I heard a sermon this morning. Part of the message pointed out how important it is to ask in all things, where is God in this? The preacher’s point was so well taken that I was on the edge of not thinking about the idea beyond what he said so well.

However, I had also written a poem about snow the night before. As I began to look out my January window, it occurred to me that whenever we see God clearly – His laugher, love, sadness – there is often a noticeable element of irony in the moment.

This is because when the infinite comes alive amidst the finite, the moment is often clothed in poignant irony. Like that of a babe-king placed in a lowly manger, of death being so intertwined with life, and of the wise men being such avid readers of occult stars and scientific charts as they decided to offer up their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

So, whether for young or old Christians, it occurred to me that it might be a good, meditative Sunday school lesson to talk about this truth: that when God reveals His presence there is often a cloud of irony trailing in the wake of the revelation.

Once the first talking and discussion portion of the lesson is finished, ask everyone to spread out. If the weather is nice they can go outside, perhaps even to your church’s garden if you have one. If it is questionable outside, then spreading out to various quiet corners or interior spaces would be fine as well.

Add that each person should take a piece of paper and a pencil with them. When they are settled, ask them to used the quite to meditate on where they last saw or felt God’s hand at work. As their mind wanders, they might also consider if something in their current surrounds – the rain, blue sky, wall art, or the flicker of some votive candle –makes them more presently aware of Him in some heartfelt way.

Then suggest two more steps to everyone. First, they should consider if there is something ironic in the moment or scene on which they are focusing. Second, if they do not mind, ask them to write a short poem or paragraph about what they are thinking, possibly sharing it with the group when they are finished.

My entry and example for this idea is the following attempted poem, the one that made me contemplate this exercise in the first place:

Epiphany –
the irony   
in a blanket of
   winter snow
that reveals
rather than covers up
beauty . . .