Luke 19:40

Do You hear the stones cry out their praise?
Do You taste the steam as it rises from the melting snow, or feel the flashing wings of the hummingbird?

Do You see or smell, or is all that fleshly, embedded in the body?

Those trees outside -- are they as silent to You as they are to me? Or more so, since You have no ears to hear?

Perhaps You became flesh and dwelt among us not only for us, but for You, so that You could know Your creation in a new way.

For what are we, what are the stones or the snow or the hummingbird, but the product of Your immaterial hands, Your unbeating heart: wouldn't You want to feel the dirt under your knees as You prayed?

Wouldn't You long to touch the face of a child, or to crunch the fall leaves in Your hands?

Maybe we are Your eyes, Your hands, Your ears, not only because we have work to do in Your name, but also to share with You the beauty and tragedy and joy of all You have made.

Maybe we complete You.

Earthly hope

More than Obama's victory last night, more than the waves of young people and very old people standing on line to touch a screen or punch a ballot, I am moved by both candidates' speeches. McCain was gracious and unifying, silencing negative shouts. Obama was solemn, aware of the mantle being lowered onto his shoulders: humble, hopeful, and mindful of history. The Holy Spirit was moving, inspiring love, humility, and the "hunger and thirst for righteousness".

On 8, the writing of discrimination into the CA constitution: Remember that CA has the very best domestic partnership laws in the union -- that will not end, it will continue to influence the policymakers outside CA -- and the ideas of equality it represents remain in our DNA. We who support true citizenship, rather than an antiquated separate-but-equal philosophy, were complacent about this election, about the notion that human and civil rights in fact extend to all humans.

More important, and the reason I am hopeful and grateful, there is a major shift in the US. The paradigm has changed, and prop 8 is the last fearful gasp, the cold dead hands clutching the old narrow privilege. If it passes, which it may well do, we should count it as the millstone that will eventually drown the voices of fear.

Jesus is my president; may his Holy Spirit continue to move among us.