Vermont Journal - II

August 4
Years ago a large pine tree at the edge of a pasture was hit by lightning killing the tree and leaving a sixty foot pole with broken limbs angling hapharzardly toward the sky. This morning we saw an eagle perched atop this dead tree with its wings outstretched "as though in blessing," my wife said.
It happened that the morning's scripture was the Pentecost story from the Acts of the Apostles. All were filled with the Holy Spirit and a tongue of fire rested upon each.
The coincidence of the eagle and the Pentecost story recalled to my mind the 15th century Russian icon, "The Descent of the Holy Spirit." There from the wings of the Spirit, who appears dark like the eagle rather than white, come twelve rays. This is what called the icon to mind. The tips of the feathers from the eagle's outstretched wings seemed to angle down to the earth not unlike those of the Spirit in the icon. In both cases, the feathers point down like rays of divine energy upon all living souls.
The Spirit/eagle is seen above. It is uplifting, blessing, activating in us the divine love and our hunger for that love that our fractured world so needs. The fire of unity rests upon each, under wings of radiant power.

August 6, The Transfiguration
At a little church in Vermont a service in celebration of the Transfiguration began with a procession. The crucifer was an elderly gentleman with an obvious tremor. The heavy cross leaned out to the side. It seemed less to me that he was holding up the cross than he was being upheld by it. Rather than carry the cross, it appeared to carry him. As I watched, I thought, "My God, that's my life." It is the cross that I try to uphold that is actually holding me and carrying me. Our tremors are transfigured to tranquility.