I joined the Colleagues group at Bethany House of Prayer more than 20 years ago drawn to the value placed on poetry and art as cherished pillars of our identity, and woven into our founding charism. Anchored in the exquisite stained glass, stone and
choir stalls of the century-old chapel that visitors see when they arrive for a retreat or Evening Eucharist, we have consistently created for all who come to us beautiful programs rich with poems, reflections and artwork. When COVID forced us online, we continued to emphasize nourishing contemplative art digitally, during our Evening Contemplative Practice, Evening Eucharist and Contemplative Prayer programs.
Many at Bethany House – Colleagues, members of the Board, Sisters — are makers of art. We understand art as a sacred practice, whether we write poems, paint, take photographs, dance or make collages. Art-making requires the attentiveness,
receptivity, and practice that dwell at the heart of all holy work. When we open
ourselves to the tender lessons of ordinary life– spiders, fallow winter fields, a folk song, the words of others, and of course, Scripture — we grow beyond our smaller selves into beings with depth and range, able to engage creatively and constructively with the life around us.
Mary Oliver, as always, expresses this outflow of love and longing in a stanza of her
poem, “On Thy Wondrous Works I Will Meditate:”
Every morning I want to kneel down on the golden
cloth of the sand and say
some kind of musical thanks for
the world that is happening again – another day –
from the shawl of wind coming out of the
west to the firm green
flesh of the melon lately sliced open and
eaten, its chill and ample body
flavored with mercy. I want
to be worthy of – what? Glory? Yes, unimaginable glory.
O Lord of melons, of mercy, though I am
not ready, nor worthy, I am climbing toward you.
THIRST
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