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The angel of the Lord appeared
to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing,
yet it was not consumed. Then
Moses said, ‘I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the
bush is not burned up.’ When the Lord saw
that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses,
Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’ Then
he said, ‘Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on
which you are standing is holy ground.’
Holy
ground
Ginny knew.
She saw, and I loved her for it.
There was a
day in October when I visited her at Tabor Hills where she was recovering and building
her strength. She sat in her chair and looked out a west window on a sun-kissed
day. The late afternoon sun lit a million golden leaves in the full flush of
color, alive with a beauty beyond the capacity of any human artist to paint.
Seeing the
light and color, she struggled for words to describe what she saw, not just out
her window but in the depth of her heart, “I don’t know how to say what I
feel.”
But she
continued in words that revealed a mystic intuition. Hers was a heart and mind
aware that her life and the life of that tree sprang from a Source more loving
and beautiful than she could say. She knew both she and that tree … and all
that is … are breathed into existence by a Love, a Source, a Mystery that is
beautiful and bountiful and beyond her capacity to name.
She knew …
the golden flush of leaves, so vibrant and alive, were singing the praise of
God and inviting her to feel that same song in the depth of her heart … that
she might sing along.
She knew …
everything she saw out her west window was holy ground, just as surely as Moses
did as he stood before his burning bush.
We talked,
and I knew Ginny better that day than any other. She had a knowing heart. The
eyes of her soul saw beyond the trees, the light and color. She saw beneath the
surface of things and knew the One, the Loving Mystery we call God in the depth
of what she saw.
As we
talked, the 30 years between us melted away. Our conversation became an
expression of that Beyond, that Love speaking to Ginny in the golden leaves and
the depth of her soul.
We
celebrated communion that day. As always, Ginny held out her hand to receive
the body of Christ, telling me again that she would receive communion every day
if someone would bring it to her.
Holding the
bread in her hand, she knew she held the Love who spoke to her in the western
trees, in her secret soul and in this body and blood of Christ. She was holding
the Love that was the Source of her soul, a Love she could no more describe
than we could find words that captured the golden light that held us in a holy
embrace.
Ginny knew
what Moses in ancient times knew as he took off his shoes. She understood what
old Simeon felt the day in the temple when he held the infant Christ in his
hands. She knew … she stood on holy ground. She knew she held this holiness,
this Love Mystery and Blessed Source in the depth of her soul.
She knew she
held the Love who had held her every day of her life … and holds her now.
And I loved
her for who she is, for what she saw and for taking the chance to talk to me,
fumbling for words to describe the presence of God she felt and saw with the
eyes of her soul.
The best of
all she is flowed from that soul—her beautiful voice, her creativity and
artistic eye, her love for her family and friends.
In seeing, she
shined with the light of God that spoke to her from every leaf on the golden
oak that graced her window.
Now, she
sees face-to-face. She stands in the presence of the Loving Mystery who spoke
to her on that golden autumn day. And she has joined the song of leaves, the
anthem of the saints, praising the Love who holds all of us ... now and forever.
Pr. David L.
Miller
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