Disciplina

I'm trying something new.

You know how all those Baptists et alii will tell you really need to read your Bible every day and pray?

I got sidetracked by how often that's used to tweak the guilt church people often have.

So I've never actually done that as an intentional, consistent part of my life (qua how I use my time). What I've been discovering is that contact with God isn't a part of life, it is life (qua zoe, authentic, good, from the heart outward life).

The format I'm using is SOAP.

S Scripture
O Obsevation
A Analysis
P Prayer

You could substiture the S with Start easily; last Monday I could have easily written something good in this format starting with the Big Kahuna; today I could have done it with Cowboy Feng's Space Bar and Grill.

I think I'll mostly start with the lectionary from an Episcopal Book of Common Prayer I've been using.

I won't post every day. I'm going to be culling among what I generate every week, based on comfort/trust/privacy/safety then quality.

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[For historical purposes, to show that one can beceome a better rhetor, the following is how I originally worded this post:

As a disciple I must learn from the Master, the Magister.

I learn from Him by drawing near to Him.

I draw near to Him by remembering Him, listening to Him, loving Him, longing for Him, enjoying Him, trusting Him, and believing His Best (which is the Best).

I remember Him in His Word.

Thus do I begin, what He has already begun, what was old when the world was new.

Are you glad I let most of my work settle before posting?]

The Triumphal Entry

This is it. Can you sense the it? The excitement? It's here. This is the coming of the King. All the promises will be fulfilled. All the wounds will be bound up--the imprisoned set free--the blind will see.

May we sense the wonder of it all. May we yearn to know the story in full. May our hearts give us no ease in mere good: may we embrace longing for the Best.

Amen.

Come.

Now Aragorn knelt beside Faramir, and held a hand upon his brow. And those that watched felt some great struggle was going on. For Aragorn's face grew grey with weariness; and ever and anon he called the name of Faramir, but each time more faintly to their hearing, as if Aragorn himself was removed from them, and walked afar in some dark vale, calling for one who was lost.

And at last Bergil cam running in, and he bore six leaves in a cloth. "It is kingsfoil, Sir," he said; "but not fresh, I fear. It must have been culled two weeks ago at the least. I hope it will serve, Sir?" Then looking at Faramir he burst into tears.

But Aragorn smiled. "It will serve," he said. "The worst is now over. Stay and be comforted!" Then taking two leaves, he laid them on his hands and breathed on them, and then he crushed them, and straightaway a living freshness filled the room, as if the air itself awoke and tingled, sparkling with joy. And then he cast the leaves into the bowls of steaming water that were brought to him, and at once all hearts were lightened. For the fragrance that came to each was like a memory of dewy mornings of unshadowed sun in some land of which the fair world in Spring itself is but a fleeting memory. But Aragorn stood up as one refreshed, and and his eyes smiled as he held a bowl before Faramir's dreaming face.

" Well now! Who would have believed it?" said Ioreth to a woman that stood beside her. " the weed is better than I thought. It reminds me of the roses of Imloth Melui when I was a lass, and no king could ask for better."

"Suddenly Faramir stirred, and he opened his eyes, and he look on Aragorn who bent over him; and a light of knowledge and love was kindled in his eyes, and he spoke softly. "My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?"

"Walk no more in the shadows, but awake!" said Aragorn. "You are weary. Rest a while, and take food, and be ready when I return."

"I will, lord," said Faramir. "For who would lie idle when the king has returned?"


The Houses of Healing (8)
The Return of the King (3)
The Lord of the Rings
J. R. R. Tolkien