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Today it, the reading, the burden, it was the story of the vineyard's owner who with a deliberate and divine foolishness left the vineyard in the hand of servants who then abused their stewardship. The reps who were sent back, one by one, they were abused too, even killed, and their blood was thrown into the vat so full already!
Oh Matthew, is this really a story about the kingdom being handed over from its original stewards, the Jews, to the Gentiles? Wait a moment, my love, how well are the Gentiles tending the vineyard today? Have they deserved this stewardship? Is the same tragedy recurring over and over like a wash cycle?
God is ever patient or at least has been up to now. Meanwhile my friends, sick of organized religion, get enticed by the smorgasbord of yoga and zen. Is Jesus speaking through these disciplines now, trying to reach the ears of people who can no longer hear the undiluted Gospel? It would be like him to try. But what if they (what if we) should abuse yoga and zen too? When does the patience of our leaf-folded maker finally reach its everloving end? Today roses are shaking in the summer wind like an old woman's cigarette smoke, hot and tremulous, very Faulkner. Everywhere Bougainvillea party favors, doggy poop on the petals, and my heart feeling ready to stop on a dime. To stop.
Then start again, with I hope a deeper awareness.
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And with this the meditations of June 2004 come to an end.
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