The Glorious New Creation
"For I am about to create
new heavens
and a
new earth;
the former things shall not be
remembered
or come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I am creating;
for I am about to create
Jerusalem as a joy,
and its people as a delight.
I will rejoice in Jerusalem,
and delight in my people;
no more shall the sound of
weeping be heard in it,
or the cry of distress." Is 65:17-19 (NRSV)
and you shall be called,
“Sought Out,
A City Not Forsaken.” Is 62:12b (NRSV)
Selah (Ps 46, 48)
"Lord, you have been our
dwelling place
in all generations.
Before the mountains were
brought forth,
or ever you had formed the earth and the
world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are
God.
You turn us back to dust,
and say, “Turn back, you mortals.”
For a thousand years in your
sight
are like yesterday when it is past,
or like a watch in the night.
You sweep them away; they are
like a dream,
like grass that is renewed in the morning;
in the morning it flourishes
and is renewed;
in the evening it fades and withers."
Ps 90: 1-6 (NRSV)
I am learning, as we all do in
different stages and moments in life, there will always be an after. After
baptism, after the baby was born, they didn't make it, after their death, after
college, after the wedding, the accident, the sabbatical, ordination, entering
a community, and the list goes on and on. There will also be a time after
the pandemic, as we now know of life before the pandemic. We know this
before and after to be true, history is on our side and Scripture attests to
this truth, "Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had
formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
You turn us back to dust, and say, “Turn back, you mortals.” For a thousand
years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, or like a watch in the
night." This momentary, seemingly endless, relentless, moment is still
a moment, just one, in this vast expanse we know as time. It is comforting,
grounding, to hear that we are not the only ones searching for home, the place
where we belong. Long have we, frail humans, dwelt with the Holy One, for
generations, even. I live in the shelter and shadow of mountains and to
contemplate the knowing and glory of God to be before the mountains were
brought forth is an incredible mystery and reality. And to be returned to
the same dust as these mountains brings memory to the fibers in my being,
rooting me to these mountains as a temporary, earthly being much like this
pandemic and year. 2020, at the end of this very day, has ended, and there will
be an after just as there was before.
A few short days ago, we celebrated Christmas, the birth of the long-awaited Saviour, and the return to longer, brighter days. I write this reflection in the week before Christmas, and the winter solstice, so the days are indeed still darkening and winter is still rolling in, but the sun (glorious sun!) has made an appearance for the first time in days to offer a blessed, small, reprieve to my soul (a/n: not just mine of course). The long days of Advent are over. This short season in the liturgical year pivots us to the beginning of the rest of our eternal lives with Christ in the birth of Jesus. Like this sun over the valley, brighter days are ahead, when, or how they are about to come about is unknown, but the Light we cling to at Christmas is the being with tiny breaths held at the breast of Mary, Emmanuel. God is with us and has been before us and will be long after us. We have been sought out in creation, formed, and known from the womb of the earth, and somehow, in some time "no more shall the sound of weeping be heard". May we be like grass renewed in the morning, may we be reminded that we will fade and wither, and through it all, You are God, from everlasting to everlasting. Selah.
May we, I, seek this glorious new creation. Christ has been born in Bethlehem, the city of David. Let us continue to keep watch through this night for there will be rejoicing in the morning. Alleluia.
