We are God's house of living stones,
Built for his own habitation;
He fills our hearts, his humble thrones,
Granting us life and salvation;
Were two or three to seek his face,
He in their midst would show his grace,
Blessings upon them bestowing.
(Nikolai Grundtvig, translated by Carl Doving)

For John Milton's 400th birthday, December 9, my senior class of English majors wanted to organize a marathon reading of Paradise Lost--about ten hours of reading poetry aloud. When I invited my first year class of mixed majors to join us, John (who's majoring in psychology) called across the room to Jack, one of the two English majors: "English majors think that's fun?" Jack replied, "Well, reading is fun." His tone of voice strongly suggested that he wanted to add "alone in my room." All declined the invitation.

But they responded differently a few weeks later, when one of the seniors arrived in their classroom to renew the invitation. (Perhaps not coincidentally, the senior's name is Grace.) And they all seemed to enjoy the experience. After his turn reading, Jack even volunteered to take another turn if we had an opening in the schedule. Over and over during the day students commented that hearing Paradise Lost read aloud in different voices seemed to give the poetry new meaning.

I can think of several factors that contributed to their pleasure in the marathon reading. One is that anything thought-provoking--the Bible as well as great poetry--should be read more than once. Strictly speaking, I didn't need to reread Paradise Lost to teach it last semester. I could have relied on all my previous readings of it. But each time I read the poem, different words and images jump out, new meanings come to mind. It's the same with the Bible.

Another factor is that poetry, like the Bible (which includes a lot of poetry), is designed to be heard as well as read. The scholars who wrote the King James Bible met and read aloud to one another the passages they had translated. They wanted their Bible to be accurate and they wanted it to appeal to the ear. When they were done, each church in England received a copy of the King James Bible so that everyone, even the many people who were illiterate, could experience the scriptures.

But I don't need to go to a marathon reading to hear someone else read Milton's poem, and I don't need to go to church to hear the Bible. Today we have all sorts of electronic devices that will read to us. Thinking about the students' discovery of the pleasure of reading poetry aloud together, I remembered the times people have said to me, "I don't need to go to church--I can pray and read the Bible on my own. There are sermons online and on TV." Or "I go to church for communion, but I don't need to attend anything during the week. A prayer group? A Bible study? I'll do those things my way, thanks." Sometimes I've thought this way myself, especially when it's cold or wet outside.

But in most cases it's not an either/or situation. I can and should read and pray in solitude; I can and should read and pray with others, too. There's something about being in the same place with others sharing the same experience that changes that experience. And on the many occasions when I lack the discipline to read and pray on my own, I need the example of others: "And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another . . ." (Hebrews 10:24-25).

Lord, help us remember that in some places your people risk their lives to meet together. Stir up in us the desire to know you more fully through all means-including reading the Book of Faith together and apart, aloud and silently. Help us to strengthen the faith of others, so that we may all act in faithful and loving ways. Amen.

Contributed by Jean
Sunday February 22, 2009
Liturgical Year B Week 13
Sunday Gospel Readings:
Transfiguration of Our Lord