Lent II 03/16/25
The Still Point
A Time of Meditation and Reflection
The Second Sunday in Lent
... At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance... T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton
Peace on each one who comes in need;
Peace on each one who comes in joy.
Peace on each one who offers prayers;
Peace on each one who offers song.
Peace of the Maker, Peace of the Son,
Peace of the Spirit, the Triune One.
Opening Prayer
God of our pilgrimage, we have found the living water. Refresh and sustain us as we go forth on our Lenten journey, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
Scripture Reading Luke 13:31-35
Some Pharisees came and said to Jesus, "Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you." He said to them, "Go and tell that fox for me, 'Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.' Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, 'Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.'"
Poem: “A Litany for Survival” by Audre Lorde
For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours;
For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.
And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed but when we are silent
we are still afraid
So it is better to speak
remembering we were never meant to survive.
Meditation
As we continue making our journey through the wilderness of Lent, we arrive with Jesus at a moment when the Pharisees are seeking to mislead him into succumbing to the temptation to be afraid of the wrath of earthly authority, to act out of a desire for self-preservation, to be silenced. They don't threaten him with violence themselves, but, somewhat disingenuously, they act as though they are trying to help him help himself - they warn him that violence is coming for him unless he shuts up and makes himself scarce. Of course, Jesus doesn't fall for their fear-mongering; instead, he acknowledges that violence may come, in fact, that it has come again and again to silence truth-tellers in the past. He compares himself to a hen gathering her brood into her feathers for protection - like the hen guarding her eggs against the devouring fox- stating in no uncertain terms that he will not be moved from speaking the truth. Further, he invites these Pharisees to be included among those who are gathered, but if they are not willing to come to him who is the way, the truth, and the life, if they are not willing to be gathered into the warm feathers of truth, love, and justice, then they will be reliant on their own devices when their own fox comes to devour them.
This week's Gospel brings to mind the courage of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King. The Pharisees' warning to Jesus conjures for me an image of Dr. King at home at night, jarred by the jangling of the ringing phone that heralded another death threat, startled by the flash of shadows outside his windows, in his garden...men planting crosses to burn? Would-be assassins? Whether it was "heavy-footed" shadowy figures in the night or authorities warning him he'd do well to quiet down and make himself scarce, Dr. King had his own Pharisees warning him about the fox coming for him. Thanks be to God for Dr. King's disobedience to these warning voices, which was his obedience to God. Thanks be to God for those hens that, like Dr. King, follow in the way of Jesus and gather God's children together to sing and shout out loud the holy names of God: truth, love, and justice. Thanks be to God for those disciples who seek not to save their lives but who are prepared to lose them for Jesus' sake, for those who know that silencing truth will not conquer fear or ensure safety, for those who know instead to move through that valley of fear; as Audre Lorde writes, "when we are silent, we are still afraid. So it is better to speak, remembering we were never meant to survive." Thanks be to God for those who speak truth to power, know that the truth will make us free, and follow the way of the Way, the Truth, and the Life.
Questions for Reflection
- Consider a recent time when you feared losing life as you know it. What jangling bell set off that fear for you? Was it a news story? An email you received? A growing realization? What were you afraid of losing? Name the object of this loss before God. What does it feel like to place it into the warm feathers of God's care?
- Who are the foxes, prowling around the eggs of your life? Name these foxes. Are they authorities? Individual people? Circumstances? Existential threats? Imagine them devouring those things that are precious to you. What does it feel like to experience that violence and loss? Practicing this experience of loss can be a way of practicing letting go of attachment to the things we're afraid of losing. What feels different about having an egg wrenched away by a fox versus setting it down and letting go of it yourself?
- What does it feel like to be gathered under the Mother Christ's warm feathers? What egg can be devoured by a fox in a universe oriented by the Resurrection? If death and loss are the consequences of speaking truth, but "we were never meant to survive", what does it mean that "those who wish to save their lives will lose them, but those who lose their lives" for the sake of the Way and the Truth and the Life "will gain eternal life", when that moment of choosing whether to speak the truth or to be silent comes, as it must, for each of us?
Prayers
We bring before God someone whom we have met or remembered today
We bring to God someone who is hurting tonight and needs our prayer
We bring to God a troubled situation in our world
We bring to God, silently, someone whom we find hard to forgive or trust
We bring ourselves to God that we might grow in generosity of spirit, clarity of mind, and warmth of affection
We offer our thanks to God for the blessings in our lives
We name before God those who have died.
Now to God who is able to do immeasurably more than all we can ask or conceive, by the power which is at work among us, be glory in the Church and in Christ Jesus throughout all ages. Amen.
Accept our thanks for all you have done, O God. Our hands were empty, and you filled them.
May Christ’s holy, healing, enabling Spirit be with us every step of the way, and be our guide as our road changes and turns, and the blessing of God our Creator, Redeemer and Giver of life be among us now and remain with us forever. Amen.
Reflections this month offered by: Kathleen Schmidt
