I was taking a late afternoon early dusk walk on the beach when a question welled up in my heart. When was the last time I skipped? The Scripture passage about the mountains and goats skipping began to cause me to wonder and pause. It was a cold afternoon and very clear skies. It could freeze by the time the morning shakes off the dark.

PSALM 114

When Israel came forth from Egypt,

the house of Jacob from an alien people,

Judah became God’s holy place,

Israel, God’s domain.

The sea beheld and fled;

the Jordan turned back.

The mountains skipped like rams;

the hills, like lambs of the flock.

Why was it, sea, that you fled?

Jordan that you turned back?

You mountains, that you skipped like rams?

You hills, like lambs of the flock?

Tremble, earth, before the Lord,

before the God of Jacob,

Who turned rock into pools of water,

stone into flowing springs.

And so I skipped. When I think of young kids skipping, a smile creeps across my face. I don’t think a soul saw me. How come I am so self-conscious about skipping? It is kind of like dancing. Perhaps I worry too much about what others think. When I have been at the bedside of someone dying, I don’t hesitate to sing, play a flute, or ask questions like, “Are you afraid to die?” Like the Lord in the Exodus, I must proclaim that God is moving the mountains of grief in our souls. God is preparing to bring a Beloved child home. At other times, I am too fearful to skip like the psalm. Back in the seminary I played my recorder at Mass. Performing or preaching before peers is intimidating. It didn’t help that my friend, now Father Bob, used to call my recorder “the flute from hell!”

It had been a long time since I “skipped”. Even saying the word, ‘skipped’ sounds funny to me. Try it. Say the word slowly and notice how your breath, tangled tongue and the ‘p’ pops like a deflated balloon. It might make you laugh or smile. Ssssssskkkkkiiiiiippppt!

Skipping is really fun. I started getting a little carried away, forgetting that I was 51 years old. I felt like I was flying. It is similar to a horse that goes from a walk to a trot and then a gallop. It is crazy fun. Even if you can’t physically skip, we human beings can skip in our hearts and souls. I invite you to try it. But, unfortunately, there is a danger!

After I left the beach, I was feeling pretty good and excited about how fast I could move while skipping. Then I started to really skip. I felt like singing at the same time. When I was about 150 yards from my house, one of my skips went ‘pop’! I blew out my left calf muscle. It really felt like a real calf was trying to get into my calve. I could barely walk. Each step sent a sharp pain from my leg to my brain.

When I arrived, home, I hobbled around and got the icepack. It still hurts real bad. However, I am most pleased that I skipped again. It might be a long time before my next skip, but I marvel how when I was skipping, my prayer and soul soared too. And now I marvel how my body automatically kicks in and starts to heal. I only wish that healing were as fast as skipping!

While recuperating and writing, I decided to look up in my concordance the word ‘skipped’. Did you know it only appears in two places?

Psalm 29 verse 6 says, “God makes Lebanon skip like a calf…” (Boy is my calf feeling more like it is kicking rather than skipping!) And then the word appears in Psalm 114. But this is what I found amazing. The note in the New American Bible follows:

Ps 114: A hymn celebrating Israel’s escape from Egypt, journey through the wilderness, and entry into the promised land, and the miracles of nature that bore witness to God’s presence in their midst. In the perspective of the psalm, the people proceed directly from Egypt into the promised land. Sea and Jordan, which stood like soldiers barring the people from their land, flee before the mighty God as the earth recoils from the battle. The poet taunts the natural elements as one taunts defeated enemies.

I am like Israel immersed in the Psalm. Many times in my life, I must escape the wilderness or the desert or the wars. I depend totally on God Alone. When we truly become Catholic Stewards of Creation our exile here on earth becomes nothing. We see our loved ones in heaven and we HOPE in our own entrance into the Promised Land because we have total faith that God loves us and calls us “Beloved.”

How is that for Good and Great News of Great Joy for all peoples?

Have a blessed advent week!

Remember to rejoice and skip on the third Sunday of Advent…or at least try saying “skipped” without grinning or laughing.

Love, joy, peace,

Father Ron Moses +

www.tearinthedesert.com

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