Once a month now at the Sophia Center we have a noon gathering to ponder the lectionary psalm of the day. A few months ago it happened that a section of the longest psalm in the Bible (PS 119) showed up on our meeting day. As I thought about how to present this snippet of a greater whole, I found my answer in a section of commentary that said, “Experiences are often repeated again and again. As we go over the same territory learning in new ways, truth becomes grounded…” The six chosen verses for that day were in the same section but not tightly sequential. Our normal practice is to read what appears just once through, either by one person, antiphonally (alternately by two groups), or all together. I decided to experiment by having each participant read one verse that we then commented upon before going on to the next one. The result was quite profound. There were six of us present that day. Six different voices describing the same sentiment deepened the meaning and solidified it in our hearts. And then the next verse built upon that deepening.
Today we gather again and today we have a similar situation as verses 41,43,44,45,47,48 of Psalm 119 compose the text of our reflection. The sentiments in my favorite translation (Ancient Songs Sung Anew) offer us, I am certain, the potential for as meaningful experience as before if we take the time to listen deeply to each other. Won’t you join us by reading each line aloud several times and hearing it reverberate throughout your being? I guarantee that it will be a worthwhile endeavor.
41: For the sake of the covenant we keep between us, Lord, let your love descend and hold me fast. 43. Allow my mouth to utter words of truth, this Torah of the heart. 44. Which I shall trust and keep forever. 45. And then in freedom I will walk upon your path and know these precepts are yours alone. 47. I’ll bind them to my heart with deepest joy, 48. For I love and worship all you love, my Lord. I meditate upon this inner bread.
Today Christians throughout the world celebrate one of the major feasts of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Known as “The Assumption” it is one of those tenets of Christianity which is not proven by Scripture but is rather “taken on faith.” That Mary was “taken into heaven, body and soul” seemed a logical conclusion to the life of the one that the Council of Ephesus in the year 431 had called Theotokos (God-bearer), the mother of Christ who was believed to have been “conceived without sin.”
In 1950, Pope Pius XII declared a feast celebrating Mary, the Mother of Jesus, as a dogma of the Catholic faith. There are many feasts of Mary and this one was not a new thought; it’s reality had been celebrated by Christians with rituals from as early as the sixth century. The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary into heaven is, ironically, something “assumed” since there is no concrete evidence of the fact that Mary, like Jesus, was taken body and soul into heaven at the time of her death, because of her esteemed role in the birth and life of Jesus in this earthly realm. It is one of those instances that the Church follows the sensus fidelium, a time when “from the bishops to the last of the faithful, they manifest a universal consent in matters of faith and morals.” The Pope was, in a sense, just certifying what people had believed and practiced for centuries.
Yesterday I was speaking with someone who had participated in last weekend’s workshop at The Sophia Center for Spirituality about how simple, and yet how effective, the activities were. We concluded that it was a combination of the engaging manner of Jan Phillips, the presenter, that engendered trust by her honest sharing and the resultant willingness of the group members to act in like manner that carried the day. The focus of the sharing, a consistent energetic current that undergirded such success, was the life experiences of the participants and how those experiences had been transformative in some way. The genius of the process was that the transformation came from the simple exercise of speaking our truths aloud. Happy or sad, difficult or easy, long past or recent, we recounted our life events as we saw them and recognized ourselves in the eyes and hearts of the willing hearers in our midst. We found our creativity in the extraordinary poems that we wrote in 10 minutes, prompted by a series of necessarily included words like a color, a location, a body of water, a person…We moved our bodies in a simple circle dance and found it easier to do in the singing and connecting of hands and smiling eyes. In short, we realized our common humanity and celebrated our desire to reach out from that place to a world in need of our blessing and gifts.
Over the past 48 hours I have had the opportunity to spend time with two women whose fathers died this past summer. Last night my own father appeared in a dream which I only remember for his passing presence and the appearance of his wedding ring – not on his hand but clearly his – a strong symbol in his life and the lives of our family.
Reading today’s assigned Scripture texts for liturgy made me wish everyone – from the famous to the infamous – would pay attention to the messages. First we have Paul pleading with the Philippians to be united and then in what we actually call the psalm response the psalmist takes a humble tone that might actually turn things around if all were to act out of it. I imagine it as a conversation between God and us today. See if that makes sense and what might be the result if everyone took it to heart.
Not awakened by any word of Scripture this morning, I will pass on only a brief sentence said once (or probably many times) by Emily Dickinson – a perfect beginning to another round of work or study or dreaming new dreams:
