Tender Calling
“You will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”
Blake’s image of God blessing the Sabbath day is strangely beautiful. God sits enthroned in his utter aseity: completely sufficient in himself, surrounded by a patina of angels who at once are facing outward with an intense energy, but at the same time, can’t seem to escape the gravity of the Ancient of Days. The Creator’s expression is impassive, yet somehow compassionate. There’s a blush of red in his cheeks, while the rest of the image is the grey light of divinity set against the background struggle between yellow and blue. His stare is deep and eternal. His arms are outstretched, extending his beneficence to all creation — but this gesture does not interrupt his posture of repose.
This vision of God serenely blessing creation evokes the spirit of our readings this week. In the stillness of the enthroned Lord we can sense the voice that called out to Samuel, patiently waiting for recognition. Those outstretched arms reminiscent of Christ on the cross recall God's tender pursuit of Nathanael, seen and known even in his doubt.
The Ancient of Days rests, his work complete, echoing the fulfillment proclaimed in John's Gospel: "We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote." Yet even in repose God inclines toward his creation, blessing it, just as the psalmist declares "My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me."
The blush of compassion in God's cheeks speaks to the intimacy of the incarnation - the Word who entered creation, calling us to "Come and see." The eyes which penetrate yet welcome reflect the grace of being known as "an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!"
In the still point of this image we can sense the steadfast love that called Samuel, claimed Nathanael, sustained the psalmist, and was perfectly embodied in Christ. May we too rest in God's tender grace, and hear anew his invitation to come to him.
For your loving-kindness is better than life itself; my lips shall praise you.
— Psalm 63:4
Second Sunday of Epiphany
Texts for this Week
Prayer
Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ is the light of the world: Grant that your people, illumined by your Word and Sacraments, may shine with the radiance of Christ’s glory, that he may be known, worshiped, and obeyed to the ends of the earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, now and for ever.
God be merciful to us and bless us
Charles Ives was one of the great musical geniuses of the early 20th C: . His experimentation with atonal sonorities presage many of the innovations and developments that would come to the fore in 20th C classical music. But Ives was also a very local figure: firmly embodied in his Danbury Connecticut community, and composing music for local bands and churches.
His acapella arrangement of Psalm 67 is evocative and shimmering. Somehow, the diversity of tone clusters come together into an unusual cosmic harmony. It calls to mind the reality that our plea, “God be merciful to us and bless us” summons the divinity to have mercy on that which is perhaps properly unforgivable, and to bless that strangeness which is of itself perhaps not blessable. And yet, we cry out, and God responds, and we find continually his new every morning love and mercies.
