(Back date issue-published 06/30)

The Still Point

A Time of Meditation and Reflection

The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Proper Seven

 

... 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

Praise to you, God, for all your work among us. Yours is the vigor in creation, yours is the impulse in our new discoveries. Make us adventurous yet reverent and hopeful in all we do. Amen.

The Gospel  Mark 4:35-41

When evening had come, Jesus said to his disciples, “Let us go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

 

Poem: “The Rain-bow”                                         by Thomas Love Peacock

The day has pass’d in storms, though not unmix’d
With transitory calm.   The western clouds,
Dissolving slow, unveil the glorious sun,
Majestic in decline.   The wat’ry east
Glows with the many-tinted arch of Heav’n.
We hail it as a pledge that brighter skies
Shall bless the coming morn.   Thus rolls the day,
The short dark day of life;   with tempests thus,
And fleeting sun-shine chequer’d.  At its close,
When the dread hour draws near, that bursts all ties,
All commerce with the world, Religion pours
Hope’s fairy-colors on the virtuous mind,
And, like the rain-bow on the ev’ning clouds,
Gives the bright promise that a happier dawn
Shall chase the night and silence of the grave.                                                                           

 

Meditation

On this weekend when we in Denver commemorate LGBTQIA+ Pride and celebrate the glorious diversity of God's boundless presence within human beings, I'm thinking about the sacramental gift of water, the element that animates and actuates our baptism in Christ. The tumultuous storms that wrack today's Lectionary readings, in the psalm, in the life of Job, and in the scene of Jesus sleeping in the boat while his disciples shout in terror, are full of violent, merciless, deadly churns of water. But then there is a vision, painted by Peacock's poem, of the art water makes when the angle is just right for light to refract through it - a rainbow, the sign of God's covenant with us, written in water, and the image that has become the emblem of Pride, the sign of love-beauty that shines from the sleeping Jesus in the boat-stern.

 

It seems that the nature of water and our relationship to it depends on our perspective. It's so easy to glimpse a beautiful rainbow shining in the distant sky and to muse about God's presence in that moment. It's much harder to hold the vision of that loving presence when the waves are hitting us in the face, when there's water going up our noses and choking us, when the current is swirling us into what feels like our doom.

 

In our communities, in our country, and in the world, we are facing uncertain times. Storms have gathered all around us, our navigation is shaky, and threats seem to close in on every side. This is especially true for the least among us, those who lack resources, who lack privilege, who lack advocacy in the halls of power. And it's true, we're not more powerful than these storms. Alone, we are pretty helpless against their wrath. Yet, through the spray of saltwater crashing, there it is - can we perceive it? a hint of light and peace to anchor us, glinting every color, there to embrace us and nudge us forward; there, still there, after the storm is spent. Let us hold our gaze upon it, for its name is Love - it will not let us drown.

Questions for Reflection

- What are the storms in your life right now? What do you see are the storms looming over our community, our country, our world? What happens when the word of Love rings a shaft of light through these storms? What becomes of them then?

- The storms of Scripture are pretty negative experiences. Can you think of a storm, in life or in literature or art, that has been a positive experience?

- When does the water of life become a storm for you? When does the water of life become a rainbow for you? 

- Consider that the Baptismal Covenant calls us to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves. We are called to shine the light of Christ for one another, to be rainbow beacons amid each other's storms. Who has been that all-color light in your life? When have you noticed yourself beaming that all-color light for someone else? Let us give thanks for this light that always shines even through the dark times, and for the people who reflect it for 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.

 

Gracious God, you hear all our prayers: those we speak aloud, those we hold in our hearts, and those prayers for which we have no words. Hear the prayers of your people, and grant them as may be best for us, for the sake of your holy name. 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: Katie Schmidt

Image Credit: from The Rainbow Goblins by Ui de Rico