Yesterday we were blessed with two new people at our monthly session of “Lunch with the Psalms.” In the half-decade we have been meeting, there has rarely been any food eaten during our time together. At its inception I envisioned a short noontime meeting when workers in our downtown area could, in fact, bring their lunch and eat while we reflected on the lectionary psalm of the day. As it happens, most people find it difficult to eat and talk at the same time! Our “food” is the nourishment we get from the sharing – at first from the reading of the psalm and then from our exploration of its richness.
There are many English translations of the Psalms in the Bible and we often refer to different ones to enhance our appreciation of a verse. This morning I read the first verse of Psalm 62 from the New American (Roman Catholic) translation and found myself immediately hearing a peaceful melody from John Michael Talbot in my head. “Only in God is my soul at rest; from God is my hope, my salvation…God alone is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold: I shall not be disturbed at all…” In another version which he calls “the Psalms as Poetry,” Lynn Bauman (Episcopal priest) entitles Psalm 62 “Waiting in Silence.” It begins as follows. “Alone my soul awaits you in the silence, Lord, by you and only you I am restored. You are for me my solid ground, foundation firm on which I stand. Can I be shaken or seized?”
Two expressions of the same sentiment: one may engage us more than the other. This is the beauty of language and a gift of those who study ancient texts and bring them to life for us, touching us in deeper places than our heads. It is the heart that reverberates with the sounds. Speak aloud the verses above. Even better, sing them to enter into the experience of the closeness and care of such a loving God. Reach deep into the words to find what they express…
Blessings on your day!
Today I am privileged to spend the morning in reflection with seven people considering the topic of hope. Self-selected and always seeking to deepen their spiritual lives, these people are all known to me although not to one another. I never know exactly what will transpire at these brief encounters (just 3 hours of prayer, silence and sharing) but I am never disappointed. That is not to say that I do not have a carefully crafted agenda, but once I have prepared, I let go and see where the Spirit will take us. I smile when I think of that truth because it has not always been that way. Needing success eventually gives way to simply being present and trusting the willingness of the participants to hear something of merit and to offer their wisdom to the group.
The psalmist is “waxing eloquent” this morning. As Psalm 8 rings in my inner sight, I recall the beautiful blue sky and sunshine of yesterday afternoon as I drove and sang with the accompaniment of longtime liturgical musicians whose music always stirs me to praise. This weekend was well begun last evening (see yesterday’s post) with a sellout crowd for our communal “walk down memory lane.” I look forward to a full day of enthusiastic sharing in words toward a hopeful future and feelings of gratitude for what we have been given throughout our history from our roots in 17th century France to worldwide service in love of God and neighbor.
Yesterday I had two meetings back-to-back. The first was a small gathering, only four of seven who try to gather monthly for a “shot in the arm” of wisdom practices that keep us conscious in a way that nothing else seems able to do. We always miss but are very aware of our connection with our “absent brethren.” I went from there to a virtual committee meeting; just our voices were together through the miracle of a phone conference. Again we were four, together in the ethers in an effort to create a process that we hope will enable deeper sharing among members of a much larger group. I could see the faces in my mind as each of us spoke and allowed ideas to germinate in the sharing.
Last night I watched a special program – part of a series, I believe – celebrating Black History Month. It was Robin Roberts interviewing Valerie Jarrett, Senior Advisor to President Barack Obama for the full eight years of his presidency. It was more like a living room conversation with about 100 friends sitting around the perimeter asking the occasional question or adding an opinion. And Valerie Jarrett was so fine! It was a delight to experience two such vibrant women speaking clearly about the privilege of public service, the challenges of life in any situation and their desire to be a force for good for the next generations of Americans. What I found most helpful was the fact that they did not need to preach about those topics. Both were just strong women with no need for abrasiveness or negativity to make a point. They simply shared their experiences and ideas and the tenor of the conversation caused truth to shine through.
That place of “not-knowing” that I spoke of yesterday still holds me today as I think of the storm called Harvey that just won’t quit. How do people recover from that kind of devastation – both environmental and human? Even here, at almost the farthest northern point in our country away from those swirling waters and broken lives, I feel viscerally the distress and death. Physical death, the death of dreams, of possessions – all must reside inside any of us who have even seen the images on television and more likely if we know people living in Texas – and today in Louisiana. I have rarely felt the draw of depression on such a scale.
Today it’s Isaiah whose message rings loudly in my ears with the same focus: go deeper! Get to the heart of things. He’s talking about fasting and the dissatisfaction of the people with God’s response – or lack thereof – to their practice. They want their reward. But God is more concerned with the lack of depth in their spiritual lives because, even while they fast, they mistreat their laborers and fight among themselves. They just don’t get it. So once again they – and we – get a lesson on what it means to “fast from the heart.” It’s a truly moving and inspired passage. (Is 58:1-9a) Read it aloud, if you will, with gusto!
My mind is racing already after reading the lectionary texts today. I don’t know if I can settle on one topic emerging from the message of Isaiah. Perhaps it isn’t always necessary to be able to wrap my words up into a tight, cohesive package. I may just strive this morning for coherence and leave cohesion by the wayside. We’ll see how it goes.