Shaken Down

Yesterday I participated in a contemplative prayer group that included lectio divina. It reminded me how nourishing lectio is to my soul. We prayed Luke 6:36-38, a familiar scripture I somehow have never given much thought. I hadn’t even given it much thought when I read it earlier in the day.

Then we prayed it after the centering prayer and “shaken together” spoke to me. It was like rewatching a movie after someone has pointed out something to look for. It was so obvious.

Shaken down. I thought of being a kid at Halloween with a bag for candy. When the bag got full, I wouldn’t give up, call it a night, and limit myself. Shake that bag down. Pack it in. Shake it down again. There is still room for more.

Why should I think the first bit of encounter with God is it, go home, call it a night, and limit myself? I want to stand before the Holy, shake it down and pack it in. I should never rush off, assuming this is all.

So I shake down my bag. While I consider myself thoroughly Christian, shaking down my bag I find beauty in other religious traditions, like Sufi poetry and Zen wisdom, that will fit in. Why should I assume this is it, this is all God has for me? The night is not over. I shake down my bag. Holy One, show me more. My bag can hold it.