Today's reflection is by Darwin Janes,
member of the Episcopal Chaplaincy at Boston University
Recently one of my classes here in New Zealand had a field trip to a
beach near us to investigate the area’s geologic formations. We observed
that the bluffs along the shore had many layers of sandstone—a solid
layer of rock that had once been grains of loose, unconsolidated sand
that were then solidified deep under the surface into a layer of stone.
It made me consider the Psalmist’s words: “What can an honest person do
when everything crumbles?”
I often worry that the rocks on which I am building my own life—my
future career, my friends, my schoolwork—may not be as sturdy as I
thought they were; that I am not smart enough, or don’t work hard
enough, and that everything I had worked on will crumble to pieces as
soon as I am thrust into the harsh post-graduation world. Whether or not
these fears are misplaced, as often as I have them I am reassured by
the fact that we worship a God who makes broken things whole, just like
the tiny grains of sand carved from mighty boulders that are squeezed
and pressed back into towering cliffs of stone. To contemplate such a
God is to contemplate, according to the Book of Common Prayer,
the hope that we as Christians have: “to live with confidence in newness
and fullness of life, and to await the coming of Christ in glory, and
the completion of God’s purpose for the world.”
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