Glints of the Spirit

(Note: Today’s guest blogger is our very own Rev. Celie Katovitch – one of our pastoral leaders at Spiritus. Thanks, as always, Rev. Celie, for your inspiring contributions!)

Many institutions and organizations have a “founding story”: a tale about their origins, that after awhile takes on almost the status of myth (myth in the good sense, of a sacred story that acts as the foundation for everything that comes after). Often, these stories revolve around a central charismatic figure— a patriarch or matriarch who is regarded ever after as the originator of all that follows. Even generations later, that person is seen as the main character, from which the rest of the organization’s history flows.

Abraham was such a person for the Israelites. He was the founding visionary of the faith. Many regarded the whole story of Jewish people as having stemmed from his original covenant with God. He is the first patriarch: the core spiritual ancestor of the people.

Now, here comes Jesus, standing in his own wisdom. And while he is deeply rooted in the tradition of the patriarchs and matriarchs, people can also see he brings a presence that is very different, as well. Something new is going on here. They challenge both his authority and certain of his ideas, asking rhetorically, “Do you think you are greater than our father, Abraham?”

And Jesus replies, “Before Abraham was— I AM.”

Of course, he is invoking here the great “I AM” said to Moses from the burning bush— the way God announces and describes Godself. God is pure being; eternal; the true source and loving origin of all that is. God— the great I AM— is the true authority, and the One to whom everything belongs: every people, every bit of land, every institution or organization, every church. The One who truly brings them all into being is not any single human, but God.

Jesus calls his critics to this bigger picture, hinting that greater than the most formidable history, the most powerful myth or tale of the founders, is the power of God— living, active, breathing through all that is.

It reminds me of a poem by Rumi called “The Pickaxe.” Here is a part of it:

“This is a rented house. You don’t own the deed.

You have a lease, and you’ve set up a little shop,
where you barely make a living sewing patches

on torn clothing. Yet only a few feet underneath
are two veins, pure red and bright gold carnelian.

Quick! Take the pickaxe and pry the foundation […]

Rip up one board from the shop floor and look into
the basement. You’ll see two glints in the dirt.”

Maybe this is a thought we can carry into our workplaces, homes, and anywhere long narrative histories operate. Let’s always remember to look deeper, for those glints of the Spirit— hints of the God who is always creating things anew!