Stir Your Soul, Lift Your Spirit, Open Your Mind
Jenny Beaumont, Director of Adult Spiritual Formation, offered this outstanding devotion at our weekly staff meeting this week. I hope you find it as meaningful as we did. - Joan
Stirring, lifting, and opening have often filled and animated my life. Sometimes it is new, sometimes it seems dangerous, and most of the time it is uncomfortable. As I look through this past year, before our new season of Advent begins, I want to remember how my soul stirred, my spirit lifted, and my mind opened.
Stirring is easy and often automatic. I stir the pots on the stove. I stir the cat food, so the old and the new are balanced. I stir the conversations around the kitchen counter. I want to stop that stirring more often than not. I like a more peaceful table than those with whom I share a table. I stir my mood – and try to get it moving some days. I wonder how I might be stirring in the wrong direction. As to stirring my soul, I read, watch, and learn from the saints God has placed in my path. My daughter once asked, “Mom, what sets your soul on fire?” The answer begins for me by noticing what is stirring my soul — what is giving energy and warmth. Mostly I want to pay attention to the whispers of my soul — the movements, the turning, and the changing.
Lately, lifting has become a stranger to me. After some recent surgery, lifting anything over five pounds was off-limits. Five pounds is about the weight of a gallon of milk, and that meant that even my trusted cast-iron skillet was in temporary retirement. Because the usual physical work of lifting was out of bounds, I considered instead how God and the people around me lift my spirit. So does a simple kindness, or passing along a good book to the next reader. Calling a friend or cooking a meal lifts my spirit high. Focusing on the breath, centering, and contemplation lifts my spirit. I thought about how Jesus lifted the spirits of others — with laughter. With a kind touch. With healing. With connection. Showing up and not showing off. How many times must have Jesus lifted his hand or arm to lift others meeting them where they were at that moment? Lifting spirits seems to be the work of God and humans.
Opening my mind has been challenging as well. Jesus seemed to be forever changing his mind and changing course — healing the women who reminded him that the Messiah was sent for all people, not just the Israelites. On his way to healing Jairus's daughter, Jesus paused to respond to and heal a woman on the way. In this season of pandemic and polarization, I have been urging disagreement without demonization of the other side. Seeking common values. Seeing Christ in the other. Of course, if I am going to ask others to do that, I must work to do the same. I spent an evening with a close friend who has an opposite political sensibility to mine. We spent the evening eating, drinking, talking – sometimes loudly — and loving each other. We asked why, and how, and when. We asked what is most important to you? We wondered how we could follow Jesus in this world. I didn't want another version of my friend. I didn't want an upgraded friend — no second versions or re-dos. I wanted to know her just as she was, and I know she wanted the same thing from me. What a rare gift. We affirmed that our experiences — this pandemic, her news channel, my news channel, her views, my views, and this country – would not tear us apart. We will cling to each other fiercely. I realized that an open mind is as much about perspective-taking as it is about loving and trusting.
In this election week, I am grateful for the ways my soul is stirred, my spirit lifted, and my mind opened. I am better for the year 2020. Not the same. Not improved, yet more present, more grounded, more alive. And more confident in not knowing what is coming next. May we continue moving forward, knowing we are walking with angels, and growing stronger with each minute that passes.
This prayer offered by Bishop Steven Charleston, a Native American elder, a citizen of the Choctaw Nation, and a bishop in the Episcopal Church, has been a comfort to me at this moment. Let us pray:
Still, now our nervous heart, spirit of life, calm the flutter of our breathing, for we are in a vulnerable place, and find ourselves seeking the scent of the air, a community grown uncertain, as afraid of running as standing still. This is why we need you, spirit of all creation.
We need you to stand in our midst, to be seen in our midst, as clearly as possible, our champion and our hope, not to face this struggle for us, but to remind us why we are facing it for ourselves. We need your strength, Old One, we need your reassurance.
Still now our nervous heart. Calm our breathing. For we are resolved: we are neither running away nor standing still. We are turned to the wind, looking ahead to see what tomorrow brings. We are moving forward, knowing we are walking with angels, growing stronger with each minute that passes.
Amen