Why are There so Many Songs About Rainbows?

Link to Lectionary Page for Lent 1, Year B

Let us pray: Gracious and loving God, creator of all things colorful and mysterious, seen and unseen, grant us courage to faithfully encounter the storms and vicissitudes of life, wisdom to guide us, hope to sustain us, and joy in the promise of your abiding presence. Amen.

 

Living here near the water, I suspect some of you have or maybe have had a boat. Weird random question: Have you ever had the occasion to hire a boat detailing company? If so, do you happen to recall the name of the company?

A couple of weeks ago, I was driving North on Ocean Highway to All Saints. I had just started working on this sermon. Pondering the significance of Noah’s Ark story, I had been listening to some songs about rainbows on Spotify. There are quite a few of them. It’s truly a gift to drive such a scenic route to work. I don’t take it for granted. At the entrance to the Indian River Inlet Bridge with that gorgeous vista of shimmering sunlight on water, I was feeling grateful and inspired to dive deeper into the story of Noah. As I ascended the bridge, a white van shows up in the lane next to me. In bright cobalt blue lettering, there were two words: Ark Details. You can’t make this stuff up!

The story of Noah is a familiar one - certainly, a Sunday School favorite. God warns Noah about the impending flood and instructs him in great detail to build a big boat, an ark. God gets very specific in Genesis 6:

“Make yourself an ark of cypress wood; make rooms in the ark and cover it inside and out with pitch. This is how you are to make it: the length of the ark three hundred cubits, its width fifty cubits, and its height thirty cubits. Make a roof for the ark, and finish it to a cubit above, and put the door of the ark in its side; make it with lower, second, and third decks.” (Genesis 6:14-16, NRSV)

God is in the details, it seems, even architectural ones. 

C’mon, all those animals! And that spectacular rainbow; a sign of God’s new covenant with God’s people.

I get why there are so many songs about rainbows.

They’re pretty incredible. 

 

One day during the pandemic, I noticed some of my neighbors standing in the middle of the street looking up at the sky. When I went outside to see what was up, there was a gorgeous rainbow encircling our home. Our house was perfectly centered inside it. Our neighbors hadn’t seen one another much since the pandemic started. From a safe distance, we caught up as we stood awestruck, gazing upwards. 

 

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky, also in the faces of people passing by. Thanks Louis Armstrong.

 

Here’s a little-known intro to perhaps our most familiar song about a rainbow. See if you recognize it:

When all the world is a hopeless jumble
And the raindrops tumble all around
Heaven opens a magic lane

When all the clouds darken up the skyway
There's a rainbow highway to be found
Leading from your windowpane to a place behind the sun
Just a step beyond the rain

(You know it! Somewhere over the rainbow…)

Songs, stories, images of rainbows can inspire hope when all we see is darkness. Like in a global pandemic. 

Of course, some suffered more than others. Kids are still catching up in school. A lot of us are still grieving. 

 

It was scary. Life changing. Death dealing. I might even go so far as to say it was like a flood. If you have lived through a flood, you know what I am talking about. 

 

The ancient Israelites knew this kind of devastation. Their “flood” was losing everything that was beloved and familiar; their land, their community, their culture, their religion…

 

When we read the Hebrew Bible through the lens of exile, loss, and grief, through the lens of racism or refugee crisis, we can get a whole different picture. Scholars believe Genesis isn’t the only book of the Bible written during or soon after the Babylonian exile. (Think Daniel, Ezekiel, Esther, Ezra, portions of Isaiah...) 

The ancient Israelites were a faithful people, living close to the Earth, whose land had been taken away. To process their losses and preserve the stories of their culture for future generations, even the difficult and violent parts, words, stories, histories, and poetry were shared and passed down. Jesus knew these words and the devastating trauma his Jewish ancestors had experienced. 

In this week’s Gospel, the writer of Mark seems to use only the necessary words. Mark leaves out specific details, which we get in Matthew and Luke. Instead, we hear Jesus is driven by the Spirit to the wilderness. There are wild beasts and angels. We learn that John the Baptizer has been arrested and that Jesus goes right to Galilee to proclaim that the kingdom is near. Believe the good news! 

Mark was writing for an early church under oppression. Mark’s sense of urgency may be showing up in his words, or lack thereof. Perhaps his intention was to encourage new Christians to quickly spread the good news. The kingdom is near. Repent (in Greek, meaning a capacity for change). For Mark’s readers, news of John’s arrest may have been a warning to be cautious. Perhaps we are to pay attention to what the Gospel writer is not saying about Jesus’ time in the wilderness. When under stress, our human tendency can be to focus on the negative. Have you noticed? Social scientists label this negativity bias. 

Negativity bias can affect the way we think, act, and move through the world and, over time, can have less-than-desirable effects on our mental and physical health. After a while, it becomes a habit.

Did your focus land on the flood or the rainbow? Satan or the angels? Fear or good news? Did the wild beasts seem threatening or adorable? 

For a seminary class, we are reading Burnout by Emily and Amelia Nagoski. In it, the authors share research about the importance of completing the stress cycle. We know chronic stress causes dis-ease. Paying attention to the physiological stress responses of our bodies is critical to our wellness. When chronic stress sends us into fight, flight, or freeze, the authors say, we must complete the cycle. The way to complete the cycle is instinctual. What do we do when we are being chased by a lion? We run! The authors say moving our bodies is the single most efficient way to complete the cycle – just 20 minutes a day can be enough.

But there are other ways. There’s breathwork. A six-second kiss or a twenty-second hug. I would add prayer. And I wonder if the physical act of writing down our stories could be another healthy way of completing the stress cycle. The ancient Israelites seemed to feel it was important. 

We might meditate quietly on our psalm for today:

“Show me your ways, O LORD, and teach me your paths.” 

Friends, God is in the details of our lives and our Lent. We are God’s beloved. Remember to look up.

I’ll leave you with this blessing from Psalm 25 vs. 3, Eugene Peterson’s The Message translation:

From now on every road, you travel
Will take you to God.
Follow the Covenant signs;
Read the charted directions. 

 

 

Thoughts and Prayers: Steps Toward Positive Change...for Seniors

 

In this article in the New York Times, we find that Covid is still disproportionately affecting our senior population, resulting in more frequent hospitalization for those over 65 and, sadly, in all too many cases, death. For some, the stress of hospitalization adds an added layer of stress which can set off a litany of a whole new set of symptoms that can sometimes require repeated hospital stays. Covid can trigger a downward spiral for seniors. 

 

Researchers at the National Institutes of Health have found that, while sometimes lifesaving, hospital stays can also be dangerous for the senior population. The lack of sleep, poor nutrition, and disruption of daily schedules can elicit unhealthy stress responses that can exacerbate existing physical, mental, and cognitive decline.

 

The pandemic has revealed the myriad insufficiencies in our current healthcare system, which functions in tandem with family caregivers who, more and more, struggle to help their loved ones due to pervasive systemic challenges. In many cases, families are left to make life-and-death decisions for their loved ones. In many cases, caregivers are burned out, depressed, and/or dealing with health challenges of their own. Disturbingly, recent studies have reported numerous health concerns for long-term caregivers for whom options for support are limited.

 

What can we do to better serve our senior population? How can we support caregivers who unselfishly provide crucial support to loved ones in the final years of their life? Where can religious organizations step in? Where does healthcare need to step up? What are some promising steps that are already being taken? 

I welcome your thoughts. And your prayers. 

 

 

 

Mindful Monday: Speaking (and Singing) our Truth

 I might have a slight throat chakra blockage.  

I have come to appreciate that there is wisdom in the Tantric Chakra system, which I learned about in my yoga practice and teacher training. The word chakra means wheel or disk. The chakras are spinning wheels of energy that facilitate the smooth, balanced movement of energy in our physical, emotional, and spiritual bodies. As long as we are living and breathing, our wheels are turning in an effort to keep us healthy and to help us evolve spiritually in the physical world. When we die, we close the final gates, the yogis say, and we spread our wings and fly to the next life. We let go. We are free from the physical restraints of the body. 

 

I was raised in the Christian tradition and am on the ordination track to become a priest, so some might say I am heretical to even consider the benefits of the study of another faith tradition. I beg to differ. Respectfully. We can learn a lot from other traditions and would be wise to open our hearts and minds to the wisdom that is available to us from other contexts. That is the key to peace, in my humble opinion.

Back to my throat chakra imbalance. I didn’t forget (which, incidentally, can be a symptom of a blocked throat chakra!) While I have been grieving the loss of my earthly father, who died recently after a short period of in-home hospice care, I have also been studying in seminary. God willing, I will be ordained a priest in the Episcopal Church in the next couple of years. Crazy, right? I know. But it is a thing. I have been on this path for several years now, discerning in community about my potential call. It is not one to be taken lightly, and there are gates (kind of like the gates of the chakras, actually) that we pass through at several different junctions to ensure that this path is right for me and for the Christian community I will eventually serve. It is sometimes intense. And it is a mysterious and mystical journey I would not want to miss. As an added bonus, I have made some wonderful new friendships along the way.

 

Meanwhile, back at the brilliance of the chakra system, one might say the heart and the head have been working overtime. With all the studying and paper writing, alongside the loss of my beloved dad, there has been a lot of activity in the heart chakra and up in the head as well. Right there in the middle lies the throat chakra, the center of our communication, our energetic connection between our mind and our body. The yogis have a symbol for it, and it is associated with the color blue. But I see the throat center as an outward expression of our soul, to get very real about it. The throat is a portal through which our deepest truth is revealed. That is why singing can be experienced as such a vulnerable thing. 

 

I have always felt singing to be a joy. I sang in the church choir as a kid. I sang in musical theatre productions for many years, and I was a professional a cappella Christmas caroler for more than fifteen years of my adult life. Singing is a joy for me. But when I was asked to officiate a sung evening service at my seminary recently, I practically freaked out. Fortunately, I had been Zooming into classes after the death of my father, and I was not available, but I still freaked out. “I don’t know how to do that! How could they expect me to sing something I have not even rehearsed? I am a professional. I need rehearsal!” Suffice it to say, there was resistance in my throat chakra to this simple request that wasn’t even going to happen anyway. But my somewhat unbalanced emotional response was telling. I am grateful for the truth that this potential train wreck of an opportunity (as I saw it) had to offer. 

 

In many ways, our capacity to move through the grieving process is involved with our ability to wrap our minds around our losses and allow them to be processed in and through the physical body. If there is fear or an extreme amount of stress or trauma, our natural ability to move energy through our system can be challenged. 

 

All the chakras are important, but when we are grieving, it makes a lot of sense to care for our throat center. We can do this by drinking lots of clean water and soothing teas and wrapping our necks with a warm scarf when it is cold out. We can make sure to gently move that area daily and swallow in our throat to keep that area supple and relaxed. We can consciously breathe into the throat center to activate that area. We can practice a yoga practice like this one from my YouTube channel. And we can meditate on this area to clear our throat chakras when we sense that they are needing extra attention. For me, yoga has been nothing short of a gift. Paying mindful attention has become a vital part of my self-care and a lovely companion to my Christian formation. 

 

My throat chakra affirmation: I speak and sing my truth with compassion and love. 

 

What is your throat chakra affirmation?

 

 

Praying for Pigeon

 Love one another.

      ~~Jesus

In all the busyness this week, I almost missed it. A subtle but profoundly clear message from the universe. At the end of a long exhausting week, it was Emma, the pretty, perky yoga instructor in her crop top, yoga shorts, and baseball cap, who literally and figuratively straightened me out. As we settled in on our mats, she introduced her new fiancé to the class. The burly, bearded, precious young man/yogi unapologetically took up prime real estate in the front row of class. He was there for Emma; this was evident. And Emma showed her gratitude by dedicating the class to her beloved.

Like many yoga teachers, Emma started class with a dharma talk, a short sermon-like speech about something the teacher deems important. Emma reminded the class on this day that we should make it a point to appreciate our “people,” those folks who love us, show up for us, and care for us. To further drive home her message, Emma’s playlist included one love song after another, ending the practice with Ellie Goulding’s How Long Will I Love You? It was a little distracting but also very sweet. 

 

I had come to the class to be taught by someone else; to practice, I reminded myself. I didn't want to think. Yet predictably, my thoughts frequently drifted from the present moment, thinking about Emma’s choice of music, the rising temperature of the crowded room, or a random foot that landed unexpectedly in my face. At some point in the class, I found myself praying for pigeon pose.  

Eka Pada Rajakapotasana, or Pigeon pose, is no joke. With one leg extended back and the other at a near right angle in front, it is a hip opener of epic proportions. Pigeon challenges you to breathe deeply and stay in the moment. It is an invitation to stay and be with discomfort. It is said that pigeon can release pent-up emotions that we unconsciously store in our hips. Sometimes in a hip opener, emotions arise, and our job, our practice, is to observe them without judgment. This is, according to yogic wisdom, how the challenging emotions are dislodged from the body. I always feel better after pigeon, and so I prayed.

 

Prayers have been flowing a lot this summer. I have prayed for my “people” and my people’s people. I have prayed for the world and for my own little world, which has enlarged to include a cohort of seminary friends and professors. And as a new semester is before me, I pray for the grace to navigate new lessons, new ideas, and unfamiliar territory. Because sometimes, I tend to grit my teeth and push through incredibly tough things without leaning on others, I pray for the wisdom to ask for help when I need it. 

 

At one point during a static pose, I think it might have been a standing split; I found myself thinking about my Thursday morning chair yoga class that I love teaching so much. This past week two of the women brought their husbands to class. Like Emma and her betrothed, I found myself wondering about my students’ relationships and how they had decided to attend class together. I wondered if Ed, wearing compression socks on both legs, had come with his wife Catherine willingly or under some duress. I wondered about Greg and his wife Ginny. How long had they been together? What did Greg hope to get out of class? Was he there to please or support his wife Ginny?

 

The average age in my chair yoga class is probably about 80 years young. One student turned 93 over the summer. These folks show up to take care of themselves, their bodies, minds, and spirits. And they, no doubt, want to take care of their people too. In the sweaty flow class I took with Emma at the helm, I suspect the average age is about 40 years younger than my chair class. They, too, likely want to take care of themselves and their people. Because we tend to teach what we want to learn more about, it’s the reason I became a yoga teacher. I want to be healthy, strong, and wise at 93.

 

So, I practice and try to stay present, but it’s often a struggle. In my persistent praying for pigeon, I almost missed what Emma and her darling future husband, Ed, Catherine, Greg, and Ginny, had to teach me this week. Sometimes the important stuff is just below the surface of our awareness, waiting to be discovered. Like one of Jesus’ most excellent parables, it takes a certain amount of open-hearted vulnerability to unveil its wisdom.

                                                            Love your "people."                         

                                                                   ~~Emma

 

I love my people. I am blessed with really good people. I am grateful for all of them; a loving, supportive husband who brings me coffee and, over the years, has become a really fine listener.  A loving mother, father, sister, brother, kids, nieces, nephews, friends, and all of their people are in my prayers. But Emma is right. I need to let them know more often how very much I love and appreciate them; how special they are to me. 

 

Close to the very end of class, guess what? Emma masterfully cued us into the juiciest pigeon pose. My tired body gratefully surrendered to its wisdom. Soon afterward, as I lay on my mat in a blissful pool of savasana sweat, I found myself praying silently for a cool lavender-scented cloth for my forehead.

 

“As you settle into your savasana,” Emma announced sweetly, “I’ll be coming around with a cool lavender-infused cloth.” 

 

A Prayer for Our "People"

Gracious and loving creator, thank you for the blessing of people; our people, our people’s people, and all of theirs.

Bless us and help us to remember to cherish them as you cherish each one of us.

Help us to be open to learning from one another, young, old, and everyone in between.

Help us to see below the surface of things to what really matters. 

Remind us to use the gift of breath to move gracefully through challenges and grant us wisdom to know when to ask for help. 

With gratitude, in all the holy names of God, we pray.

Amen.

 

 My parents; two of my favorite people.

 

 

 

Reality and Resurrection

 This week’s practice sermon uses the readings from the lectionary, particularly the following reading from the Gospel of Luke.

Luke 14:1, 7-14

On one occasion, when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.

When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. "When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, `Give this person your place,' and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place so that when your host comes, he may say to you, `Friend, move up higher; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."

He also said to the one who had invited him, "When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."

Just a reminder, lest we forget, Jesus was Jewish. But, like Christianity today, Judaism in the first century was diverse. There were different groups with differing beliefs and practices, like the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the Essenes, and others. 

As we read last week, Jesus was raised to be a good Jewish boy who knew his Hebrew scripture. Though they were sometimes criticized in the Gospels, the Pharisees were Jesus' peeps. Despite the negative press conferred upon the Pharisees by Luke in his gospel, in the first-century Jewish context, they were considered to be highly respected teachers. According to one source, there may have been as many as 6000 Pharisees living around the time of the first century. They were a powerful group that wielded influence with the political authorities of the day. Some of the better-known Pharisees are Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, and the Apostle Paul. The Pharisees were a sect of Judaism that had disputes, not so much with Jesus but with the more elitist Sadducees. Among their differences was a belief in bodily resurrection, which the Sadducees fervently disputed. The Pharisees, as mentioned in the text from this week, were watching Jesus closely. No doubt, his miracles and healings had captured their attention. No doubt they wanted to know what made Jesus tick. They may have even wanted to protect him.

Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, and Paul were Pharisees who played key roles in the Jesus story, using their money, power, and influence to move the Christian mission forward. One might go so far as to say these three, each in their own way, risked everything to ensure resurrection.

So, it’s no surprise that Jesus would be invited to dine with the Pharisees, maybe after preaching and teaching in a Synagogue, as he and his disciples made their way toward Jerusalem. Much like last week’s Gospel text, Jesus immediately picks up on the body language of the guests at the meal, noticing how they jockey for power with the seating arrangement. In classic Jesus form, he busts out a parable, telling the group about proper etiquette while attending a wedding banquet. “Don’t dare take the best seat, lest you risk being sent to the children’s table. No, instead, take the lowest seat, which will secure you a higher seat at the head table with the big wigs.”

Then, I imagine Jesus took the host of the dinner aside, looked him straight in the eye, and gave him the secret sauce he had been waiting for. “Next time,” Jesus confided, “invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. They are the ones you must serve. That is how you learn about resurrection.” 

The song You Raise Me Up, performed by Josh Groban, always gives me goosebumps when I hear it. His voice is just like butter, the really delicious, creamy, fattening kind. 

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary; 

When troubles come, and my heart burdened be; 

Then, I am still and wait here in the silence, 

Until you come and sit awhile with me. 

(Sing with me)

 

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains; 

You raise me up to walk on stormy seas. 

I am strong when I am on your shoulders. 

You raise me up... To more than I can be.

 

When you become a postulant for holy orders and begin seminary, the Church expects you to find a spiritual director to help you navigate the process. Personally, I think it’s also helpful to have one or two close friends to bounce spiritual ideas around with. The Celts call this friendship Anam Cara, or soul friend. My Anam Cara is a precious longtime friendship. Over the years, we have shared some of the hardest parts of our lives and the most joyful ones. Together we try to discover where God is showing up in each of our stories. She is such a good listener that she detects, from what I say and don’t say, God, working in my life when I cannot see it for myself. I try to do the same for her. After our conversations, I always feel better and have a broader perspective. There have been times, however, when we have spoken hard truths to one another that were difficult to both say and hear. For example, on one occasion, I called my friend to ask if she felt I was being selfish in my handling of a certain situation. She hesitated for a brief moment and then said tentatively, “Sorry, but actually, yes.” I was momentarily taken aback. But she was right. I love her for that. She listened. And she responded with truth that was born of love for me.

 

The Pharisees listen to Jesus as he shares difficult truths with them. 

“He who exalts himself will be humbled. He who humbles himself will be exalted.” 

 

Sometimes, life humbles us.

 

There’s another song that gives me goosebumps, The Wind Beneath My Wings, sung by Bette Midler. It came on the car radio at a particular moment on the worst day of my life, as my family and I left Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh after the sudden death of our six-year-old daughter, Meghan. I was in a daze, as you can imagine, wondering how in the world I would go on without her. This song came on the radio. It was a song we sang along to often as we drove together to all the regular places – school, the grocery store, piano lessons, and her frequent medical appointments. In the car, we would sing full-out. She knew all the words. It was such a common, pleasant occurrence that I probably took it for granted. Until it was no more. 

 

In the car on that sad day, suddenly, I could sense Meghan’s presence. “Did you ever know you were my hero…” We had gone through so much to keep our daughter alive. “You’re everything I wish I could be.” It had been a long six years and, at the same time, far too short. “I can fly higher than an eagle.” As we drove home to Maryland in a fog of grief, “You are the wind beneath my wings” played over and over in my head. My long grief journey was just beginning, but for several moments I imagined my daughter was speaking (singing) to me from another realm, somehow saying, “Thank you. I love you. I am with you,” through Bette Midler, in a car somewhere on the outskirts of Pittsburgh, Pa. That strange but comforting awareness was pure grace. That’s the only way I know how to explain it.

 

Jesus knows how difficult it can be to be human and what a risk it is to be a disciple. He is willing to go the distance, all the way to the cross. But he knows the grief that remains for those who are left behind. And he knows the work that must be done to ensure the coming of the Kingdom, much of it thanklessly, covertly, behind the scenes. 

 

This is the humility that changes the world, the humility that is inspired by great love. We witness it in the love of a parent, a spouse, friend, teacher, coach, nurse, social worker, stranger, or even occasionally a Pharisee. This is the humility that listens and responds truthfully and the one who is open to receiving difficult truths. It is the humility that can help to ensure resurrection. 

 

As the Pharisees sat around the table with Jesus, perhaps as hungry for his words and teachings as his disciples, I imagine they did listen. I imagine some of them also grieved at his crucifixion. Luke’s Gospel tells a powerful story of Jesus, born a human, who lived and breathed and loved and grieved and probably felt goosebumps on occasion. After his death on the cross, Jesus shows up again in his resurrection body to let his disciples know it’s not over; that love doesn’t go away after death. I imagine his message to his beloved friends and followers: “Thank you. I love you. I am with you.” 

 

That horrific day in the car, when I needed it most, I somehow grasped the reality of resurrection. Not in my muddy, grief-stricken mind. In my humility, my heart picked up the transmission, and I received the unlikely gift of a love song from an empty tomb. At our very lowest, there is always hope. Everything bears within it the promise of resurrection. That also gives me goosebumps.

 

There is no life no life without its hunger

Each restless heart beats so imperfectly

But when you come, and I am filled with wonder

Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains

You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas

And I am strong when I am on your shoulders

You raise me up, to more than I can be

You raise me up, to more than I can be

~~Music, Rof Lovland, Lyrics, Brendan Graham 

What does this practice sermon/reflection evoke in you? Where have you noticed signs of resurrection in your life? Is there a question for God, a prayer, or an action that is arising within you? 

Here is a yoga practice for moving through grief.

 

Up Hearts!

 The scripture passages for this practice sermon come from the lectionary, with particular focus on the following Gospel reading. 

 

Luke 13:10-17 

Now Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. And just then, there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, "Woman, you are set free from your ailment." When he laid his hands on her, she immediately stood up straight and began praising God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, "There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day." But the Lord answered him and said, "You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it away to give it water? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?" When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing. 

 

The LORD will guide you continually,
and satisfy your needs in parched places, and make your bones strong.

~~Isaiah 58:11

 

“Lift up your hearts,” we hear at the beginning of our Eucharistic Prayer. “We lift them to the Lord,” the congregation replies. This is called the Sursum Corda. Translated, it literally means lift up your heart or “up hearts!” It is the first part of our Eucharist, officially called the Preface, but because I am a yoga teacher, I like to call this the yoga section. It is an invitation to open our hearts toward God. Whether in our hearts and minds or physically or both, we are called to assume a brighter posture as we open to receive Christ into our very being.

 

Good posture is essential to our flourishing. Poor posture can negatively impact us in body, mind, and spirit. Poor posture can affect our ability to breathe well, which nourishes our cells and tissues. It also impacts our balance, our ability to experience a state of equilibrium. When our balance is off, we are more prone to falling. Balance is especially important as we age. It’s something we can work on every day, and we probably should. 

 

As we know, Jesus has a way of knocking the political and religious establishment off balance. Last week it was the crowds of people who had come to hear him. This week he calls out the religious officials in the synagogue. If this were to happen today, someone would likely be in danger of being canceled.

 

In a podcast interview, Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg discusses the way ancient Hebrew scriptures are interpreted and modernized by scholars and theologians to better relate to people in their current time and place. It is a wonderful discussion of repentance as given in the Talmud, simplified and made practical, using five steps given by the medieval philosopher Maimonides. The five steps are confession, making amends, beginning to change, apology, and choosing differently. Repentance and forgiveness are healing for individuals and can likewise bring healing to a community. In our current cancel culture, we could certainly benefit from this ancient rabbinic wisdom. 

 

Jesus knows his Hebrew scripture. He knows about the importance of repentance and forgiveness. And he knows about Sabbath as a day to rest in God and with God. Sabbath is a good thing, a healthy practice for individuals and communities. We could use a little more intentional observance of the Sabbath in our fast-paced secular culture. Jesus is teaching in a synagogue when an unnamed, bent-over woman appears. She has suffered from a spinal condition for eighteen long years. It hurts to even think about her condition.

 

As Luke tells this story, the woman had been vexed by a certain “spirit” that caused her crippling posture for a very specific length of time, the past eighteen years. According to Rabbi Alex Chapper, the number 18 has some interesting correspondences. For example, it is written in the Jewish Talmud that there are 18 vertebrae in our human spine. (There are differing theories about how this came to be determined.) In the Torah, religious patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are mentioned 18 times. The Amidah, the central prayer of every Jewish service, contains 18 blessings. In the Shema, God’s name is mentioned 18 times. It’s also in the 18^th chapter of Leviticus that we read, “You must obey my laws and be careful to follow my decrees and laws…I am the Lord.” In this chapter, there are also lots of laws about inappropriate sexual conduct and the serious repercussion of exile from the community. I imagine Jesus was well aware of this.

 

On this particular sabbath, Jesus notices a woman in the synagogue who is unable to stand upright. She appears to be suffering. Without pausing to ask permission, Jesus calls to her, lays his hands on her, and frees her from her 18-yearlong ailment. Indignant is the adjective Luke uses to describe the reaction of the synagogue leader. The Greek translation of the word is more like grieved or disappointed. How could a person of faith possibly be disappointed knowing that a member of the community has been restored to wholeness? He goes off on a rant about the law about observing the Sabbath, which leads to Jesus’ labeling as hypocrites the whole lot of religious leaders. Religious people can be so touchy! 

 

To be a hypocrite is to put on a false appearance of virtue or piety. Perhaps the religious leaders knew this woman who showed up at the synagogue. We don’t actually know why she was there. Could there be more to this story? What we do know is that Jesus touched her. Finally, she could stand tall. The crowd goes wild. I can just imagine a slow clap that builds to full-out applause. They are enthralled that Jesus heals people. That people take priority over laws, religious leaders, patriarchy, and power. 

 

Remember last week when Jesus spoke of division in families? Here, we encounter it again. This time it's between the religious leaders and the people. Are we not today divided about how best to interpret and enforce our laws? It would be hypocritical to say we are not divided on gender issues, even, and especially, in the church. Where are the marginalized, bent-over folks who could use healing? We don’t have to look far.

 

How can we restore the broken back into the community? It’s much easier to simply ignore or cancel them. What good is a church if it doesn’t make this its mission? The poet Tennyson wrote (indulge my paraphrase) that our reach should exceed our grasp. Or, what’s a heaven even for? 

When we are conscious, compassionate, and courageous, like Jesus, we work to restore our beloved community. This means doing the hard work of repentance and forgiveness continually. Relationships are never static. They are always moving towards wholeness or dissolution. Love requires vigilance and awareness. You’ll recall that when Jesus noticed

the woman, he stopped what he was doing to help. That’s staying awake. We are likewise called to stay awake. Being intentional about Sabbath can help us live more conscious lives. But being obsessive about it will always throw us off balance.

 

You might be thinking this is a lot of work, this being a Christ follower. Lift up your hearts. This is astonishingly good news. Jesus has got our backs. (Pun intended.) Emmanuel, God with us, redeems, restores, and raises us to behold the eyes of the beloved. Jesus is straight up about how we are to do the same. "Love your neighbors as yourselves." He shows us how, by taking time to care for the “least of these,” our neighbors in peril. They are loved. We are loved. We are loved whether we show up every Sunday for church, only at Christmas and Easter, or not at all. We don’t have to ask for this love. It is freely given. 

What is your posture on that? 

 

Here’s a yoga practice for opening the heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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 This week’s practice sermon uses these readings from the lectionary. Not going to lie; this week's readings were challenging. 

Remember the television show Name That Tune? Can you name this tune in 17 words…
 
There was a time when I was 
in a hurry as you are
I was like you…

Do you recognize these lyrics? 
 
If you listened to pop radio in the seventies, you would probably recognize this song. 
 
Olivia Newton-John’s passing this week has sent me on a bit of a trip down memory lane. I was lucky enough to have been in her luminous presence for a couple of days. When I was 17, I booked a small part in the movie Grease, flew out to California, and spent time on the set during the summer between high school and college. It was quite the experience!
 
Grease appealed to a broad segment of society; to the Baby Boomers and the Gen Xers who came after them. Maybe also the Silent Generation. Do you know the Silent Generation?
 
This is the first ever defined generational group. It refers to those folks born between 1926 and 1945 who lived through both the Great Depression and World War Two. An article in Time magazine in the 1950s described the children of this generation as taught to be seen and not heard, work hard, and keep their heads down. This group is disciplined, loyal, value-based, and prefers direct communication over technology. 
 
The children of this group were, for the most part, the Baby Boomers who ushered in the concept of a generation gap. The sociological theory of a generation gap first came around in the 1960s, when the younger generation (aka baby boomers) seemed to rebel against everything their parents had previously believed, from their music to their values and political views.
 
Remember the phrase "Don’t trust anyone over 30?" That became one of the most memorable expressions of the turbulent 1960s era during the height of the Free Speech Movement at UC Berkeley. The Free Speech Movement was initiated by students wanting to express themselves politically on campus, which ultimately helped catalyze broader political activism on campuses around the country over student rights, civil rights, and the Vietnam War. The kids of the silents didn’t trust their elders, even their own families. The Baby Boomers were big and loud, experienced many changes, and expected things to continue to change for the better. Their kids were Gen Xers and Millennials, and on and on we go…
 
Labeling generational cohorts can be helpful for recognizing and understanding social trends for predicting and forecasting future changes. It’s helpful in business and politics and other similar worldly institutions. But, as we know, Jesus was not of this world. He came to bring the Kingdom of Heaven to Earth. Jesus didn’t need a professional forecaster to tell him what was coming. Looking out over the crowds, he saw the future and didn’t much like what he saw. 
 
In this week’s passage from the Gospel of Luke, Jesus is anything but mellow.
 
In Luke’s version of the Gospel, Jesus uses strong words to get the attention of the crowd. He speaks of a baptism, which we have come to understand as our initiation into Christianity. Baptism confers a change of belief, behavior, and belonging to a loving community of the faithful. He speaks of fire, expressing his frustration at our refusal to change and our inability to read the signs God puts right in front of us. He speaks of division that arises when awareness of God is absent from our hearts and minds. Jesus, with attitude, says, “Stop talking about the weather when the world is crumbling around you! Wake up! Pay attention to the trends. You’re heading into some potentially treacherous territory. Turn back now before it’s too late!” 
 
If we study history, we detect some predictable trends. Christian history is replete with trends and countertrends. The Protestant Reformation in the 16^th century, for example, was a response to abuses in the church. The invention of the printing press helped to quickly spread these new ideas. All too often in our history, there has been violence and bloodshed. Theoretically, we should learn from our mistakes when we look back.
 
Sometimes, when we’ve simply had enough, it can be helpful to get a little angry. Sometimes a little anger can affect change. Within reason, that is. Anger is fiery energy that can break down walls and diffuse a sense of powerlessness. It can provide a certain necessary shock value.
 
But spiritually mature Christians (like us) will always be discerning. We consider more than our emotions when making critical decisions. You may have heard of the three-legged stool. The website of the Episcopal Church defines the three-legged stool this way:

  The threefold sources of authority in Anglicanism are scripture, tradition, and reason. These three sources uphold and critique each other in a dynamic way. Scripture is the normative source for God's revelation and the source for all Christian teaching and reflection. Tradition passes down from generation to generation the church's ongoing experience of God's presence and activity. Reason is understood to include the human capacity to discern the truth in both rational and intuitive ways. It is not limited to logic as such. It takes into account and includes experience. Each of the three sources of authority must be perceived and interpreted in light of the other two. 

There is wisdom in using this three-legged stool for discernment about God’s movement in our lives and our world, especially when emotions run very close to the surface. Always, love of God and neighbor remain our core values.
 
Throughout our scriptures, we read about God using shock value to get our attention. But there’s also “shocking goodness” in our tradition. Think about the “great cloud of witnesses”- exemplary folks like Saint Francis, Mother Teresa, Pauli Murray, and others. They stepped out and stepped up for God, doing their part to usher in a more God-centered, spirit-full world, each in their own unique ways. And they often used unconventional means to get the job done.

 

Think Olivia Newton-John as Sandy in the final scene of Grease, stepping out of her demure persona to shake things up. She sure captured Danny Zuko’s attention. Underneath all that makeup and leather, we all knew Sandy was still Sandy. 
 
The world may seem chaotic and divided, but God is still God – a trinity of diverse expressions of goodness always working continuously, covertly, and creatively to redeem humanity and our broken, divisive world.
 
How is God working to get your attention? What in your life needs transformation? Where could the church be fired up to initiate positive change? In an essay this week, writer Diana Butler Bass suggests that the antidote to our precariously divisive times is “risky goodness,” According to Bass, it is time for Christians to “stand up, speak up, and do good right now.” 
 
What fires you up? For @tanksgoodnews, it was the incessant negativity of the 24-hour news cycle. He created a forum on Instagram with nothing but good news. In Nashville, Episcopal priest Becca Stevens was fed up with the human trafficking of women. She created a way to get them off the streets and into safe housing with @thistlefarms,  Several innovative women in New Haven, Connecticut, were called to address the issues of isolation, unemployment, and Islamophobia experienced by Muslim refugees in our country, so they devised a brilliant solution. Sanctuary Kitchen creates community and employs American Muslims from all over the world who share food and friendship with the greater community. It’s a small thing, but I am committed to picking up as much litter as I can carry off a trail on my regular hikes. My friend organized a food drive, gathering excess fruits and veggies from local gardens and delivering them to the local food pantry.
 
Our world has changed a lot since the nifty fifties. We’re more connected than ever. In many ways, we’re also more divided. We must learn how to share our resources and care for one another, despite our perceived divisions. We say the words every week, “Thy kingdom come,” It’s time, beloveds. It is time.
 

Prayer for this time

Loving Creator of sun, moon, stars, earth, sky, and sea, who can seem far away and near as our breath. Stir up within us such passion for you that we are bold to answer your call to serve in the name of love, justice, and peace. Grant us grace as to discern your will and to walk humbly, confidently, and faithfully through any doors that you open. This we ask that your goodness and peace may flood our world with the light of your love and that we may come to know you ever more intimately. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.