Noticing

The last article in my alma mater's latest alumni magazine was about fellow alumnae. She graduated the year I was born, and went on to be one of the first African-American women ordained into the Episcopal priesthood. A more recent graduate is going on to seminary after doing a lot of work in Appalachia with poverty issues.

I mention this because I'm becoming increasingly aware of how prophetic priesthood really is meant to be. And how unpopular that often is, even within the church. We're not here to provide a stained-glass bubble that provides an hour of purgatory every Sunday, we're here to show people the kingdom of heaven here and now.

The gospel reading this Sunday was from Matthew 13, a two parables explaining the kingdom of heaven: a tiny mustard seed that grows to a mighty tree and provides a home for the birds of the air, the kingdom of heaven is like yeast used to make bread. It's things that are here, among us now. It's things that we see and touch every day.

I wonder if the kingdom of heaven is also a realm of "noticing." Learning from the yeast, feeling comfort in the in similarity between our individual insignificance/inadequacy and the size of a mustard seed. Mr. M and I went for a walk last night, and really enjoyed the things around us. We talked about how tight money is right now, but also how we feel much more privledged than some of the more comfortable people we know-- simply because we've been blessed with noticing what's around us.