My father is a very recently retired United Methodist minister, and he sent this to my brother and me Christmas morning. It reads as poetry, and also like the terse outlines from which he gave his hundreds of weekly sermons. I asked him if I could share them with profligategrace readers, this Second Day of Christmas. – ALH
A few thoughts over breakfast.
1 Kings 17. The Ravens, God told Elijah, would feed him bread and meat. Elijah went on this assurance. As simple as that for him. Believing that a bird could be told what to do.
Landing on his shoulder and waiting for Elijah to take it from his beak.
Coincidence: In “It’s a Wonderful Life,” a raven inhabits the Building and Loan. George, a good man, at war with the evil, greedy banker. Raven flapping, flying, perching, cawing.
Why a Raven? Old Elijah’s story travels. No sentimentalized version of this miracle/legend. Just trust, hope, stay the course, obey, take sustenance as it comes.
Give us this day our daily bread. However it comes and by whomever. Whirling, moving creation, like tiny ants we inhabit this little sphere.
Provided for. Some can only wait for the promised ravens. Some of us are piggish and store away the bread and meat, stolen from those who can only hope and pray.
And yet we say, Come, Lord! Whenever. Meanwhile: Ravens with full beaks, for every thing which takes breath, carbon based vulnerable ones. And bread and meat for soul as well. Can’t survive without both.
Visible and invisible provisions.