Lenten Calendar: Hiding

Today’s lectionary psalm is Psalm 32 – a maskil, or contemplative psalm imparting wisdom. It deals in visceral images of the pain and futility of trying to hide our dark secrets from God.

When I kept silent,
    my bones wasted away
    through my groaning all day long.
For day and night
    your hand was heavy on me;
my strength was sapped
    as in the heat of summer.

This oppressive feeling of guilt and shame lifts completely after coming clean with God, but then this psalm we’re supposed to think about and learn from does a funny thing. Just after busting the myth that we can hide from God, it refers to God as a hiding place. Obviously not from God, but from those who would punish us for giving up our pretense and deceit. God’s presence is the safest place to be our whole selves.

La Voix du sang Magritte

La Voix du sang by René Magritte

The lyrics to Our Lady Peace’s “Hiding Place” echo those of the psalm…

Have you seen what I saw
The sky came down from afar?

Have you been there before
That place where hearts’re reborn?

I’m looking for a place to go
I’m waiting on another
Hiding place for hearts

Have you dreamed of a world
Where armor sheaths your bones?

Have you ransomed your soul
To pay for all that you’ve got wrong?

Never give up

… and the video evokes the feelings of danger and safety.

 

Advent Again – Day 3

What are you waiting for?

from “I Am Waiting” by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossed

and I am anxiously waiting

for the secret of eternal life to be discovered

by an obscure general practitioner

and I am waiting

for the storms of life

to be over

and I am waiting

to set sail for happiness

and I am waiting

for a reconstructed Mayflower

to reach America

with its picture story and tv rights

sold in advance to the natives

and I am waiting

for the lost music to sound again

in the Lost Continent

in a new rebirth of wonder

 

I am waiting for the day

that maketh all things clear

and I am awaiting retribution

for what America did

to Tom Sawyer

and I am waiting

for Alice in Wonderland

to retransmit to me

her total dream of innocence

and I am waiting

for Childe Roland to come

to the final darkest tower

and I am waiting

for Aphrodite

to grow live arms

at a final disarmament conference

in a new rebirth of wonder

 

I am waiting

to get some intimations

of immortality

by recollecting my early childhood

and I am waiting

for the green mornings to come again

youth’s dumb green fields come back again

and I am waiting

for some strains of unpremeditated art

to shake my typewriter

magritte-la-clairvoyance

“La Clairvoyance” by René Magritte

 

and I am waiting to write

the great indelible poem

and I am waiting

for the last long careless rapture

and I am perpetually waiting

for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn

to catch each other up at last

and embrace

and I am awaiting

perpetually and forever

a renaissance of wonder