Faith, Fear, and Tarzan the Motorcycle Man

A Sermon for Lent 2, Year C. 
Find the readings here.

When the Coronavirus pandemic struck five years ago this month, we had no idea what to expect, least of all how we might be forced to adapt and change because of it. Quite naturally, fear ensued. We’re still processing it. This week I came across a New York Times article about how Covid changed the lives of 29 people. Here are just a few examples:

In response to the uncertainty of the future and the protracted fear of contracting Covid, 72-year-old Donna Sintic from Santa Monica, California gave up trying to control things that were out of her control. She found herself becoming more grateful. 

Sarah Kelly, 35, from Winston Salem, North Carolina, who was finishing graduate school when Covid hit, ran out of her savings, moved back to her hometown and lives a much simpler life with the unanticipated joy of a five-month-old baby girl. 

Miguel Guzman, 56 from San Antonio, nearly died after contracting Covid. He is grateful to be alive and play his mariachi music. He says when he was facing his own death, he was most concerned about his family and how they would manage without him. 

A funeral director, Shawn’te Harvell, 56, from Elizabeth, NJ, was appalled by the way funerals changed during the pandemic. Sometimes it would be just the funeral home director and the deceased at the cemetery with families joining on Facetime. Shawn’te says Covid caused him to reevaluate the way he approaches funerals. 

A 22-year-old from Rosemont, Minnesota, Charles Huang, has never had Covid. He is still fearful in public and chooses to mask. Charles says the isolation is ongoing and painful.[1]

The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom then shall I fear, writes the psalmist.

Umm…let’s see, where to begin: reckless drivers, reckless politicians, doctors with scary diagnoses, drug dealers, arms dealers, bullies…friends who talk you into paragliding.

I am afraid of heights. On our recent vacation, we were on a narrow, windy unpaved road leading down, down, down, through the jungle to see one of those magnificent Costa Rican waterfalls when a motorcycle sped past us. At the bottom, the waterfall was beautiful. So was the young man disrobing down to his underwear and heading into the water. When he realized he had company, underwear motorcycle guy was totally unfazed. We made small talk as he emerged from the water, tugged on jeans, tee shirt and helmet, and revved up his bike. As he zoomed off, my husband Rob said, “There goes Tarzan.” The six of us, old college friends, had a good laugh. 

“Do not be afraid. I am your shield. Your reward shall be great,” God assured Abram when his faith appeared to waver. 

A couple of days later, I breathed through my fear of heights and accepted the challenge to go paragliding. My reward? My personal paragliding tour guide turned out to be Tarzan, the underwear-motorcycle guy. And he was just as charming and unruffled at 1500 feet as he was coming up and out of the water. Clearly, it’s all about faith.

The writer of Hebrews defines faith as the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Heb 11:1). Faith is more of a verb than a noun, a process rather than a possession, writes Frederick Buechner. While some suggest doubt is the opposite of faith, Paul Tillich considers doubt to be essential.[2]

Abram, later renamed Abraham, had faith—the quintessential patriarch also doubted. A lot. Like the dreaded circle of death on our computer screens, Abraham’s faith signal would be strong, then flicker, and then, return again as he struggled over his identity, his paternity, and even his masculinity.[3] Throughout his exceptionally long life, in his quest for a reliable, uninterrupted connection with God, Abraham offers consolation for our own often awkward, complicated faith journeys. God works through Abraham to propagate and populate and prove that God always makes good on God’s promises. But knowing when to wait and when to act can be tricky.

At age 86, in one example of flickering faith, Abraham and his wife Sarah decide to take matters into their own hands and start their family by forcing their servant Hagar to be their surrogate. Perhaps Father Abraham had developed a case of temporary amnesia, forgetting God’s promised vision, forgetting his own vision of light, still burning strong in the middle of his “deep terrifying darkness.”

Jesus, on the other hand, demonstrates for us how to stay the course even when things seem darkest. Last Sunday, Jesus was in the wilderness preparing for his ministry, this week Luke’s Gospel takes us to Jesus’ final weeks on the job. Despite having received his termination letter, Jesus is finishing up strong with no time for that “fox” Herod. His sights are set on Jerusalem, where prophets go to die. Fun fact: Jerusalem is mentioned 800 times in the Bible. Luke mentions it 23 times, more than any of the other three Gospels. Fellow etymology nerds might appreciate the meaning behind the name: Jerusalem means to inherit shalom, peace or wholeness.[4]

Jerusalem is in Jesus’ future. And he seems unafraid. Perhaps because he knows fear distracts us from our purpose. That fear prevents us from exercising our faith muscles, keeping us stuck in unhealthy patterns and habits. Perhaps because Jesus is fully awake to the light within; that perfect love that casts out all fear (1 John 4:18). 

Love that emboldens us to stand up for justice.[5]

Love that keeps us centered and present. 

Love that embraces vulnerability. 

Love that makes God’s presence more palpable – some call this union or oneness, the peace that passes all understanding… This love can carry us through just about anything.

There was a prayer jar in the meditation room of the hospital where I completed my clinical pastoral education last year. Each day as my chaplain colleagues and I pulled out the small scraps of paper on which people scribbled their darkest worries and fears, we were reminded of a strange paradox: It takes so much courage, it’s really the bravest among us, who can fully accept our total dependence on God. 

I encourage you to write down your worries and fears on that small orange sheet of paper you were given. Intentionally let go of it as you place it in the collection plate. Breathe through any doubts. As the psalmist writes, 

Be strong and God will comfort your heart. 

My friends, wholeness comes through both strength and vulnerability. A healthy balance of masculine and feminine… 14^th Century anchoress, two-time pandemic survivor and theologian, Julian of Norwich, shared her vision of God: “As truly as God is our Father, God is our Mother.”[6]

The Covid-19 pandemic may have changed us. And most assuredly the world will go on changing. And yet God’s love burns strong, in the middle of our darkest fears. Like a mother hen, God gathers us for such a time as this, enfolding us in Her love, even as He emboldens us for service to the world. May it be so.

Amen.

---

[1] Jenna Russell and Christina Morales, “How Covid Changed the Lives of These 29 Americans,” The New York Times, March 11, 2025, sec. U.S., https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2025/03/10/us/covid-19-changed-people.html.

[2]   Buechner, 4.

[3]   Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words, New York, (Harper Collins, 2004), 109.

[4] “Jerusalem Etymology Online, Origin and Meaning,” accessed March 8, 2025, https://etymologyworld.com/item/jerusalem.

[5] “Pauli Murray Center Denounces Removal of the Priest’s Biography from National Park Service Website,” Episcopal News Service (blog), March 10, 2025, https://episcopalnewsservice.org/2025/03/10/pauli-murray-center-denounces-removal-of-the-priests-biography-from-national-park-service-website/.

[6] “Julian the Theologian,” The Christian Century, accessed March 14, 2025, https://www.christiancentury.org/article/features/julian-theologian.

Goldie Hawn and the Three Bears

Once upon a time, during the days of quarantine, there was a yogi named Goldie - Goldie Hawn. For Goldie, quarantine had been not so bad, for she was a yogi. Her practice had made her strong. She knew how to breathe deeply when things got tough and how to stay flexible when life was challenging and seemed to be changing faster than usual.

Like many other Californians, she was also a vegan and an animal rights activist. She was an actress and she and her husband had made quite a nice life for themselves. Then the virus hit. They huddled together in their Hollywood mansion for the first few weeks. One day, after her husband Kurt Russell insisted that she watch The Computer Who Wore Tennis Shoes for the fourth time, Goldie decided it was time to get out of the house and take a walk.

Getting out of her pajamas for the first time in days, she dressed in her favorite Fabletics yoga ensemble, packed her understated faux leather Chanel bag, and headed out the door, blowing a quick kiss to Kurt who was deeply engrossed in the 70’s Disney blockbuster film in which he had the starring role.

She needed a break from Kurt. She needed to breathe some newly fresh Los Angeles air. Since the quarantine, the air had never been cleaner. She just needed to walk. Goldie needed to clear her mind. She also needed her roots done, but that's another story.

Heading east, she lost track of time. Soon she lost track of her location. Checking the GPS app on her iPhone she realized she had crossed the border into Arizona. Feeling good, she reached into her purse for a Kind bar and munched as she walked, thinking about the state of the world and wondering how this would all end. As she passed people wearing their masks she would wave and smile. With her own mask on, she was unrecognizable and she began to be grateful for her anonymity. For the first time in a long while, she felt connected like she was one with the rest of the world.

Before long Goldie realized she was already in Colorado and, while crossing the Rockies, her purse started to get really heavy. She thought she had packed lightly; some energy bars, an eco-friendly refillable water bottle, her phone charger, some essential makeup and hair products, a pair of chopsticks in case she found a decent Thai restaurant for carry out, and a few gummy bears she had bought at a dispensary back home. You can take the girl out of California…

Like Elise in First Wives Club, she discovered she needed to let go of her excess baggage if she were to be able to keep walking.

Like the resourceful soldier Judy in Private Benjamin would have done, she grabbed her cell phone and left her purse with the rest of her belongings on a log by a beautiful mountain lake and kept on moving eastward. Letting go of some things that had been weighing her down was not so hard for a yogi like Goldie. She didn’t even look back. 

She didn't know where she would end up and that had to be okay. 

One foot after the other, Goldie Hawn just kept walking.

After she had crossed into Kansas she was starting to feel like she needed a rest. Looking around she realized she was deep in a forest. Spotting a cabin off in the distance, Goldie headed in that direction. When she got to the door of the house, she knocked. No answer. She peeked in the window and didn’t see anyone. So she tried the front doorknob and it opened! Goldie noticed that the table was set and on it were three steaming bowls of mac and cheese. 

Her mouth started watering. She was famished. It had been way longer than the 90-minute eating intervals she had gotten used to since the quarantine had started. Ugh, I’m a vegan, she thought for a second or two. With a big sigh and a wary glance, she dug into the biggest bowl. It was cheesy, creamy, and delicious but it was too hot! She sampled the medium-sized bowl; much too cold. Then she tried the smallest bowl and it was so, well, so just right, so she scarfed it all down savoring every last bite!

After dinner, she was really, really tired. So she made her way into the living room where she found three comfy-looking chairs sitting in front of a blazing fireplace. She sat in the biggest chair but it was too hard. The middle-sized chair was too soft. But the baby-sized chair was, you know, just right, so she sat on down. Maybe her butt had gotten a little bigger during the quarantine because when she tried to get up out of the chair, she couldn’t. Taking the chair with her, she waddled to the bedroom where she found three beds. She didn’t even bother to try the two larger ones. She hopped right into the baby-sized bed, chair all stuck to her butt and fell fast asleep. 

Deep in her pasta coma, Goldie was snoring loudly when the bears came back from their walk. After seeing the missing mac and cheese, they followed the clues until they found her sleeping soundly, so comfy in baby bear’s bed.

Mama bear hushed the others and shooed them out the bedroom door as she gently pulled the chair from Goldie’s butt and covered her with a soft blanket. Papa bear noticed Goldie’s cell phone was dead so he plugged it into their charger. 

Baby bear lumbered back to the kitchen to find some more mac and cheese. 

Goldie ended up staying with the bear family for the next fourteen days. She apologized for breaking and entering and helping herself to their dinner. 

They had so much fun together. They relaxed, practiced yoga, played lots of board games, and watched old reruns of Laugh-In. Baby bear learned to say “Sock it to me, sock it to me, sock it to me!”

And after the pandemic was over, they remained great friends, Goldie pledged to work harder to help save their polar bear cousins. And, of course, they all lived happily, healthily ever after.

What do you call a bear with no teeth? A Gummy Bear!

What kind of shoes do bears wear? No shoes silly, they are barefoot!

If you would like to hear the bedtime story and practice yoga: Nightcap Yoga Practice
Here's a Mary Oliver Poem that I read at the end of the practice:

Spring

Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring

down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring

I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue

like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:

how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge

to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else

my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its glass cities,

it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;

all day I think of her -—
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.

From: 

 New and Selected Poems 

Copyright ©: 

 Mary Oliver

Peace and Namaste,

Connie

Connie Bowman is an actress, podcast host, yoga teacher, and author of several books, including There's an Elephant in My Bathtub, Super Socks and Back to Happy. Follow her on Instagram @conniebowmanactressauthoryogi