Foundational
“Foundational”
Year C Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost, September 4, 2022
Deuteronomy 30:15-20 Psalm 1 Luke 14:25-33
Pastor Andy Kennaly, First Presbyterian Church, Sandpoint, Idaho
A couple Fridays ago I had an article in the paper. The Bonner County Daily Bee. In that Pastor’s Corner piece, I mentioned my kitchen sink still embedded in the countertop laying askew in the driveway as we undertake an update in part of our kitchen. This kitchen project is one of a long list of projects. It seems like there’s always something with home ownership, upkeep and repairs are relentless.
Kind of like this church building as our congregation looks at one thing after another. We’ve redone the outside trim and some painting on the historic section. There’s been a total replacement of the front entry as the old awning and steps were worn out, and the update is amazing. Now the air conditioners are going out, the heat in Fellowship Hall doesn’t work, there’s electrical wiring to do, flooring updates as the tiles crack, a drinking fountain leak; one project after another, and this doesn’t even count the Labyrinth or finishing the Peace Garden, which is a mission outreach for the community. Sometimes I get overwhelmed, here and at home, with projects. What starts out exciting and fun turns into an energy-draining distraction. Other things in life get put on hold, set to the side, or forgotten.
No wonder something caught my eye this week on the website for Contemplative Outreach of Colorado, the host for a Centering Prayer retreat I’ll attend next March. They have a quote from Thomas Merton, who lived at an abbey in Kentucky from 1941 until his death in 1968, and “was an American Trappist monk, writer, theologian, mystic, poet, social activist and scholar of comparative religion.” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Merton)
Merton’s quote is this: “To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to the violence of our times. The frenzy of our activism neutralizes our work of peace. It destroys our own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.” (https://centeringprayersnowmass.godaddysites.com/retreat-schedules)
“The root of inner wisdom…makes work fruitful.” This is foundational. How do we help this root of inner wisdom? It seems important to get this right, especially in the face of the violence of our times, the frenzy. Like the Psalmist who recognizes there is advice, but sometimes it is from the wicked and it’s easy to get sucked in and lose ones’ happiness. To delight, to be like a tree planted by streams of water, yield fruit in due season, and have leaves that do not wither; this involves meditation.
St. Benedict in 516 wrote The Rule of St. Benedict to help monks live in community under the authority of an abbot. One community just four hours from us in Cottonwood, Idaho; St. Gertrude’s Monastery. The sisters there observe the Rule of St. Benedict, and they are called Benedictines. The website for their Spirit Center mentions this: “[St. Benedict] said, ‘Listen with the ear of your heart.’ Why? It is this type of listening that allows the hearing of divine wisdom and inspiration that guides our lives into ever-increasing fullness, peace, and joy. But sometimes the noise and blur of life make that difficult. That is why we offer you the opportunity to come to Spirit Center and listen.” (https://stgertrudes.org/retreats/28/individual-retreat/) And it goes on to talk about individual retreats and other programs they have there.
Listen with the ear of your heart. Like Psalm 1, on the law of the LORD, they meditate day and night, this is listening with the heart.
Meditation can be a way of focusing, of helping us, like the author of Deuteronomy suggests, to “choose life, love and obey God, and hold fast to God.” But the Church hasn’t always focused on this or taught Christians how to meditate or stay grounded in the root of inner wisdom, let alone trust inner experience. It’s hard work, and even the Church doesn’t always get this prayerful living right.
In 2017 on the Sabbatical trip to Slovenia, Shawna and I visited a castle embedded into a cliff on the side of a mountain. We toured the inside and one of the rooms is where a priest would sleep. His comfortable bed chamber was right next to a small chapel. He was the private chaplain for the wealthy royalty, in this case a bandit who made his money by holding up other wealthy people out on the roads, then retreating to his castle. The priest’s bedchamber also had a railing in it, like a balcony. This overlooked an inner chasm, and below was the castle’s dungeon. From the priest’s bedroom, you can look down and see where people were chained to stone walls or put into devices that cause harm. The priest catered to the wealthy who made their money by thievery, just above the torturous treatment of prisoners in a medieval dungeon. Our Halloween haunted houses got nothing on this reality experienced by too many suffering souls. They all suffered because of spiritual blindness and roots of inner wisdom that had been severed, replaced by the violence of the times.
Friends, the Church has not always done things right, has not always walked in God’s vision of light and life, of blessing and shared prosperity. The Church has sometimes had the opposite effect through insistence of power and control, and confusing commandments, ordinances, and decrees, meant to bring life, and instead using them to oppress people. This still happens, for the heart is often led astray, can turn away and not hear, or misrepresents, God’s conversation of love.
One thing the Church has carried over the history of Christianity are sacraments. The Lord’s Supper is one of those sacraments. We approach the table of communion, community-union, a commune that seeks connection with God and one another. Words of invitation resonate in our heart and soul. Somehow, we trust that the Holy Spirit works in deeper ways than our limitations. We not only partake of Christ’s body, but we are sent into the world as Christ’s body. We re-member, as a people, through hearts that seek God’s purposes, not for selfish gain or the will of a few, but toward the common good and in relationship with everything created, both seen and unseen.
In the same way communion is an outward act intended to help us notice Christ’s living presence in our lives, meditation is intended to help us be in God’s presence. Growing into deeper awareness and shedding lesser concerns that we cling to, consciously and unconsciously, is part of giving ourselves over to God, trusting the Spirit.
Giving ourselves over. This is all-encompassing. Notice in Luke Jesus is travelling, and large crowds are travelling with him. He shares some hyperbolic language to make his point that dying to the self is part of losing your life to find life. The passage moves from large crowds to his words, “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.” From large crowds to none of you. From the people moving into a land to possess, to travelling, to giving up possessions. These scriptures are dynamic!
We have many possessions. Material things, thoughts, attitudes, identities, myths, worldviews, and assumptions people live and die for. “Give up all your possessions” points to more than just stuff, but the importance of learning the art of letting go. Meditation is a form of dying. One moment fades so another moment can be, and an openness is cultivated for what may come as the next moment unfolds.
As we live as Christ’s body, broken and given for the world, may we too continue to learn the art of letting go. May the root of inner wisdom be fed and nurtured by streams of love and life flowing through the Spirit. As we re-member the living Christ, may the ears of our hearts be open to the conversation of love that leads us to fruitful living that is not overwhelmed by the violence and frenzy of our times. May we love the LORD our God, obey, and hold fast, even as we deepen discipleship by letting go, to trust and be those who carry a cross and follow. May we hear Christ’s call with the ears of our heart, both now, and forever. Amen.