Street Psalms is a “community of the Incarnation” and we will soon celebrate the mystery of Word made flesh. I have come to see this mystery not merely as an event that happened 2,000 years ago with the birth of Jesus, but an “infinite moment when everything happens.” And it’s happening now.  Word is always becoming flesh and dwelling among us, without hesitation. 

As I look back on it now,  I think I was undergoing what Thomas Merton called the “hidden wholeness” of reality. I was experiencing something big and spacious and life-giving. The distinction between “us” and “them” faded. In its place was a deep sense of connection, union, wholeness, belonging. 

I’ve been stumbling around lately. More than usual. It’s like I’ve got a case of spiritual vertigo. All this stumbling around has got me thinking about the relationship between what Jesus calls “Skandalon” and “Gehenna” and what that means for this year’s theme  – contemplative action.

I was grateful for Street Psalms. Not because we are above our own potential train wreck, but because as a community modeled after the Incarnation, there are some built-in features that protect us from our worst selves. 

For many years I have kept a photo of Thérèse of Lisieux (1873 –1897) on my desk. On the back is a touched relic of Thérèse. It was given to me by Sister Wilma, a hermetic nun in New Jersey, who lives a life of solitude and prayer. She regularly prays for Street Psalms. It means a lot to me, especially because I know the place from which it comes. She has mapped the wild, untamed universe of the soul, which is no less challenging than the cities we serve.

Perhaps like me, you were taught that Creation was a one-time event that happened a long time ago. Jesus insists otherwise. Creation, it seems, is a current reality that is happening right now. In fact, Scripture invites us to imagine Creation itself as the womb of God giving birth to new life through the Spirit. The implications of this are huge!

Virtually all of us have been taught to form identity in one way – “over and against” the other. This has been the dominant consciousness for most of history. It is the water in which we swim. It’s not easy to see it for what it is until we become land-born creatures with lungs, not gills. 

Hopkins is suggesting that Easter is not only an event that happened 2,000 years ago. It doesn’t sit in the background of our life, reminding us to behave like good boys and girls until Jesus returns. It is a present reality that is happening today.

This month we turn to Etty Hillesum for guidance. In my view, Etty was a 20th-century saint. She voluntarily went to Westerbork concentration camp in Nazi-occupied Amsterdam, to “share her people’s fate.” She was killed in Auschwitz in 1943 at 29 years old.

Howard Thurman is a lesser-known figure of the Civil Rights movement, but his impact cannot be overstated. He was, by all accounts, a contemplative activist when there was hardly any language for that, especially in social justice circles.  

I’d like to introduce this year’s theme by sharing a metaphor from Alcoholics Anonymous. Fair warning – it’s a bit earthy, which is one of the things I love about AA.