John 3:14-21

Christ Our Light -- Brother Lawrence, Holy Rosary Priory, Bushey, Great Britain

And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God.

And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.

For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed.

But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.

Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22

--Rachelle Oppenhuizen

O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever.

Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, those he redeemed from trouble and gathered in from the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.

Earlier in this collection of reflections, in week one of Lent, I reflected on Psalm 51 with the story of a personal experience of brokenness and eventual healing. I’m inclined to continue the telling of that story a bit further, as the Psalmist seems to be doing also here in Psalm 107, from a place of restoration which nonetheless reflects on and acknowledges the difficulty of a previous time. The story doesn’t end at the “bottom” for the Psalmist, nor for the “redeemed of the LORD.” As one of the ones God redeemed from trouble, I’m prepared to say so.

I wish to extend my telling of the mystery of mercy with the sharing of this mandala which arrived in a dream some five years beyond the Psalm 51 experience in my life. In the dream, I’m watching four circles move around within a dark, square field. The circles migrate to the four corners and lines appear and radiate out from each circle to traverse the space toward the median of the opposite sides, intersecting at the center to form a layered star. A voice announces that a wedding is underway.

No kidding. A wedding is a symbol of union—a reconciliation of the tension of the opposites. Most dreams present a situation in which there’s a dynamic tension. Most marriages do, too.

As I reflected on the words of this Psalm, I recalled the suggestion presented by this image of a compass from which the four directions move toward the center to overlap one another and create a star. From the polarities, a new point of meaning (indeed, a means of navigation) is established by the coming together of the opposites—”from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.” (Please consider, as well, the way that the reconciliation of these four directions is also descriptive of the work that is accomplished at the center of a cross—not to overstate the obvious, but this is a Lenten reflection.) To quote an ancient axiom, “As above, so below; as below, so above.” One might add, “as within, so without; as without, so within.”

The reconciliation of the opposites that the world longs for exists already in the hearts of those who have come to know the steadfast love of the LORD which endures forever. Christ prays in us for that Union, and guides us like a star toward the center.

Let them thank the LORD for his steadfast love, for his wonderful works to humankind.  And let them offer thanksgiving sacrifices, and tell of his deeds with songs of joy.

                                                                                 —Rachelle Oppenhuizen