day 9 - the moveable well.

Next Sunday, I will be preaching on two stories of thirst. The first comes from the exodus narrative as told in Exodus and Numbers, when the people wandered through the dessert, and began to complain of thirst. Miraculously, God provides, spilling fresh clear water from a broken rock:

"From the wilderness of Sin the whole congregation of the Israelites journeyed by stages, as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. The people quarreled with Moses, and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?" But the people thirsted there for water; and the people complained against Moses and said, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” So Moses cried out to the Lord “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” The Lord said to Moses, “Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go.I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. He called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarreled and tested the Lord, saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?” -Exodus 7:1-7

In my art class, we've been talking about how this story is represented in Jewish and early Christian art. The story became such a deep part of the culture when people had no Temple to go to, that it was no longer thought of as a one-time miracle event. Instead, it was a living legend known as the "moveable well." People spoke not of just one rock, but a deep well that followed the people all the way from Sinai to the promised land and never ran dry. This legend became particularly important after the temple fell and the dream of the promised land was fading. It seemed a promise that no matter where they traveled, God would feel their thirst and fill them up with what they needed. They imagined that the springing up of the well occurred every time Moses gathered the people for worship and set up the tabernacle.

So, on the walls in Synagogues the movable well is painted, reminding people that although the Temple has fallen and they are displaced, God's presence is welling up in their worship. That as they read scripture and participate in the liturgy, God is still quenching their thirst. Through worship, they are bathing in the deep spring of life that never runs dry.

I love to think of worship as our moveable well. Each time we gather together, lifting our voices in song and prayer, retelling the story of God, and sharing in the mystery of sacrament, we are breaking open the stone of our lives, letting the river of God rush in once again.

day 8 - the sun.

Is thankful for a day of sunshine, laughter with my youth over coffee, voicing doubts, fears and sadness to my always understanding and compassionate husband, dark chocolate, red wine and Mary Oliver. Sunny days always remind me of my blessings - both big and small.


the sun. By Mary Oliver:

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone--
and how it slides again

out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower

streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance--
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love--
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure

that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed--
or have you too
turned from this world--

or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?

day 7 - wonder.

Hagia Sophia is a breath taking worship space originally built under the rule of Justinian in 6th century Constantinople. It is magnificent -- in scale, in craftsmanship, in materials. Even looking at photos you can feel a bit of the sense wonder one would feel standing in this expansive space. The marble floors are wavy like a sea, allowing anyone who enters the chance to be a participant in the Biblical narrative. You are with Peter as he takes those shaky steps across the water toward Christ. You are in the midst of those mysterious moments of creation when the spirit hovers over the waters. Looking up, as the massive dome arches toward heaven, you feel closer to the infinite. Nothing in symmetrical, everything in disorienting, drawing the viewer past a world of understanding, into a mystical experience. As we study these pictures in art, I am reminded of the power of beauty to draw us into the heart of God.

day 6 - sound deep.

In my dance meditation class we join in a practice called "sound deep to the witness of God." In this prayer you choose a partner and sit facing each other. Then a scripture is read. One of the partners closes their eyes and reflects prayerfully on the passage, expressing their prayer through slow intentional embodied movements with each outward breath. These movements can be as small as lifting or raising your arms, folding your hands in prayer, or bowing your head. As the person moves, their partner sits across from them and gazes at them, holding them in prayer.

I cannot describe the deep intimacy and gentle mystical power that I feel doing this activity. When I was the partner doing the prayer movement, I felt so embraced and so cared for as I moved in the safety and comfort of my partner's prayerful gaze. And even more powerful for me was being the one who held the other in watchful prayer. It feels so sacred to be allowed to witness the prayer life of another person. Although I was sitting still, it was as if my soul was moving with hers. While her body moved, I was moved internally. I was so blessed as she bowed and as she reached for God, my heart was also bowing and reaching. It was as if we were praying the same prayer although we exchanged no words.

I want to do this activity again and again and to work to create more of these moments of deep connection with one another. Too often we talk in such general terms about God, and never stop and truly sound deep to the witness of God in each other.

day 5 - i am home.

My schedule the last few weeks has been crazy. Almost every day I am at work and school from 9am until 9 at night. In all the busyness of this semester, it sometimes feels impossible to rest in the presence of God. I am wondering how to find and make time for creativity, reflection or prayer, when to be honest, I come home at the end of the day, all I want to do it lay on the couch and watch tv.

I am still growing in this area, struggling to figure out how to make time for what my body and soul really needs.

One small way that has helped me find stillness in the midst of chaos these last few weeks is the practice of walking mediation. I do this on my to class, or even from the short walk to and from my car. It is a practice in which you count the number of steps you take as you inhale and exhale. As you walk, you become aware of your breathing and of your own presence as your feet find the ground. Then you can begin to pick words to meditate on with each step or breath.

Lately, my meditation is simple. "I have arrived. I am home." So, as I walk, I am aware that I am stepping into just the right moment, the right place on the earth. It brings me a sense of rest, and with each step I feel I am coming into the embrace of the divine.

day 4 - the shelter of each other.

Last night I had the opportunity to go see the Rock and Worship Roadshow at the ARCO arena in Sacramento with my youth. I admit that Christian music can sometimes be cheesy and repetitive, but it can also be so amazingly powerful. Great music speaks to souls in a way that spoken words just can't.

One of my favorite new songs of the night was a song called "Shelter" by Jars of Clay. It's incredibly simple, but I like the idea of having worship songs that express not only our communion with God, but also our communion with one another.

The lyrics go like this:

To all who are looking down
Holding onto hearts still wounded
For those who’ve yet to find it
The places near where love is moving
Cast off the robes you’re wearing
Set aside the names that you’ve been given
May this place of rest
In the fold of your journey
Bind you to hope
You will never walk alone

In the shelter of each other
We will live, we will live
Never walk alone
In the shelter of each other
We will live, we will live
Your arms are all around us

If our hearts are turned to stone
There is hope we know the rocks will cry out
And the tears aren’t ours alone
Let them fall into the hands that hold us
Come away from where you’re hiding
Set aside the lies that you’ve been living
May this place of rest
In the fold of your journey
Bind you to hope
We will never walk alone

In the shelter of each other
We will live, we will live
Never walk alone
In the shelter of each other
We will live, we will live
Your arms are all around us

Here's the video of Jars of Clay talking about it:

day 3 - where is god?

Yesterday, one of my Jr. High youth at our after school coffee house hours said that he thinks that God exists, but also that God more or less gave up on earth and humanity for the time being and left. He explained that he still believes that God watches over us, but that God hasn't really worked miracles or acted on earth in the last few thousand years. This led to a really powerful discussion about how God acts in the world, the truth of the Bible, and what makes something a miracle. While one of my youth felt certain that God doesn't work miracles, I left the conversation feeling certain that God is so deeply present in and around us, and that miracles are happening every day.

Here are a few of the ways that I see the Divine moving:

the willingness of young people to wrestle with deep theological questions.

the passion and creativity of the high school students I work with.

the love of my husband.

the enduring symbol of the mark of ashes.

the laughter and imagination of children.

music that awakens my soul.

the peace that comes from the practice of walking meditation.

my talented, loving, supportive, incredible friends.

the communion we share each Sunday through the eucharist.

the amazing young adults who volunteer their time week after week to help with youth ministry.

the way the light looks alive as it dances on the bay.

the work being done by city of refuge, glide, and other inner city ministries.

the power of a poem to transport and transform its reader.

That's just the short list of infinite ways I see God working. I know that during lent, as I continue to pray with others and share this journey that I will find countless miracles to add to this list.