Sacred Ground

Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.’ Exodus 3:5b NRSV (Read in context.)

My mother taught me that God is everywhere.  Most Christians would agree with her; the One we call God can meet us anywhere. Indeed the sacred surrounds us, enveloping us. Each human being even reflects the divine (Imago Dei), according to most followers of Jesus.

We often co-create sacred spaces with the divine, the one I call God. In churches and other places we invoke the spirit with candles, prayers, or incense. (I often burn incense and light a candle to remind me of God's presence. They help me to remember that my gifts are from God.) Some indigenous people burn cedar or sage. Most faith traditions of which I am aware have ways to draw our distracted human minds to focus on the One, on the sacred. These rituals are not limited by location.

But there do seem to be places in which God's presence is palpable. As I've been hiking the Columbia River Gorge this year, I have happened upon places that draw me in, call me to prayer and meditation. Some of these places are simply pretty spots where the artistry of the Creator's brush compel me to awe.

"Some of these places are simply pretty spots where the artistry of the Creator's brush compel me to awe." Photo by Tim Graves

Others have been co-created by human beings. Another person has felt compelled, for reasons I am unaware, to modify the location. The zen rocks along the Coyote Wall trail, for example, demand a sabbath along the journey to the peak.

The Coyote Wall Zen rocks are flanked by Mt. Hood. Photo by Tim Graves

Sometimes the sacred ground I encounter is long, narrow, and winds through Mother Earth's majesty. The experience of putting one foot in front of the other -- of the journey -- is itself holy. Being present on that trail as it wanders through the forest, meadow, or along the river, the One walks with me.  The God who loves extravagantly heals me, prods and challenges me, and reminds me that the majestic unfolding realm of God includes each of us.

Photo by Tim Graves

Note: As I begin the long-term project of creating a spiritual guide to various trails within the Columbia River Gorge, I will be highlighting Sacred Ground that I encounter on my hikes.

Wings

You have seen . . . how I bore you on eagles’ wings
 and brought you to myself. 

Exodus 19:4 NRSV (Read in context.)

An eagle as seen from Coyote Wall in across the 

river from Mosier, Oregon. Photo by Tim Graves.

Their broad, protective wings surround me in the the sky above the tiny Oregon town in which I live. I've seen them - as many as seven in number - surveying the town when I return home in the early evening. In the early morning I've seen them circle in a spiral to the surface of the river to catch a fish. When the winds for which the Columbia River Gorge is famous, bring out human windsurfers and kiteboarders, these magnificent birds can be seen rising thousands of feet above colorful kites and sails to catch the wind currents. Watching, they seem to float in mid-air in even the most powerful gale. 


When I walk along the Columbia, I eye the shore where they sometimes perch just beyond human reach. When I journey to hike the Coyote Wall and Labyrinth trails across the river in Washington state, they follow me reassuring me that I am not alone nor far from home. 


And, today, a feather lay across my path reminding me that the One is blessing my journey.

Dance Here

I left the coffee shop where the local Occupy Chaplains were meeting to catch my bus home. At the bus stop, "Dance Here" was stenciled on the sidewalk. I smiled, reminded of Emma Goldman's words, "If I can't dance, I don't want to be a part of your revolution."


I have been concerned about economic injustice for a very long time. I was recently reminded of my first sermon when I found a Youth Sunday bulletin from the 1970s. At 16, I stood up before a congregation of white suburban, middle-class Christians and pointed out global economic disparity. Americans, many of us Christians, I told them, were living well on the backs of impoverished people around the world.


It hasn't changed. It has worsened.


His thin, frail body hung in her arms. Thin herself, she stood before me seeking child care for her son. I looked into the baby's eyes, smiled, and spoke to him. Behind the cloudy, hollow eyes I could see the Divine still sparkling in him. He smiled back at me and made sounds typical of a much younger infant.


Within this country, the disparity between the haves and have-nots has grown in the last four decades. I directed a not-for-profit which primarily served the poor and "working poor" during the 1980s as the disparity was accelerating under new governmental policies. I heard the stories firsthand. I looked into the faces of those who struggled. As a follower of Jesus, sometimes my response was to bend the rules I could bend, to level the playing field as much as possible.


The woman holding the baby asked, "Do you have any openings?" Though there was no room at the inn I  administered, the faces of the Daughters of Charity flashed through my mind. (They founded the program as an orphanage in 1849 for poor children). I walked this mother through the enrollment papers. The baby started the next morning. 


My wife doesn't always speak positively about the years I spent directing that program. The constant struggles of an underfunded program serving society's nearly forgotten, meant that I was often too tired to dance. It meant that my own paycheck went uncashed for days or weeks until the program could afford to pay me. It meant that I was often shorter with my own children than I would otherwise have been. 


Dance here.


The secret of surviving those years was to take breaks in the baby room, to read stories to the preschoolers, and to dance with the two-year-olds. I danced and laughed when I should've recommended that we close our doors. In a time of revolution, in serving families that society called lazy, incompetent, and undeserving, we found time for dancing in the midst of our tears.


The work of revolution, of heeding the Divine's call to care for all of God's people, can often feel oppressive when you're enmeshed in the struggle. Don't forget to  take dance breaks.

Then the prophet Miriam, Aaron’s sister, took a tambourine in her hand; and all the women went out after her with tambourines and with dancing.

  Exodus 15: 20 NRSV Read this passage in context.

Decisions, Prayer, & Morning Showers

I am faced with a decision. 


At its core, this decision is about following God's call on my life or not following God's call.  The framing of this in either/or terms should not imply that I fail to see the good in each path. Nor should my framing it this way, imply that the Divine will not continue to lure me and continue to offer ways that I can heed my call regardless of my choice. We continually co-create with God. My response will influence God's next move. Together we will create the form of my journey. God does not know what I will choose. That is the nature of free will.


Enough of that theological mumbo jumbo...


One of the paths offers many things valued by our culture: financial security, routine. This path is limiting on my time and may restrict my ability to follow the Spirit as I move toward this new thing God is using me to create. The other offers the flexibility to be open, it offers the opportunity for me to trust that God will provide what I need when I need it. In other words, there is no fiscal security and no routine. There is only trust in God.


So, you can see the challenge for me. So, I did what any clergyperson should do, I asked for prayers on Facebook. I also spoke to my wife and my son seeking their insight. And I prayed myself. Truth be told a few hours after I asked for prayers on Facebook, I was getting a pretty strong message about the better choice. Still, I wasn't convinced. Sometimes I want a dramatic sign. Frankly, I don't know why God doesn't just send me an email.


A Revelatory Baptism in the Shower


As I was showering this morning, my mind wandered to scripture, or perhaps it was gently nudged to scripture by the Spirit. The scripture that came to mind was Exodus 16, the story in which the Israelites whine to Aaron and Moses that they are hungry. They whine that they should've never left Egypt and blame their leaders. Moses reminds them that they are really whining to God. God responds by providing them with manna. The manna comes with specific instructions: "each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day" (Exodus 16:4b NRSV). Those who gathered more than a day's worth found their leftover manna rotting and infested with worms.


In response to my revelation in the shower, I read my Bible, burned incense, listened to music, meditated, and prayed. 


The message is clear. The path on which I am called is the riskier one. It is the one deemed foolish by American cultural standards. The path that beckons me is the one that provides enough for today but leaves me dependent again tomorrow. The path I choose to take is the one that scares me the most and is hardest to take. Yet, I know God will provide manna. Jesus will walk with me. The Spirit will dance up ahead pointing out the things I should see.


Creator God of Risk Taking,


Why do I resist you? Why do I give my culture more power than you? Why is it so hard for me to trust you? For today, help me to hear, heed, and celebrate the journey you desire for me.


Amen

Fears & Anxiety

The Bible is so rich. I love the Israelites revisionist memory of what they wanted from Moses. When they get scared in the desert, seeing Pharoah's army approaching upon them, they cry out to the Lord. “They said to Moses, ‘Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, ‘Let us alone and let us serve the Egyptians’? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.’” Exodus 14: 11-12 NRSV

I’m this way today because I can’t see all the details of our impending move to Oregon in place right now. I’m heading down Anxiety Lane toward the freeway to Fear City. The rich stories in the Bible remind me that our forekindred also struggled with anxiety and fears. Just as for them, God will provide direction when it is needed. I need only continue on the path God has already laid before me.

God,

Help me to quell my anxieties and fears.
Touch me with your spirit,
that I might trust you.
For you are a trustworthy God,
who has never failed me.
Open my heart and ears that I might,
perceive your lure today and tomorrow,
trusting that the path you have set me on is the path for me.

Amen