Dear Incarnation,
This fall, we will be preaching the lectionary stories from Mark's gospel. We kicked this off on Sunday, when I preached on the healing of a man who is deaf and has a speech impairment. I touched a bit on the broader issue of disability, which will come up again and again in Mark's gospel. Disability theology is close to my heart for many reasons, including the fact that our church includes people with physical and intellectual disabilities, and their gifts and participation are vital to our community. If you are interested in exploring this topic further, please reach out for a conversation or resource recommendations! (And perhaps you'd enjoy this presentation of the passage by and for a Deaf community in Kenya, which I watched last week; after a brief introduction, it begins at 1:26.)
***
There's also another detail in Sunday's gospel reading that I love, even though it didn't make its way into the sermon:
"Then looking up to heaven, Jesus sighed and said, 'Ephphatha,' that is, 'Be opened.'" (Mark 7:34)
We don't know exactly what Jesus' sigh meant, but most interpreters see it as a form of embodied prayer. And because Jesus was a human just like us, we can imagine that his sigh represents the same emotional range as our own sighs: Weariness and frustration with the world's problems. A deep, exasperated longing for things to be set right. Resignation to the task before him. Attunement to his own breath and body as places of God's presence and instruments of God's work.
When the weight of the world is great, our sighs can be a form of wordless prayer for God's intervention. And it is comforting to know that Jesus sighs with us.
There is much in the world deserving of our sighs. Last week we saw yet another school shooting and more loss of innocent life in Georgia. Today brings the anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. I finally visited the memorial in NYC during my vacation a few weeks ago, two massive fountains flowing into seemingly bottomless chasms under where the two towers had once stood. It was somber and evocative, and made me feel momentarily hopeless in the face of such loss, such animosity.
Priest and theologian David O. Taylor has written some Prayers for a Violent World that I often turn to in moments like these. Praying the words of others can be a form of "sighing" — a restful form of prayer that does not require us to generate new, original words of our own. On Sunday, Shari prayed Taylor's "Prayer for After a Mass Shooting" during the Prayers of the People. We've prayed that on at least four other Sundays in recent memory, which itself seems a tragedy. I've included that prayer and his prayer for 9/11 below.
Prayer for After a Mass Shooting
O Lord, you who abhor those who murder the innocent, be not deaf to our bitter cries, we pray, and do not abandon us to our pain this day. Hear our raging words of protest, O God of Jacob, heed our groans for justice, and meet us in this lowly and desperate place. Awake, Lord! Rouse yourself! Deliver us from evil, for your name’s sake, so that we might witness your might to save and your power to heal. We pray this in the name of our Fortress and Refuge. Amen.
Prayer for the Remembrance of 9/11
O Lord, you who are the God of the living and the dead, we remember this day those who died on 9-11: we thank you for all who sacrificed their lives in the service of others, and we pray that you would heal all lingering traumatic memories; that you would mend all relations that remain broken still, between neighbors and nations; and that you would kindle in us the true love of justice and peace, so that we might work toward a day on which nation shall not lift up sword against nation. We pray this in the name of our Strong Deliverer. Amen.
In this world there is much that evokes our sighs. But take heart! Jesus has overcome the world, and he sighs with us in the meantime.
If you are troubled by the weight of the world, or if there are things for which you are sighing in your own life, please reach out to me, Katie, or Russell. We would love to listen, pray, and sigh with you.
Love,
Amy
Comments