Fifth Sunday of Easter, May 7, 2023
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
In that space between
Beloved, come to him and, like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house, a holy priesthood.
When we go on vacation we plan and then let go of our plans. We know what we want to do, but who knows what will rise from the future into our present, offering a gift? Should we reach out and take it? Our plans, our plans! The plane, the plane!
I will never get to Fantasy Island without plans. Or is it … the other way around?
Sometimes I say NO. But usually I say YES. I like to think so, anyway. Still, I have lots of plans for our now indefinite time in Illinois. We made a list of things to do with Jasper before summer gets here. On this cloudy Austin day, I have plans. And I am virtually certain of what will happen at church.
Which makes me wonder. Is that such a great plan, to have it all mapped out? Richard Rohr’s last week of devotions insists that there’s something better. “We will normally do anything to keep the old thing from falling apart, yet this is when we need patience and guidance, and the freedom to let go instead of tightening our control and certainty.”
Wow! Of course! This “letting go” is often involuntary, and in a way that’s the easier path. But always there is the moment in between the sounds, what Japanese composers and musicians call the “MA.” This needn’t just be musical. Why not embrace it in my way of life?
First of all, be less certain about the order of service on Sunday. Of course it’s harder to get this right in a group. But part of our practice of church could be an exercise in patience with other members of the body of Christ, as if we hardly knew what to expect. At church we could learn patience, and ingenuity, and how to use our intuition, and how to communicate love and acceptance. Now church for many is mostly about keeping up appearances, I think, and that’s not the only or the best way to spend a few hours together on Sunday.
As for the rest of my 168 hours each week, how about a simple change that will affect everything? It’s called statio. Here’s what artist and contemplative Christine Valters Paintner thinks:
In the monastic tradition, statio is the practice of stopping one thing before beginning another. It is the acknowledgment that in the space of transition and threshold is a pause full of possibility. This place between is a place of stillness, which calls us to a sense of reverence for slowness, for mindfulness, and for the fertile dark spaces between our goals where we can pause and center ourselves, and listen.
In the days ahead, become aware of all the times you cross a threshold. This might be moving from one space to another—entering through a doorway, transitioning from one activity to the next, or tending the thresholds of the day, especially at dawn and dusk. Pause at each and offer a short blessing, simply becoming aware of the possibilities alive in the moment. See if the threshold helps call forth the thinness of this moment, making the voice of the divine more accessible.Â
At the king’s coronation, thousands of people waited in the pouring rain for the royal family to join them on their balcony in the English weather. In Christine’s world, the waiting, this “being still,” could be the best part of it all.
At Churchill Downs, the jockeys waited all day, then donned their colors and waited again beside their horses. The horses, bred for action, snorted and kicked their feet, but they waited too. “Be still in this moment,” the jockey tells himself. Watch Mage, the winner, wait, and wait, and, wait, before he explodes ahead. (#8, blue jockey shirt and cap with white striped sleeves comes up on the outside)
At church today, I want to notice our goings in and comings out, and especially the in-betweens. This is a practice that I can learn, suspending my expectations and memories, to be here now.
You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own. Announce the praises of him who called you out darkness into his marvelous light.
 (Acts 6, Psalm 33, 1 Peter 2, John 14)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
#