Tag Archives: Presence

Thin Places

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A Sermon for 26 August 2018

A reading of Psalm 84.  Listen for God’s word to us in this beautiful Psalm believed to be inspired by pilgrims’ annual journeys to Jerusalem for Temple festivals.  Listen.

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts!  2 My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God.  3 Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.  4 Happy are those who live in your house, ever singing your praise.  5 Happy are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.   6 As they go through the valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.  7 They go from strength to strength; the God of gods will be seen in Zion.  8 O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob!  9 Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed.  10 For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.  I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness.  11 For the Lord God is a sun and shield; God bestows favor and honor.  No good thing does the Lord withhold from those who walk uprightly.  12 O Lord of hosts, happy is everyone who trusts in you.”

This is the word of God for the people of God.  Thanks be to God!

I’ve been told that Ireland is beautiful!  Some of you likely have been there.  I never have.  . . .  Rolling hills along rugged coasts.  Green everywhere you look.  Wild weather often blows in off the Atlantic.  And ancient stones sit all over the land.  For those unwilling to appreciate the beauty of nature, it might just seem like a country filled with piles of old rocks.  Others find the land palpable with Presence.  Hallowed spaces where it feels as if heaven and earth meet.  The Ancient Celts called such spots thin places.  In fact, a Celtic saying proclaims that “heaven and earth are only three feet apart, but in thin places that distance is even shorter” (quoted on https://www.irishamericanmom.com/irelands-thin-places/).  From stone circles in places like County Cork to the massive Grianan Stone Ring Fort in County Donegal, thin places teach us that some locations on earth are closer to the spiritual.  Thin places are where God’s Presence is more accessible.

Listen to one passionate Irish American describe her experience of Ireland’s thin places:  “These places bring feelings and emotions, realizations and awareness to the fore.  It is as if the line between all that is sacred and human meet for just a moment.  There is something otherworldly in the atmosphere, transcendent, even divine.  Other dimensions seem closer than usual.  There is a tangible stillness to the silence” (Ibid.).  She continues:  “In a thin place something beyond words causes our spines to tingle, as if awakening our souls.  Even our thoughts seem to be swept away in the moment, and something deep within our beings touches a luminous seat of knowledge.  . . . Returning from a thin place is marked by a feeling of refreshment and renewal.  Our awareness of the world around us becomes heightened” (Ibid.).  She also writes about the lasting effects of being in a thin place.  “In days, weeks, and years to come;” she writes, “memories of sacred landscapes help us see glimpses of nature and the Divine in the chaotic world around our urban existences.  The prayerfulness of these little corners of earth urge us to return to them in our imagination when we cannot physically visit them again.  When overwhelmed by the monotony of daily life, the tedious details of work and living” she writes; “we can listen to our hearts and hear the silent music of thin places.  Our souls guide us back to the peaceful presence of those ancient stones and help us draw strength from the peace and serenity of our thin place experiences” (Ibid.).

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts,” the Psalmist writes (Ps. 84:1).  “My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the LORD!” (Ps. 84:2a).  Psalm 84 might be one of the most beautiful scriptural descriptions of a pilgrim’s experience of a thin place.  It’s unlikely that most of us consider the Temple in Jerusalem as a thin place.  But what else do we think the people of God had been describing?  Since the days of Moses and the wandering Israelites dwelling with the tabernacle of God among them, Scripture is filled with stories of the people of God experiencing the palpable Presence of Heaven coming ever so close to earth.  Of course, the Presence was on the move in the Ark of the Covenant until King Solomon finally had the go ahead to have massive stones moved together on Mount Zion.  The Temple was raised on the mount in Jerusalem for the Sacred to fill the atmosphere.  To bring the other dimension of the Divine closer to human beings.  To cause our spines to tingle.  To awaken our souls and be swept up beyond all rational thought for something deep within ourselves to be touched by the Luminous.  That we might know, truly know, that the One who is beyond us also is among us.  The thin place of the Temple had that kind of effect – not only because the of grandeur of the structure.  But also because it was there worshippers had experienced the wonder-filled meeting of heaven and earth.

A few years ago, when I arrived in the Holy Land with a group of fellow pilgrims; we were told to suspend suspicion over sites we would see being factually in the actual spot where the events might have taken place.  I think I’ve told you this before.  We were reminded that everywhere we were going in that land was where Jesus of Nazareth had walked.  For people of faith, it all was hallowed ground.  And it was hallowed not just by his previous physical presence.  Part of what makes the Holy Land holy is the power of the prayers pilgrims have brought to each spot for thousands of years – from our earliest Israelite ancestors in the faith right up to the worldwide Christian visitors of today.  The land pulses with a Presence – an energy – a Living Presence that feels like an intersection, a thinner veil between heaven and earth.  The Holy Land is full of such spots – though the hustle and bustle of busloads of other pilgrims can make it difficult to notice.  Tough to be quiet in order to hear the silent music of God.  Our hearts and our flesh able to join the Psalmist in singing for joy to the living God (Ps. 84:2b).  It’s just easier to experience God there – for emotions and realizations and awareness to bubble up to the surface so that we want to remain right there forever.

The destruction the of Temple a few decades after Jesus’ death and resurrection might have brought an end to the glory of that building.  But it did not bring an end to the mystical quality of that space.  The stones of the remaining Western Wall – also known as the Wailing Wall – still hold the power of the Divine Presence.  Millions flock there annually to make their wishes as they touch the ancient rock and shove their little prayer papers into whatever crevice they can find in the wall.  Scores of observant Jews (watched by curious spiritual seekers) gather late each Friday afternoon.  Men on one side, women on the other.  They begin the beautiful ritual of preparing for the Sabbath with prayers and songs and joyous dances.  I remember being there, watching one Friday.  And seeing that even the birds were gathered.  Right over the heads of worshippers sparrows and holy pigeons joined with their happy sounds.

I realize this spot (this sanctuary) isn’t anywhere as ancient as the holy spots of Jerusalem or the stone circles of Ireland, but I wonder if any of us notice the palpable Presence here?  So that we long to be here – in this sanctuary – ever singing God’s praise?  When we gather here together, we are saturated by the prayers of the generations.  Their hopes and fears and celebrations.  We are surrounded by the power of ancient ritual.  The sprinkling of water as a sign and seal.  The breaking of bread.  The cup poured out in reminder that our own life-force is to be as freely given for life in the world today.  Hearts attuned.  Voices lifted up.  Hands folded or outstretched.  For years.  The Presence awakening our souls in this thin place that we might go forth refreshed.  Renewed.  Dare I say:  for us to remember that the lovely place in which God dwells is here and is within every last one of us too.  Who long to be together in the Presence of the Living God – like batteries recharged – so that we spread out into homes and neighborhoods and places of daily work to be like walking thin places.  People in whom heaven and earth – Spirit and flesh – intersect.  Creating an atmosphere – not on our own accord but because we’ve gotten ourselves out of the way enough for the Spirit of God, the Light of Christ to shine right through us.  That palpable Presence going forth from us to renew the hearts of those who cross our paths.  Refreshing toilsome souls that long for a taste of the Light.  . . .  Thin places – walking all over the earth for God’s Presence to be a little more accessible to all.

May our lives proclaim how lovely is God’s dwelling place!  May our hearts sing for joy for the palpable Presence of the Living God!

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2018  (All rights reserved.)

 

. . . A Time to Heal

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A Sermon for 19 June 2015 – 5th Sunday after Pentecost

A reading from the gospel of Luke 8:26-39. Listen for God’s word to us.

“Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes, which is opposite Galilee. As he stepped out on land, a man of the city who had demons met him. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he fell down before him and shouted at the top of his voice, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me” — for Jesus had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many times it had seized him; he was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the wilds.) Jesus then asked him, “What is your name?” He said, “Legion”; for many demons had entered him. They begged him not to order them to go back into the abyss. Now there on the hillside a large herd of swine was feeding; and the demons begged Jesus to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned. When the swineherds saw what had happened, they ran off and told it in the city and in the country. Then people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. Those who had seen it told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed. Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned. The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might be with him; but Jesus sent him away, saying, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” So he went away, proclaiming throughout the city how much Jesus had done for him.”

This is the word of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God!

 

Amid all the disturbing news this week – not only the deaths that have occurred in this congregation, but also the tragic events in our nation and world; did you catch the clip about Phoebe? Phoebe is a dog from Fort Worth, Texas. In the past 18 months, Phoebe has logged 236 visitation hours at eight different hospitals in the Fort Worth area. Though it looks simple, her owner attests Phoebe received extensive training for a year and a half before being set loose in local hospitals. Phoebe is a golden retriever, known to be an extra sensitive dog bread. But she’s not entirely unique. It’s long been understood that dogs have incredible healing powers. Let one curl up near you for a little bit. As it settles in, possibly nudging your hand with its wet nose to ensure you will stroke its beautiful coat or pat its head right above those milky chocolate eyes, it’s likely your heart rate immediately will drop. Before you know it, any swirling anxieties within will calm. With such a beautiful creature relaxing at your side, most every human being will find their own cares melting away.

It’s the idea behind Phoebe and a dozen or so other dogs like her who are known across the country as the Comfort Dogs. A news clip shows Phoebe walking the halls of a hospital. Whether she chooses a patient to visit based on her intuitive senses, or if the nurses direct Phoebe and her owner to a particular room; before you know it the patient in the bed is smiling, laughing, and enjoying the consoling warmth of Phoebe who is surrounding the patient with her curative powers. Patient after patient attests: “You just forget about what’s wrong. It’s like your whole attention turns to them.” . . . Phoebe and others like her are trained by Lutheran Church Charities. The news clip went on to report that Phoebe and her owner were boarding a plane early the next morning to spend the week as a comfort in hospitals and counseling centers in Orlando, Florida. They’re heading to the very places that have been flooded with broken-bodied and broken-hearted people since last Sunday’s horrific mass shooting. The clip reported that Phoebe and the other Comfort Dogs have been present everywhere from Sandy Hook, to Boston after the marathon bombing, and now to Orlando. What they do is simple really, though so incredibly profound. In the midst of such intense, inexplicable pain; they show up. They calmly greet a grieving survivor. They sit as a loving presence at the person’s side for whatever pats and hugs the dogs may receive. What they offer is a calming, comforting presence in times where words will never be enough. Somehow they allow people who haven’t been able to breathe since the crisis, finally to exhale. It is as if the night terrors evaporate. The bottled-up emotions can flow. The pain – at least momentarily – disappears. Where humans have done the worst to one another, Comfort Dogs provide an oasis in the midst of heart wrenching despair. (www.wfaa.com/mb.life/phoebe-the-comfort-dog-helping-orlando-victims-243718287 and WFAA-TV, Tuesday 14 June 2016). Comfort Dogs come alongside us to help us heal.

Though I love dogs and can see how they would offer uniquely restorative powers, I find it kinda of disheartening that its dogs that end up in such places of mass destruction instead of us people. In the gospel of Luke especially, we learn of a Lord who went wherever he was needed to heal. In the story before us for today; it’s out of his homeland, Galilee. Beyond the set boundaries of his people. Off to the neighboring country of the Gerasenes he goes. There a man, hardly man-like anymore, has been left to live in the tombs. He’s out of his mind from all that has possessed him. Demons, the text reads. And we might understand such malevolent forces that can overtake us yet today. Commentators often translate ancient ideas of demonic powers as the kinds of maladies that leave us chronically ill today. Maybe the man has something akin to paranoid schizophrenia. Or could it be more like the turbulent inner turmoil in which many of us end up from living a lifetime wracked by incessant worry? Or self-hatred. Or debilitating fear. Maybe the demons that drive us today to live less human-like and more as shade-like dwellers in the land of the dead are arrogance or ignorance or greed. Whatever it is that takes us over so that we, in the language of the PCUSA’s “A Brief Statement of Faith,” “violate the image of God in others and ourselves, accept lies as truth, exploit neighbor and nature, and threaten death to the planet entrusted to our care” (PCUSA Book of Confessions, 2014, p. 303, line 35-38). . . . To one who has experienced this, our Lord goes.

It’s a great comfort to know that Jesus shows up in our greatest hour of need. But it’s even more important for us to realize that he went about such ministry so that we now will. It’s all over the gospels and the rest of the New Testament too. One of Jesus’ primary ministries was that of healing. And he passed that ministry right along to his first disciples. Luke chapter nine reads: “Then Jesus called the twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal . . . They departed,” verse six continues, “and went through the villages, bringing the good news and curing diseases everywhere” (Luke 9:1-2, 6). When they return a short time later, they fall all over each other telling Jesus about all they had done. Later in the New Testament, after Christ’s resurrection, we can read about the people they healed. Everywhere they went, they found a way to restore the bodies, minds, and spirits of those in need. To cure the dis-eases people experienced in the living of their days. That’s healing – making something whole once again. It’s a ministry entrusted to us too. As we look around the world today, we might just see it’s the primary ministry God is calling us to now – in the families and neighborhoods and nation in which we live. Even to those beyond our comfort zones – those outside the boundaries we tend to set.

I know, our rational minds might right away kick in, if not to question how Jesus and his friends so long ago actually healed all sorts of people, then perhaps to wonder how in the world we’re supposed to do the same kind of healing today. I wouldn’t dare advocate something other than the miracles we can experience due to modern medicine. Like, I’m not about to go home and stop taking the pills my doctor has prescribed me to take as I continue to heal after shoulder repair surgery. I’m still going to do the necessary exercises and follow the surgeon’s advice. And I suggest you all listen to your doctors as well. . . . But I just can’t get Phoebe out of my mind. The hugs she received in Orlando this week. The people whose physical, emotional, and spiritual pain was eased as the Comfort Dogs descended upon their hospital rooms and showed up at the trauma counseling center. Remember their simple, but o so profound gift? Presence. Calm. The comfort of just sitting with another when no words ever will be enough. We can do that. Every last one of us can get out of ourselves long enough to just be with another who feels like the whole world is falling apart. We can listen to the silence or the sobs that might arise. We can wait as an oasis until one who hasn’t been able to breathe since the crisis, finally finds themself able to exhale. We can help to heal, can’t we? Offering a powerful, curative peace wherever it is needed. After all, if Phoebe and her furry friends can do it, certainly we can too. Following the lead of our Lord as he goes outside his typical territory to heal the one who meets him there. . . . As Christ’s hands and feet in the world today – a world we know to be in such deep, deep need – it’s our turn to take up our Lord’s ministry of healing. May God’s Spirit guide us as we go to the side of whoever needs it!

In the name of the life-giving Father, the life-redeeming Son, and the life-sustaining Spirit, Amen.

© Copyright JMN – 2016  (All rights reserved.)