“The Art of Release”
“The Art of Release”
Genesis 9:8-17 Psalm 25:1-10 Mark 1:9-15
Year B, First Sunday in Lent, February 18, 2024
Pastor Andy Kennaly, Sandpoint, Idaho
Last week I had breakfast while watching the news about Israel bombing a hospital filled with Palestinians in southern Gaza as part of a relentless military push. Israeli forces were preparing to invade the hospital, even as the people inside were scrambling through dust-filled hallways filled with those wounded and suffering in this tragedy upon tragedy. The video footage (online through Democracy Now) was from a doctor who described things as he walked around, and it was very bleak. (https://www.democracynow.org/2024/2/15/nasser_hospital_stormed_gaza)
A little later, the news show invited a professor to give perspective. That professor was in Geneva, Switzerland. (https://www.democracynow.org/2024/2/15/gaza_kenneth_roth, 38 minutes into video)
Now in the discussion, on one side of the screen was dusty destruction in dark hospital hallways, bodies covered in bloody bandages, and a situation of desperation and fear. On the other side of the screen, the Swiss Alps were the backdrop to a calm, flowing river with a large fountain, clean city streets, a city bus driving over a bridge, and lovely buildings with rooftop flags gently waving in blue sky and sunshine. One was idyllic, and one was nightmarish.
What bubbled up inside me in response to this contrast of realities at first was a feeling of guilt. I felt bad that I resonated with the Swiss and I would have loved to have spend my day in Geneva. In fact, I enjoy traveling to Europe. We have friends there, including Switzerland, and this fall I do hope to make it to France for a training on facilitating labyrinth walks.
Remember those labyrinths, wandering prayer paths that are a meditative tool to help people learn and grow through experiential faith. But I felt guilty because it seems so privileged to learn about ancient labyrinths in lovely cathedrals; seems out of touch and lofty compared with the obvious needs of so many people in pain in other parts of the world. That grief sat with me at the breakfast table like a cloud of despair.
War is tearing up parts of the world. It demands attention. The Warrior state of consciousness empowered as hawkish politicians is relentless to pursue power and control by violence. The United States is held by the grip of this type of thinking. That’s why the US spends 40 percent of global military spending, outpacing the next 15 countries combined. It’s basically a trillion dollars a year at this point once you add up all the agencies. Yet we continue to elect people who think this is normal because our mental need for belonging and safety and security is engrained; yet it’s in a deficient form that is getting predictably, sadly, played out, and it’s going to get worse.
But as my mind reeled around geopolitics and the realities of how many bombs and missiles that explode in this world are made in America, I had a change of mind. While at first I felt guilt mixed with despair, like going to Europe would be a waste of money and not helpful for the mission field of God’s loving purposes in the face of such need; instead, I realized that it’s because of what is happening in the world that learning to use a prayer tool effectively helps people expand their heart’s capacity to love, their soul’s ability to resonate with others including their enemies.
Like Satan in the wilderness trying to test Jesus, like the flood in Genesis trying to clean house through widespread death, these are things that impose themselves. Love never imposes, always invites. While going to France to learn about prayer at first looked like something reserved for a privileged few and felt selfish, instead, it became of utmost importance on behalf of all. Like the rainbow given for all flesh, human and non-human, all creation. I was reminded that the work I do involves helping people expand their consciousness.
Problems we experience in life cannot be solved by the same mentality that creates them. Violence and war cannot achieve peace and tranquility with the same level of consciousness, the same images of God, the same ego-centered fears that make them possible. It’s a changed heart, a mind that becomes renewed, these are the types of repentance that lead through the wilderness and learn lessons of the Spirit.
Walking meditation, it’s pretty simple, whether on a labyrinth or a trail or in a dusty hallway. Prayer is one tool to help in the fulfillment of time, the nearness of the Kingdom of God, and the formation of the fully integrated human being as the Integral structure of consciousness unfolds, gifted from the future. The world is trying to live and the future, that nearness of God and fulfillment of time mentioned in Mark, the future is teaching us to change from our past in the present so a redemptive outcome will emerge.
This is hard work, learning to pay attention to spiritual subtleties, and there are no roads or maps. Without trying to sound cliché, Jesus is the Way. Jesus is the blueprint from whom we take shape in foundational ways as those who make the connection between repent and trust. Repent, change your mind; believe, have soul-filled trust. This blueprint links contemplative prayer, spiritual teachings, and divine Presence with action, embodied love, work toward peace and wholeness that is gifted.
I hope the larger world stops fixating on fear-driven, ego-reacting, border defending spasms of othering. I hope someday people realize that we are all walking the same path around the same center, just like we all take the same breath and have hearts that beat with the same rhythm. Rather than othering, which views people and everything as objects; through Integral structures, people practice the art of release, the path of letting go, and through humility, gratitude, and love, come to discover and share the essence of life, of Life abundant. This changes everything, starting in one’s own heart.
With that, war becomes obsolete, and its absurdities are exposed. The words of the psalmist echo, “To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust; do not let me be put to shame; do not let my enemies exult over me. Do not let those who wait for you be put to shame; let them be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous. Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths.” Then later, the Psalmist reminds us, “[The LORD] leads the humble in what is right and teaches the humble his way.”
As we go through this first full week of Lent, may we learn mindfulness toward Mercy and steadfast Love. May we never be ashamed to learn ways of prayer, for human transformation is our intent, and this helps heal the world. The Spirit teaches us what is needed. God’s beloved shows us how, even amidst the wild beasts. May we release that which needs let go so we may open through the repentance of a changed mind, and receive the good news that is trustworthy and leads to life. Thanks be to God for holding us all through the meandering journey of life, and for the infusion of light, for like a rainbow, the brighter the better, for the darker the storm and the more blinding the sun, the more brilliant the display, and the stronger the promise to remember God’s certainty of love for us and all the world. May rainbows of promise shine from our heart, both now, and forever. Amen.