The Altar

Today I wrote a petition

a prayer to God

"Thank you for Dorothy;

Healing for Leslie"

and I kissed it

and lifted it up

and I placed it on the Altar

right in the center.

And I thought,

"I never would have done that when the altar was on the stage platform like it was until this Easter."

Why not?

"Because it seemed so inaccessible there."

But you're a priest.

Even if some people feel they ought not to approach the altar,

surely a priest would anytime she wants to.

"But it doesn't occur to me.

Now that it is down on the floor,

amidst the people,

even I, maybe especially I, find it more approachable."

So what does that say about you and God?

There's something to be said for the transcendence of God.

God, high and lifted up, "in light inaccessible, hid from our eyes."

There's truth in that.

There's also the incarnation. God, here, now, among us,

God with us, God in the midst of our lives,

our pain, our joy, "in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer,

til death do us part".

I used to stand behind the altar sometimes, when the church was empty,

and look out at the empty pews below and before me.

I was delighted.

But never did I feel I wanted to embrace that table.

Today I did.

Today, I do.