Water into Wilderness: a meditation

“Water into Wilderness” is an original art quilt (16″ x 16″) based on Mark 1:9-15, designed & sewn by pat…

Mark 1: 9-15  (Lent 1B)

⁹In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. ¹⁰And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.¹¹And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” ¹²And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. ¹³He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.          ¹⁴Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, ¹⁵and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” 

Jesus entered the waters of baptism and emerged into blessing.  But on the heels of blessing came the Spirit who drove Jesus into 40 days in the wilderness.  In Mark’s version, the specific nature of these 40 days of temptation by Satan is not described for us.

Water….into wilderness.

Perhaps it is also so with us.  We emerge from the waters of our birth into life with God and are pleased to hear words of affirmation that we are God’s beloved.  But when the Spirit drives us into a spiritually or emotionally dry place (as the Spirit inevitably will), do we learn to resist temptation, clarify who and whose we are, and ultimately rely on the waiting ministrations of God’s merciful angels?

With this meditation quilt, ponder your baptism.  Silver threads of water carry you back to the cleansing and refreshment of your own spiritual birth.  Where did you hear affirming words that you are beloved by God?   How did you sense or feel God’s embrace of you, just as you are?

 

+     Next, consider your own spiritual path that led you from these waters toward a wilderness.   Where was the Spirit in this time?  How did you experience this path as growing increasingly dry?   Where did your spiritual life begin to lose its “shine” and become dull?

+    Now, enter the wilderness.  Feel the times of your spiritual emptiness.  Reflect on the times you felt tempted, abandoned, uncertain of your call.  Feel it all.  Feel the thirst.

+     Going yet deeper into the wilderness, you notice the individual stones.  But there, something catches your eye:  a glint, a flash of light, of gold.   Barely visible, hidden in the crevasse of stones, is something small made of gold.    A treasure.  A ministration of angels.  Hope.

+    Your time in the wilderness comes to a close, and you make your way back along your spiritual pathway to the water.  You drink and are refreshed.  You begin the next step of your life of discipleship.  You may – at times – return to wilderness times, but in these and all times you follow Jesus, and live in the Spirit.

The First Sunday Without Church: My Year of Religious Tourism

Once a minister retires, what about Sundays?

You lose your worshiping community at the same time that you lose your role as worship leader.  The first Sunday just feels weird as you “play hookey,” but in fact, no one is expecting you to be anywhere, so there is no “hookey” now.  Eventually, you want to go somewhere, though, so you start anticipating the process of going from congregation to congregation looking for that place where your heart can rest enough to worship God.  I’m wondering if this year is going to be subtitled: “My Year of Religious Tourism.”

For someone steeped in church and worship, I know it’s a good thing to feel again the energy it takes to even think about going to a church for the first time.  Imagining the moment of walking in and being a new face without a “usual place” to sit is disconcerting.  And how does one choose where to sit?  You might sit in someone else’s usual pew, and they’ll swoop in like a bird coming to roost and find their perch already occupied.  It’s awkward to see that expression of dismay on their face before they remember that they’re supposed to be a Christian.

Do you just sit in the very back and plan to slip out quietly before anyone notices you?  Of course, there’s that internal conflict between wanting to slip out before anyone notices you so you’re not stuck in an awkward conversation with someone over-eager to add to the church rolls, and sticking around to find out that no one notices you at all.  Either way, it’s a bummer.  And you’ll have to resist the impulse to tattle-tale to the pastor that not one of his/her members spoke to you, so what’s this about being “a friendly church” on the front of the bulletin?

This morning, church-less, I want to trot out all the excuses that my less-well-attending parishioners used to lay on me:  “I worship God through nature,” or,  “I find God in the quiet on the lake.”  Uh-huh. And what God is that?  And how does that move you forward in your faith?

I’m sitting in the sun on my deck right now and see God’s hand all around me in the beauty of the birch and maple trees, in the warmth of the sun on my skin, and in the flutter of wings as the birds alight on the feeder.  But is that worship?  I pause and say a word of gratitude, but I wonder what the Word of God is for me today.   Maybe something about the lilies of the field, the birds of the air, they sow not, neither do they spin?

From Luke 12:

“He said to his disciples, ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

 ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

I’m not worried (at least today) about clothes or food, even though “the nations of the world” are worried about a potential global economic collapse tomorrow after the credit rating of the United States was just down-graded.  I’m worried about community, about faith community, and what I will find during My Year of Religious Tourism.  Does Jesus speak to that in these verses?

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, where you will worship, or where will be your church. For life is more than church, and the body more than just one body of believers…

I suppose the assurance “Do not worry” is enough.  Whether food and drink, or faithful worshiping community and a pew with my name on it, I shouldn’t worry about either the tangibles or the intangibles.

Is that Word of God enough?

Always.  It’s always enough.