Prayer

 

Soft Subtle Spirit

 

Last Sunday, I invited you to think of the multitude of ways the Spirit can be found.  The Spirit may not always be splashy or specular; may not show up with noisy gongs or clanging cymbals or beating drums.  The Spirit can be soft as butterfly wings fluttering against the wind.  The Spirit can be as subtle as a word spoken by someone that initially you breezed past, but in reflection left more than a trace on your life.  When have you felt the Spirit this week?  I usually think of this in those goosebump moments or when a truth lands in my gut or when I feel the “more-than-ness” of the holy hovering/humming in my life.  When I am beyond words.  I think of times I am walking in the woods or standing beneath a tree.  I think of hymns that stir my soul.  I think of hugs that have held me when I felt unlovable.  I think of peace that interrupted my anger.  I think of tears that released my pain I was trying to contain.  How do you feel the Spirit?  May that question sit and stir and sing to you this day and throughout the rest of this year.  Amen.

Let Go, Let Be, Let Come Part 3

 

Let go, let be, and let come has been our practice this week.  I wonder, what your experience of this has been so far?  Maybe you didn’t realize all you were carrying ~ no wonder you were gasping and your muscles aching.  Or I often realize that I am trying to hold grains of sand while all of life feels like it is slipping away.  Or maybe you’ve found this practice too simplistic.  We all dance to the blues of “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen/felt/held”.  You are right.  No one has seen or felt or lived your life.  No one knows exactly how you feel, and no one can walk a mile in your shoes.  At the same time, all people experience pain.  To be sure, we love to be the judge and jury, telling someone that their pain isn’t as bad as our pain.  That day, they stubbed their toe?  Well, I broke my tooth, got yelled at by my boss, and my pet goat ran away.  One feature of being human is suffering, but we often do so in isolation.  We often think that Jesus suffered alone.  But in John’s gospel, we are told that the beloved disciple and the courageous/fiercely faithful women stood at the foot of the cross, unwilling to let Jesus die alone.  Today, I want to invite you to share a pain you are carrying with others.  I know this is vulnerable because it will open you to that well-meaning, loving person telling you what to do or sharing their own pain as if it were some competition.  We need to be careful.  You can come talk to me, and I promise not to do that.  To share pain is to share your life.  To speak aloud what we tightly grasp is to open space for the Spirit to move.  I pray that in sharing, speaking aloud that which you have been holding in the cramped, confining space of your fist might help you let go, let be, and let come a Spirit that longs to work in your life and mine.  Amen.

Let Go, Let Be, Let Come Part 2

 

Yesterday, we prayerfully played with the idea of letting go, letting be, and letting come.  This cuts against the grain of the gospels of the world, where we are to be in charge and control.  During Holy Week, I introduced you to Hartmut Rosa, who says that we cannot manifest everything in our lives.  Yes, you can plot, plan, and put together a vision board, but in the boat of your life, the wind will blow without your permission.  We are continually told that we have great power.  That is true, I can decide what to eat, wear, live, write in these morning meditations, when to speak up, and when to stay silent, when to show up, and when to binge-watch something on the internet.  I have a choice.  But I don’t control the weather or whether people respond positively or negatively to this post.  Jesus, God incarnate and in the flesh, followed God’s self-emptying pattern by letting go, letting be, and letting come.  Jesus didn’t exploit his God-given image for his own profit and privilege.  Some today in our culture would think, “What a waste!  He could have been famous and had millions of followers.”  Only Jesus still does compel our hearts, not with force but with faith.  Jesus still “gospels” my life by showing me that the ways of this world will not fill me with the Spirit, but empty me and my wallet in service to the bottom line.  Let go, let be, and let come prayer practice reminds me that I am not the only author of my life.  God co-authors my story and seeks to re-author what I tell myself each day. 

 

Form a fist again.  What did you write down yesterday that annoys you or that you are arguing with?  Is there something new today?  What do you resist (because that will persist in your life) when it comes to the fact that you don’t make the wind blow in the sail of life?

 

Now release your fists to let go, knowing and trusting that whatever the ache or annoyance is, it is still there. Sometimes, when we let go of the grasshopper or cricket, it doesn’t immediately flee or leave but lingers.  When we release, we make space for being curious.  I wonder why I resist that person or situation?  I wonder why I cling to that ache?  I wonder why…fill in the blank with what you are carrying today.  When we let go, that doesn’t mean we give up or throw up our hands, but that we hold lightly and let the light of God’s love into the darkness of our fists.

 

As you open your hand, what else wants space to be there?  Sometimes we think we are clinging to one thing, only to open our hands to discover there were many things we didn’t know were there.  When you open your hand, are you willing to consider the exact opposite thought you’ve been clinging to and carrying around?  That is, if I am holding onto the hurt of some jerk who said something to me, when I release my fist, could it be that this fellow featherless biped might also be angry and lashing out at me because of his own pain?  Remember that great phrase, “Hurting people hurt people.”  When someone else has a fist, of course, they are going to cause pain when they come at you.  What else wants room in your open hand? Could it be the exact opposite of what you assumed was true?

 

Finally, let come.  Just as no word, image, idea, or thought can ever contain or confine God, nor can I tell you what will happen next year, next week, or even later today.  I might have a good idea, but there is an uncontrollability to life that our modern-day gospels resist, reject, and refute continually while trying to sell you something.  Keep prayerfully practicing this letting go, letting be, letting come with your hands and your souls opening to the Spirit.

Let go, let be, let come

 

You don’t achieve liberation through control; you achieve liberation through acceptance. (Note: acceptance doesn’t mean approval or “it’s all good”.  Acceptance is a recognition of reality, pain, our limitations and abilities, the ongoing-ness of God)  Katherine Morgan Shcafler.

 

Brian McLaren writes about how life in the Spirit is a process of letting go, letting be, and letting come.  This is never one and done, but a continual and constant invitation.  This week, I want to encourage you to engage in a prayer practice that invites the Spirit to intercede and interrupt our thinking.  After all, it was my thinking that got me here and may not get me there where God wants me to go.  Sometimes I cannot grow or go because I am carrying too much “stuff” that the Spirit wants me to set down. 

 

What is a situation, person, pain, problem, ache, hurt, frustration, anger, fear, or dis-ease that you are carrying around?  Picture it ~ this might be easier with a person than it is with a general malaise that afflicts and affects many today.  Or maybe your fear is like that monster under your bed of your soul that disappears the moment you flick on the lights to try to see it.  Even when words are inadequate and insufficient, try anyway.  Or draw what you are carrying. 

 

The truth is, we cling to our brokenness, believing that we can, nay, we must, solve it.  And when we cling, we hold tightly to a thousand sharp shards of broken glass; we can be cut again and again. 

 

Imagine holding that thing you just described or drew on the piece of paper.  Make tense, tight fists with both your hands, squeezing that situation, person, or pain.  Maybe squeeze the way that thing is squeezing you. 

 

Let it go: I want you to open your hands.  Feel the blood release and flow freely back through.  Feel the relief of not trying to control and contain.  What would it mean to let go of that which you are holding?  Do you feel irresponsible?  Sometimes I let the gospel of thinking I must save the world be the voice that controls my calendar.  Or I think I can’t let go of that; who would I be if I didn’t have that anger or hurt…I might get hurt again.  Do you hear honest fear in that statement?  Open your hands, knowing that if the pain hops away like a cricket you’ve been holding, you can pick up the pain again if you wish. 

 

Let it be: Hold your hands in the form of a cup, letting that pain be in your hands.  Ponder prayerfully how that ache, problem, dis-ease has been defining you and draining your energy.  Ponder prayerfully and gracefully what you would say to a friend who would be going through something like this.  Would you verbally beat that person up, telling them they are weak or silly?  Probably not!  But my inner critic loves to do this to me.  Hold the heaviness, feel the weightiness in your hands of what you've been grappling with, how many calories you’ve been burning because of that.  Be with your ache, curiously listening to it. 

 

Let it come: Is there something else that wants space and place in your hands, too?  Just as there is only so much I can carry, there is only so much room in my soul.  There is that great ancient wisdom that within our souls there is a wolf and sheep…and the one that wins is the one you feed.  What are you feeding by how you are clinging?  We do not have endless energy, so when we give our breath, life, and attention to that which is draining, what leftovers do we offer to other parts that are more life-giving?  May this prayer practice help you today notice what you are carrying and that you are being carried by the Creator who holds you every moment.  Amen.

Prayers

 

God, thank you for this body that carries me around.  Thank you for the places I’ve been, the people I’ve connected with, the ways You show up in sights, sounds, smells, and the ordinariness of life.  Thank you, even, for people who are like south stars and tell me how I don’t want to be.  Thank you to the people who push buttons because they teach me to be careful with my words.  Thank you to people who are bullies and convict me to keep my core value of letting loose Your love even when others don’t notice.  Thank you for the truth that just as my body keeps making new skin cells and blood flowing and thoughts growing, You are not finished with me or anyone I meet or this world.  Help me participate and part-take in sharing in what You are up to in the world, especially here and now.  In the name of the One who knits us together with grace and love, Jesus the Christ.  Amen.  

Demands and Decrees we make

 

Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body.  1 Corinthians 12:15

 

Belonging is a longing that stirs within us.  Belonging is acceptance, affirmation, being seen and heard, and embracing the fullness of life blended into one smoothie of life.  I believe that we long for a belonging that is more than fitting in.  We long to find people who love us fully.  And, because humans are humans, we also divide and discriminate, we rate and rank, and our opinions continue to act like we are the captain of the kickball team, getting to pick who we want on our side.  Ugh.  Two thousand years later, countless sermons have been preached, so many faithful lives lived, and we still administer litmus tests of who is in and out.  We still say to immigrants, LGBTQ+, anyone with a beautiful skin tone other than white, anyone who struggles to live paycheck to paycheck, people who live with mental illness, and in so many other ways that they are not welcome at our party.  Who would you like to not include in the body of Christ today?  I know, the good person inside of us wants to shout, “No one!  I love everyone!”  But I know I have a list.  I know some people push my buttons, people whose words have wounded, people whose very presence sets my mind spinning.  It’s okay to have a list.  The question is not whether some people annoy us, but what we do when those folks show up with a whole new set of creative ways to frustrate and flummox us.  You really must admire the creativity of some people’s abilities to anger you.  Frustration is part of community.  To be clear, I am not saying that harm physically, emotionally, or spiritually should go unaddressed or swept under the rug.  Boundaries are needed and necessary.  Your body has boundaries.  There are things your body can do and cannot.  There is a place where I end, and the other begins.  Boundaries help us.  Sometimes I will quote Parker Palmer in a group and say, “No fixing, no saving, no advising here.”  No saying, “I know exactly how you feel.”  No projecting your conclusions onto another’s complexity.  This is so hard because our hand wants to tell our foot how to walk better.  But honestly, I can’t walk on my hands, so that appendage should stick to typing and bringing my cup of coffee to my lips.  Continue to let Paul’s image sing, stir, and speak to your life.  Are you trying to tell someone else how to live?  What boundaries are appropriate for our church to thrive?  How can we find ways to contribute our individual uniqueness and celebrate the diverse unity of being the church these days?  Amen.

Diversity within Us

 

This week, you are paying attention to the diversity that is within you.  The many ways your one body moves through this world.  The different ways your fingers move from your toes, from your knees to your bones.  How our diverse bodies cooperate ~ then we are sometimes in tension within ourselves.  When was the last time you felt tension physically?  Or maybe you felt tension between your head telling you one thing, while your heart was telling you another?  I remember last year when I was diagnosed with a frozen shoulder; I could not move my left arm.  To be sure, this was more inconvenient than painful…but there was certainly discomfort, and my left arm protested when I tried to do certain things.  A year later, I am better, but it took time.  Sometimes it is one part of our body that is hurting that we notice more.  Is there a part of your body that is hurting or aching?  Your back?  Your legs?  Your mind from the “too muchness” of this world?  Today, name the ache and pain to God.  On Sunday, we heard Paul say, “If one part (of the body) suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.”  1 Corinthians 12:26. Once we name the ache, can we name a joy we are carrying or a celebration from this week so far?  Your joy doesn’t have to be spectacular or involve receiving a plaque.  In fact, most meaningful moments don’t get a trophy.  ABC 7 doesn’t show up outside my front door to cover the breaking news of me loving my wife or texting my kids that I love them or that I tried to be a good human today.  Yet, the church is called to be a community of practice where concerns and celebrations are given space and place to be heard.  I invite you to phone a friend, FaceTime a family member, or go out for coffee with someone you can share your life with and open space for the other to do the same.  Don’t let 1 Corinthians 12:26 just be some good idea for another day; let us find ways to cultivate community and connection in meaningful ways.  Amen.

Breathe and Be in Your Body

 

As we listen to Paul’s wisdom about a body connecting and cooperating, one step is to listen to our own flesh, heart, mind, words, and life.  A few weeks ago, I did a body scan in worship.  Today, I invite you to do this prayer practice again.  This is taken from the website mindful.org

 

1.     Closing your eyes can be helpful to allow you to focus or soften your gaze.

2.     Bring awareness to the body breathing in and out, noticing the points where you posterior and back and legs make contact with the seat, how your feet touch the ground. Throughout this practice, allow as much time as you need or want to experience and investigate each area of the body.

3.     When you’re ready (no rush), intentionally breathe in, and move your attention to your mind.  What is whirling, whipping, or whooshing around in there right now?  What thoughts keep coming back looking for more attention?  Who are some of the people who rest or reside in your mind…some of whom you never invited!  Some might be squatting in your mind, not paying rent or offering anything meaningful.  Name aloud the thoughts, questions, people, celebrations and concerns so your ears can hear your thoughts.

4.     Breathe in and out ~ move to your five senses ~ what do you taste on the tip of your tongue?  Your last sip of coffee/tea/water.  What do you hear?  The noise of the ceiling fan or bird or lawn equipment.  What do you feel on your skin?  Is there any stress or strain in your jaw or shoulders or gut? 

5.    I encourage you to be curious and open to what you are noticing, investigating the sensations as fully as possible, and then intentionally releasing the focus of attention before shifting to the next area to explore.

6.     Each time your attention wanders, simply notice that this is happening, then gently and kindly (please try not to force anything) direct your attention back to exploring sensations in the body. Rinse and repeat until you’ve finished your entire body exploration.

7.     At the end of this exploration of bodily sensations, spend a few moments to expand your attention to feeling your entire body breathing freely.

8.     Open your eyes if they have been closed. 

 

I encourage you to close by saying the Lord’s Prayer or 23^rd Psalm or the Prayer of St. Francis or some meaningful words that connect you to the wider group of bodies that are inhabiting this planet right now.  Amen.

Embodying Our Faith

 

Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. ¹³ For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.  Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.  1 Corinthians 12:12-13

 

You are a combination and culmination of countless experiences and encounters.  You are a traveling art exhibit that has collected and curated in your one wild and precious life.  Some of the pieces you carry bring smiles to your face ~ like the beauty of a sunset at the Grand Canyon or the mystery of savoring one solo jellybean.  Other parts of the exhibit are a bit tattered and torn, weathered and worn, like that sweater I have with the elbows threadbare and buttons hanging on for dear life.  You are multitudes.  Just as your fingers help you hold your spoon at breakfast, your eyes help you read these words, and your mind is questioning, “Where is Wes going with all this?”, each part contributes to the collective.  In the verse above, Paul reminds us of the beauty of community and the necessity of diversity.  This is a lesson we are struggling mightily with right now.  More and more, we compartmentalize ourselves into groups that agree with us.  More and more, we prioritize belonging to certain groups.  More and more, we tribalize with those whom we accept, cancel those who are not, and demonize anyone who dares challenge our opinions.  Paul is saying to the Corinthians (and to us) that we need each other.  In fact, the more we can be close to someone who lives and moves through the world differently, the more I can see the world in new ways. 

 

C.S. Lewis once said that while reason is the natural organ of truth, imagination is the organ of meaning.  We keep arguing about truth (without ever talking about how our emotions and experiences skew what we understand or articulate as true).  What we are really thirsting for is meaning.  Meaning can be found in those times when our minds, hearts, souls, and energy of life are aligned with God and with others.  Meaning can be found when my life resonates with your life and the Spirit connects us.  Meaning is deeper than words; more than seeing is believing.  Meaning is always more than one person’s conclusion or conviction.  Meaning is an invitation to be held communally and collectively.  Meaning isn’t static but is always evolving and expanding.  Just as your body is constantly changing ~ shedding dead skin cells, blood flowing, thoughts forming, and life growing ~ so too meaning will never fit in the Tupperware containers stored in our minds. 

 

Today, I invite you to ponder the question, what is meaningful to you?  Where do you find meaning?  With whom do you search for meaning alongside?  On Easter, I asked the question, “What are you searching for?”  But that question is never explored in a vacuum.  It is a question that needs others to help us both listen to ourselves and expand beyond our own limits.  Who is someone who will both lovingly listen to you as you respond to this question and can help you discern the limits of your own conclusions?  If you would like to talk more about this, please contact me.  May our Easter-ing ways continue to expand and embrace the “more-than-ness” of our communal life.  Amen.

Prayer for Discernment

 

Re-Storied and Re-Shaped

 

So far this week, we have looked at Paul’s list of gifts.  You were encouraged to expand and explore that list.  I hope you have thought and are still thinking about your own giftedness and your reluctance or resistance to sharing your gifts with others.   Notice the plural on the word “gifts”.  I think each person has several ways they can show up and let their light shine.  You are not confined or contained in one way.  Just as I don’t think you only have one purpose in life, but seasons when you will shift and begin going a new way.  Some gifts persist throughout life, and then there are gifts that you have for a time and place.  Pause, is there a gift you used when working that is no longer needed or necessary?  Or is there a gift you are cultivating right now that ten years ago you never thought you would want or need?  As you ponder your giftedness and uniqueness and God’s call to blend your light with others, here are a few questions:

 

When did you feel most alive?  What are you doing and who are you with?

When do you find yourself losing track of time?

Ask a friend to reflect with you about when and how they experience you most alive.

What are your three favorite movies or stories (is there a common theme)?

What do you dream about?

What would a good day include (notice I said ‘good’, not perfect)?

What frustrates you about the world?

 

It takes a lifetime to sort through our lives because with every moment, you are being re-shaped and re-storied by those around you.  Taking a step back to ask, who am I, God?  Or who are You, God, calling me to be?  Listen for the Holy calling out to you like Jesus on the beach to the disciples who were fishing.  Can we, together, as a church, listen for the Easter-ing ways God is calling us to collaborate and cooperate and conspire with God in sharing the Good News in these days?  Let the questions infuse and inspire our living and being God’s people/community today.  

One Light that Shines Brighter with Others

 

As we explore the idea of giftedness, many of us were taught as children not to promote ourselves.  My grandmother would say, “Well, someone is getting too big for his britches.”  In other words, don’t step into the spotlight, don’t bring attention to yourself, stay on the sidelines silently.  In kinder terms, “go along to get along.”  At the same time, God crafts you with unique gifts for the good of the world.  You are the only you there is or will ever be.  We hold these two truths in tension that you are called to shine your light AND you are called to combine your light with others for a blaze of grace and love brighter than our individual candle.  For me, this is what we practice in worship each week.  I can’t play the organ or piano.  I can’t be a whole choir singing all parts.  I can’t produce the beautiful sound of a congregational song or feel what my opening prayer sounds like/evokes in my soul when we all join our diverse voices together.  The invitation of faith is to consider how you are uniquely created in God’s image and invited into the beauty of community.  To be sure, community is demanding and difficult.  Annoyance, hurt, and frustration are the price we pay for relationships that provide love, acceptance, and affirmation.  We can Google an answer to almost any question (regardless of whether the information spit back at us in less than a second is true or trustworthy), but Google can’t hold my hand when I weep or laugh with me at a lame joke in worship.  And dig deeper because you were not fashioned or formed in a vacuum.  You had parents, mentors, teachers, fellow students, and random people who showed up in your life (perhaps for no other reason than to annoy you and teach you how not to be in the world).  In the coming weeks, we will explore more about what the people and places of your life gave you for better or worse.  But for today, ponder who first celebrated your giftedness?  Who encouraged you along the path as a youth or at your first job?  Who, today, is still helping you grow in the ways you share and shine your light?  May each of us celebrate the great cloud of witnesses past and present who are helping us grow into the image of God right here and now.  

Blending and Bringing Together

 

Yesterday, I asked you to ponder the list of spiritual gifts Paul names for the church in Corinth, chapter 12.  I encourage you to think of definitions and descriptions for the nine gifts named: wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, powerful deeds, prophecies, discernment, tongues, and interpretation.  I invite you to add to this list with other gifts you see in yourself and others that contribute to the common good.  Part of what Paul is saying is that your gift is not just for your own benefit and accumulation.  You share and shine your light with/for the sake of others.  You share and shine your light in ways that combine with others who are doing the same.  As the Spirit blends and brings all our unique giftedness together, there is a brighter light of God’s love that shines forth.  Can you recall a time when you worked with others on a project that was a blessing?  I know our minds sometimes get stuck in high school with a project where you ended up doing 99.999% of the work, and everyone benefited from the A.  But that isn’t what Paul is saying.  He is pointing to a moment when each of us does what he/she/they can with God’s grace, and our gifts become greater than the sum of the parts.  Rather than keeping each gift isolated or apart, we bring them together in beautiful/life-giving ways.  In the mystery and marvel of the Spirit, when I bring my gifts, and you do the same, we find a new dimension that wouldn’t have been possible alone.   For example, when I share a piece of knowledge and then stop speaking to listen to others, I find that I learn from another person’s wisdom, experience, and faith.  My knowledge needs the gift of the other to properly function and continually grow.  Too often, we can be tripped up and trapped by the idea that it is only about our gift, and we want to be recognized.  But when my gift meets your gift with openness, willingness, and curiosity, God works in ways we never imagined or could have experienced on our own.  I invite you to think of a moment when this has been true for you.  How might our church continue to be a place where such creative collaboration is part of what we are about as we seek to cooperate with God in these days? 

 

Giftedness

 

Yesterday in worship, we listened to Paul tell the Corinthians that there are a vast variety of gifts.  There are gifts of wisdom and knowledge; faith and healing; powerful deeds and prophecies; discernment, tongues, and interpretation.

 

Did any of those nine cause your shy soul to say, “Tell me more!”?  If you had to write a definition of each of the above nine gifts, what might you say to describe each?  Can you give an example of a time when you witnessed or embodied that gift?  Where and when did you interact with wisdom, and where are you discovering knowledge in these days?  What does faith sound like, smell like, and feel like?  When have you witnessed a powerful deed or heard a prophetic word?  Do you feel a bit confused by discernment?  You might be suspicious of speaking in tongues, or tired of everyone giving you their opinion?  Review the list. Do you see some gifts as more admirable than others?  Do you find yourself rating and ranking?  Of course not, you say, I listened to the sermon yesterday and heard that was what the Corinthians were doing!!  Surely, we don’t prop up some people’s jobs as being more valuable than others.  Clearly, we have evolved beyond calling someone an “essential worker” and then treating and paying that beloved as anything but important.”  Some of you are catching the sarcasm in my writing.

 

I love how wisdom and knowledge are two separate gifts.  We often conflate and confuse these two as the same.  Not all knowledge is wisdom.  Sometimes people like to show off and pontificate.  They like to point out that a bottle of wine was made with the harvest of ‘08, which everyone knows was the best grapes of the last century.  By the way, I know nothing about wine, as if the previous sentence didn’t show that clearly enough.  Where do you notice a distinction and overlap between faith and healing? What does this dynamic duo suggest?  While each gift is distinctive, sometimes we can blend and bring together two or three of the nine gifts in unique ways.  For example, discernment and interpretation can dance together in helpful ways.

 

Today, look over the list and see which one sings to your soul.  Also, pay attention to where you resist seeing one of these as a gift.  Ponder which gifts you’d like the Spirit to cultivate and curate in you.  Today, think about how each gift can support the other gifts, shining God’s light these days.  Finally, I invite you to add to Paul’s list.  What gifts do you think are important for our common life together?  What unique way can you share and shine your light with family, friends, in our community, church, and country for the sake of our shared life?  May this question continue to stir and sing to your heart in this season of Easter.

In the Boat Prayer

 

In the Boat Part 4

 

This week, we have been playing with the images of your life as a sailboat ~ a vessel on the sea.  Today, I invite you to think about the weather around you.  Do you feel like the water is calm or chaotic?  Do you feel like waves are crashing down, tossing you to and fro, or that you are going nowhere?  What is the weather around you and within you?  And the reality is that sometimes there can be tension between what is around you and what is within you.  The weather may be sunny outside, but stormy in our souls.  Or maybe you feel the hurricane of culture, but feel a strange peace at the same time within.  During Holy Week, I introduced you to Hartmut Rosa and the idea of the uncontrollability of life.  You and I know we cannot control the weather (we can’t even really predict it!).  Rosa opens his book by talking about snow falling gently on his face.  He didn’t cause the snow to fall, he didn’t will it through his five-step plan, and he may not have even wanted it.  We don’t like to deal with or dwell on the uncontrollability of life.  Yet, this is a truth woven into your life and mine ~ individually and collectively.  Pay attention to the weather outside your window and gaze in the window of your soul today ~ describing and drawing what you are sensing as we all sail our boats on the seas of today.

In the Boat Part 3

 

Recently, I was introduced to a song, Sailboat, by Ben Rector.  I invite you to slowly read and savor these words.  Which of the lyrics leap off the page and stir your soul?  Which of the lines feel like they were written for you?  Which of the ideas and insights do you resist or feel like sandpaper to your soul?  You can Google the song if you’d like to hear it.

I feel just like a sailboat
I don't know where I'm headed
But you can't make the wind blow
From a sailboat

I have seen the sun
I felt the rain on my skin
I've been lost and found, yeah
Mostly, I've been waiting

I'm out in the waves and I'm hoping and praying
Please let this wind blow me home
And night after night, there's an empty horizon
My God, do I feel so alone
But sometimes life
And most times I feel just like a sailboat

And I'm pretty sure I'm heard
At least I know I'm speaking
But I feel like a fool
'Cause I can't hear you listening

But I'm not giving up
No, I will move on forward
I'm gonna raise my sail
God knows what I'm headed towards, yeah

I'm out in the waves and I'm hoping and praying
Please let this wind blow me home
And night after night, there's an empty horizon
My God, do I feel so alone
But sometimes life
And most times I feel just like a sailboat (Repeat/re-read this last stanza).

 

I know for me the line that stirs and swirls in my soul is, “I’m pretty sure I’m heard, at least I know I’m speaking.  But I feel like a fool, cause I can’t hear you listening.”  That, for me, is a profound and powerful insight into prayer.  I can’t always hear God listening to me.  I trust God is.  I know I am speaking, sharing, trying to sing to the sacred.  Sometimes my words fall flat.  Sometimes my words feel inadequate.  Sometimes I just sigh because the exhaustion of a world that moves too fast makes me dizzy and disoriented.  What responses do you have to the song above?  May these words be a balm to your soul as we are all trying to live in these Easter-days of life right now.

In the Boat Part 2

 

Afterward, Jesus appeared again to his disciples by the Sea of Galilee. It happened this way: ² Simon Peter, Thomas, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together.  “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.  John 21:1-3

 

Nothing, nada, zip, zilch, empty nets to match their empty hearts grieving the death of Jesus.  Remember that fishing was not just a vacation, but a vocation for disciples.  They were not amateurs; they knew what they were doing.  But even “experts” fail and falter, because we are all human-sized.  Even professionals strike out, miss free throws, make math errors, or can’t see what was coming next.  Even the best and brightest can be boneheaded at times.  I know that not every sermon I preach, morning meditation I write, or prayer I pray is gold.  God doesn’t ask for perfection but for practice and presence.  God pays attention to us and invites us to be awake and aware of God in our daily lives. 

 

Do you have a moment when you feel like your nets are empty?  Physically, emotionally, spiritually, relationally, in our country or world?  Empty nets where we keep turning to violence as a way of peace.  Empty nets of hate speech and belittling people.  Empty nets of churches seeing others as competition or constantly criticizing those people.  Empty nets of cynicism or denying/ delaying joy because it doesn’t seem trustworthy.  What empty nets are you finding as you are fishing from your sailboat this week?

 

I wonder, what did the disciples do as they waited?  I wish John had told us.  Did they play Skip-Bo or Solitaire?  Did they talk or just listen to God listening to them?  Did they sing hymns? If so, which ones?  Did they munch on trail mix or pace the length of the boat?  Did they mumble and grumble about how life was handing them lemons?  We don’t know.  But we do know, you know, what you do when you are waiting.  Waiting is a theme and thread not just in Advent but in these Easter-ing days right now too, as we approach Pentecost ~ the bursting and breaking in of the Spirit into our lives/church/world.  What are you waiting for?  Maybe the question about waiting has a connection to your thoughts above about empty nets?  Or maybe not.  Enter this scene.  Sit on the boat with the disciples.  And let your sacred imagination loose with what you are doing as you wait in these days.  Amen.

In the Boat Part 1

 

Afterward, Jesus appeared again to his disciples by the Sea of Galilee. It happened this way: ² Simon Peter, Thomas, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together.  “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.  John 21:1-3

 

The above scene takes place at some undisclosed, undefined time after Jesus pulled a Casper the Friendly Ghost by bursting and breaking into the room where the disciples had gathered after Easter.  Even though the door was locked, Jesus was able to enter.  Wait, push pause on that detail.  Where is the door of your heart, soul, and/or life locked right now?  Maybe locked out of fear or frustration?  Maybe locked as a safety precaution, but somehow the monsters of anxiety and anger still find a way to get in?  Part of the mystery of Easter is that scars don’t define us, but the sacredness of Christ, who can find a way in, too.  Both scars and sacredness mix and mingle together.  Where and when have you felt Christ’s presence in the month since Easter?  Where and when has Christ burst and broken into your ordinary day without an appointment?  Where and when have you felt the sacred Easter-ing promise of God even in these days?

 

When Jesus enters, he isn’t disappointed or wagging his finger with blame or shame.  No.  Instead, Jesus breathes the breath of life, shows them his wounds (because Christ holds the brokenness of this world alongside the blessedness), and Jesus says, “Peace” or shalom or wholeness or alignment of your mind, heart, soul, life, actions, and way of being.  So much of my life can feel out of kilter and off the rails right now.  So much of life can feel like it is racing toward a cliff and like Wiley E. Coyote will zoom off into thin air only to hold up a “Yikes!” sign before crashing and crumbling to the canyon.  So much of life doesn’t go according to my plotting and planning; has God not seen the brilliant ideas I have?  Or maybe God has seen my idea and is rubbing God’s forehead thinking, “See what I put up with?!?” 

 

Even with all the exterior evidence of Jesus’ death and resurrection, the disciples still were not sure.  When we have questions, doubts, and are not one hundred percent certain/confident, we are in good company.  This is part of being a disciple!  I wonder if part of the reason the disciples decided to go fishing wasn’t that they were trying to escape, but to process all this mystery that made their minds, hearts, and souls feel like hamsters on a spinning wheel.  I wonder if the Sea of Galilee was a sacred place?  One of the ways we process grief is to go to ‘thin places’ where we previously spent time with our loved ones.  One of the ways we process grief is by sitting in the Memorial Garden, knowing that, in some way, God and our loved one are there.  Fishing might have been a prayer discipline, not a distraction for the disciples. 

 

Is there a ‘thin place’ where you commune with the holy?  Is there a sacred space where you feel God hovering and humming?  Can you find time in this season of Easter to go there and listen to God?  If you go, let me offer you an invitation to ponder: what does it mean to you to pay attention to God paying attention to you?  I know that is a bit of a riddle but sit with the holy wisdom.  God pays attention to you.  God’s gaze is directed at you.  God’s presence is wherever you are.  Let this sit with you as you guide your sailboat on the waters of life this week. Amen. 

Prayer