Teach us to look for you

By Fr. Austin Fleming

This prayer was written to accompany the Advent hymn “People, Look East,” #226 in Singing the Living Tradition.

Spirit of the Living God,
turn our faces to the East to look for your presence.
Turn our faces in any and every direction
from which you draw near to us.
Teach us to look for you in places
we would not expect to find you.
Teach us to find you in places so well known to us
that we now fail to see you there.
Help us to see you in every guest we entertain.
Let the beauty of a rose, of any bloom, reveal your presence to us.
Let every bird who wings across the sky above
remind us of the freedom that is ours.
Let every star in the heavens be a light
in the darkness of our lonely nights…
Never let us forget that you are love
and that those who abide in love abide in you…
Teach us to look east, Sweet Mystery,
and north and south and west
that we might find you in every place we look…
including within ourselves.
Amen.

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This poem was included in the monthly Soul Matters packet for “The Practice of Presence.” At first glance, it reminded me of a lesson I learned from a Meadville professor: when someone transitions from this world to whatever lies next, she asks them, “Where will we find you when you are gone?” This is a beautiful path to acceptance when we are grieving, especially if, as the theology of the poem teaches, we can find the divine in everything, everywhere, including ourselves.

When I noticed the poem was written to accompany People Look East, I had to laugh a little and find the sacred in the entire situation. We sang, or attempted to sing, People Look East, at the Milk and Cookie Communion. If you were there, you know how that went. If you weren’t, well, let’s just say that I use the word “sing” here very loosely. It’s a beautiful hymn, but the congregation is not familiar with it and I’ve been struggling with my voice after having a big ol’ sinus infection. I don’t ever expect perfection but I do strive to make things as great as possible. No matter, it was easy to laugh about it at the Milk and Cookie Communion, a fun and joyful worship service. Reading this poem, however, really emphasized the point that the divine can be found in everything, even in our moments of not-so-greatness. “Teach us to look for you in places we would not expect to find you.” The divine is easily seen in a perfectly exquisite rose, a peacefully soaring bird, and a flawlessly performed song. But us struggling, faltering humans? Perhaps that’s the most divine thing of all, and the lesson is to change the story, shift our perspectives, and see how much love actually exists when we fumble together. The lesson is not to feel bad about not being perfect, or even good, but to be present to the love that surrounds us. I think the world needs more of this. I think it’s an opportunity to heal.