Thank you to my friend, Evey McKellar, for exposing me to enough of the poet Mary Oliver that I finally realized I needed a book of my own. Got it and there I found, I Wake Close to Morning.

Why do people keep asking to see
God’s identity papers
when the darkness opening into morning
is more than enough?
Certainly any god might turn away in disgust.
Think of Sheba approaching
the kingdom of Solomon,
Do you think she had to ask,
“Is this the place?”

I love that poem. I think, at least as much as beauty can be got, I get it. But, it occurs to me that Oliver could be seen as a little too matter of fact in her wondering why one would ask to see God’s identity papers. It’s true enough that darkness turning into morning is a wondrous thing and surely Solomon’s place was so spectacular that Sheba didn’t feel compelled to ask if she had the right house. But, how about when life doesn’t feel that obvious?

What about the times we aren’t so sure we have the right place? For instance, let’s say there’s a pandemic, a loved one dies, the country you love is terribly divided, some of your friends are expressing their pain, saying it feels like someone’s knee is on their neck but what they hear in return is, “get over it,” and maybe you wake up one morning while it’s still dark but you don’t feel the wonder, you feel lonely. You would really like to hug some of your loved ones that you haven’t seen in long time, some of whom are on the other side of the veil. I know that sounds like a stretch but it could happen, right? Would it be okay to ask God for some ID then?

John the Baptist seems to have had one of those days. The Gospels tell us of a time he sent some of his disciples to ask Jesus if he were indeed the one or if we were still waiting. Of course, John was in prison at that time, facing a beheading so one can appreciate how he could possibly not feel like Sheba in Solomon’s palace and he could be wondering if he was in the right place, hitched to the right guy.

It’s interesting how Jesus answered. He didn’t say, “Here’s my ID. Note how it says, ‘Jesus, The One. Soon to be known as Christ.’” He said, “Tell John what you see, what you hear. The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have the good news brought to them.”

“What you see, what you hear.” It always comes down to paying attention, being observant. Noting what is.

So, today, as I ride this spinning planet through the universe, watching darkness turn to morning, afternoon turn to dusk, thinking that each full moon is fuller than I remembered and there really are a bunch of stars; I notice.

I notice that I am seeing more clearly, with more empathy. I am not lame, I am able to help. God does not call me unclean and cast me away, my wounds are healing and I am slowly but persistently being transformed into God’s image. I am not deaf, I do hear the cries of the needy. I am not dead, I am alive, very alive. And, I have seen the good news of God’s love and presence come to the despairing.

Of course this is the place. No ID required.