Ending Place-less-ness

"Could be right before your very eyes
Just beyond a door that's open wide
Could be far away or in your own backyard
There are those who say, you can look too hard
For your place in the world"    Mary Chapin Carpenter

"He has placed eternity in our hearts"  Solomon

Ever find yourself thinking that time should be more than just something you're rushing against, that a location shouldn't just be generic 'space', or that life itself is surely meant to be anchored in more than just existing in the brevity of the current moment?

Why, when so much of what's considered 'usual' is comprised of the above, would we even want to think outside of the box - not only think, but want... need what's beyond that?

We all know what it's like to really inhabit a time and a place in a way in which time no longer becomes defined by what we see on a clock face or schedule, but by the value, the weight, of what we experience in a realm which could last for seconds, minutes or hours. We know what happens when we are in a place which holds a value to us we cannot really put into words, and we are enriched when we recall those moments, in such times and places, where something truly meaningful and defining happened to us.

Priesthood in the Bible starts with a pretty dull definition - it's likened to the base of a structure, but it isn't long before Adam (the first person given responsibilities) discovers there's a breadth to what pivots on his viably interacting with the garden he's been placed in, and the role deepens rapidly as that engagement unfolds.

I often think that Eden would have become somewhat akin to Dr Ana Stelline's (Blade Runner 2049) world of unceasing possibility if we'd reveled in the splendor of what was ours and not headed into the cul de sac of violent servitude to severed existence.

Occasionally, we still stop and smell the honeysuckle, and, oh, how it reaches in as we're transported to somewhere we know we should be instead of the dirt and diaspora of our broken lives.

Christianity is about genuine priesthood. It tells us that Eden isn't over - that the paradise sold for a sour lie is not so far away when God comes for us again.

It means that those moments when the seasons facilitate our souls warming to the beauty that whispers of the eternal set our feet back to the true intent of God - life, abundant and unceasing.

Religion gives us copious regimens of rules and abstractions about the divine. Priesthood puts us right back beneath the tree of life and desires us to eat to our heart's content.
It heals us by making the pathetic blind thing we are into persons, tall and erect, once more, endowed with a dignity that makes all of life shameless and naked before the one who walks with us in joy.

Heaven isn't some weird harp academy where we wish we were elsewhere. It's the renewal of all that is so good about life without all the sharp deaths of selfishness cruelty and evil malevolence. It's an earth where we can breathe easy, because the servitude of 'must' will be replaced with the pleasure of 'can'.

Next time you have a 'moment', when heaven seems closer, consider what it says about you, and what life can be, when we're freed to be His Priests again.