Wings

Jesus ... withdrew privately to a city called Bethsaida. When the crowds found out about it, they followed him; and he welcomed them, and spoke to them about the kingdom of God, and healed those who needed to be cured. (Luke 9:10b-11)

There is much to love here, much to see, to hear and feel. Crowds gather. They push close, his arms extend in welcome. Perhaps we, too, can lean near and catch the voice of welcome for which our wounded hearts ache.

Jesus sits, as ancient rabbis often did, to teach those who drew near. He speaks to them of the kingdom, which invites our imaginations. What did he tell them? How did he sound? I imagine a quiet voice, unhurried, earnest, speaking from a depth not of learning but of soul, words flowing from loving communion with the Mystery he knows within himself.

He speaks of a kingdom where the poor are blessed and the merciful find mercy, where peacemakers are honored and wounded hearts are consoled. It’s a kingdom planted in the earth like a seed that grows immeasurably large with innumerable branches, giving home and shelter to souls whose labors wear them weary.

Jesus tells them of a kingdom ruled by the Love he knows in the depth of his soul, the Love who possesses his heart and bids him speak.

His words lift them into a world being born, into a reality that is always present but never fully so, a world wonderfully alive in every mercy and care and in every decision to carry on when life is hard and hope elusive.

His words awaken their hearts. For in spite of everything that is ugly and wrong, we live in a world of grace that sweeps our hearts away in startling moments when sweet oneness with our gorgeous little planet fills us with joy and the Love who is mysteriously and unmistakable alive within us.

Jesus spoke to them about God’s kingdom, and in his presence the wonder of Love’s immensity came to them that they might know the deep hunger of their hearts is not an illusion but the savor of all God will do.

Little wonder that crowds gathered around him or that we, in faith or doubt, continue to be drawn, hoping to hear his voice that our souls might sprout wings and rise into the Love who makes all things new.

David L. Miller