Perhaps it's only when we let go of who and what our loved one was that we can receive who they are now.
Season after Pentecost | 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year B)
2 Samuel 7:1-14a; Psalm 89:20-37; (Jeremiah 23:1-6; Psalm 23;) Ephesians 2:11-22; Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
God’s word to Nathan and Gabriel’s word to Mary hold a tension that’s at the heart of biblical faith.
by Wes AvramDecember 9, 2014
In the summer we usually make a pilgrimage of sorts to visit family in Minnesota lake country. I generally think at least once on such a trip—usually while sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake—“I wish I could just stay here forever.” Rest and vacation are good things.
It’s the second movement of Leonard Bernstein’s choral work, Chichester Psalms. A boy soprano (or a countertenor), in the “role” of the shepherd boy, David, sings in Hebrew the opening verses of Psalm 23. He is accompanied–sparingly, fittingly–by the harp. The first several measures are tender but not tentative; filled with sentiment, but without sentimentality (this per Bernstein’s instructions). When the women’s voices take over the text at גַּם כִּי־אֵלֵךְ בְּגֵיא צַלְמָוֶת . . . (Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . .) there’s an ethereal echo-canon effect. This part of the movement, when executed well, is something sublime.
Christ "has broken down the dividing wall. . . . that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it."