raccoons could not get enough of him, but human beings had other things on their minds. They were busy learning how to make things, grow things, buy things, sell things, and the more they learned to do for themselves, the less they depended on God. Night after night he threw pebbles at their windows, inviting them to go for a walk with him, but they said they were sorry, they were busy.”

There’s something in regret, little sweetheart, in remembering all my mistakes, that makes me long ever more for you and just always to do better. And I think there’s something in this passage too about thinking we have time - the Buddha’s famous caution. May I listen quietly and remember and hear you as you guide me through my days. How very much I love you. How very grateful I am. With all my love forever.