Sunday June 9th 2019
Pentecost Sunday (Cycle C)
Another Language
The tie in between
today’s readings: Metaphors
I am wrestling with the task of understanding spiritual principles
and I’m stumbling over my feet. It’s a
strange and alien world that does not translate well. It’s like trying to
describe color to a blind man. In our reading in John 14 today, for example,
Jesus speaks about the Godhead abiding in each other and in us: knowing us,
giving us life, leading us in truth. To
me it sounds like:“I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all
together...goo goo g’joob*. It’s all so openly cryptic. When it comes to the
Trinity I think of an old guy, a bearded middle aged guy, and a bird. Now, I
know this isn’t anywhere near the right portrayal of God, but my limited mind
keeps bringing these concepts down to the familiar. I don’t know how to break
out of my religious molds. ButI can tell you this; I’ve been at this for a
while now. I have a headache. I am frustrated, tired, and going to bed...
The Creator Flies a Kite
(Psalm 104:1; 24; 29-31)
I see a cloud of kite swarming over the ocean. I round the
curve in the beach and cross under the fishing pier. Now I have a clear view of
the scene. I am astonished! There were so many kites that I had imagined a
large crowd, young and old alike each holding one, but no. Just one man with
countless lines anchored in the sand stretching toward the sky like strings of
a gigantic harp. I’m close enough now
for conversation. I don’t want to speak
first for fear of disturbing his concentration as he moves among the cords:
pulling, reeling and slacking the lines. Besides, there is so much to take in!
Kites of all shapes and sizes: deltas, parafoils, sleds, dragon tails, and many
others weaving and dipping around a diamond arch frame. This chaotic
choreography was somehow all so beautifully controlled; I marvel.
“Do you like kites?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer, “and I can see that you really do.”
“I design and build each one myself.” He beams, “Right up
here.” He points to his temple with a finger.
“Impressive. Does it take a long time?” I ask.
“Most people might think so, but I’m pretty quick at making
things and I’m very good at it, I might add...no brag, just fact.” he replies.
“Do you want to fly one?”
“Really?”
“Sure, let’s see. OK, take this string to that delta there,
yes, Phoenix.” It is an absolutely beautiful kite. He so captured the pride and
power of the bird, it is like flying art. Nervously, I hold the string and it
sternly jerks my hand in a frantic tug-of-war to be free.
“It wants to run,” he shouts over the surf, “Convince it to
stay. Focus. Feel! Speak with the
string, and the wind to the kite, not at it.”
I relax. I join in the conversation of the flux and flow of
cord and wind. I feel, YES! The kite
is alive! It awakens something within me.
The discovery is quite unexpected, like finding money in the pocket of some
forgotten jeans. “Oh my God, this is fantastic!” I exclaim in exhilarated
surprise.
“Yes,” he said knowingly. He lets me have my kite fix and we
talk. It is therapeutic. After awhile he tells me to reel it in.” He takes it
from me. “That’s all for you, Phoenix.” he says
and quickly dismantles it with rough and nimble fingers. It is gone in
an instant, broken down to its fundamental pieces. He sees my disappointment.
“Don’t cry because it’s over smile because it happened. I’m giving you the
pieces to take home, put Phoenix together for yourself; enjoy her.”
“Thank you, very much!” I say, “You know I never got your
name.”
“You can call me, Iam.”
“Iam. That’s different,” I say.
“Yes, there’s a story behind it. But, before you leave, take my
card. Go to where they do the paragliding and show it to the owner. Tell him
Iam sent you.”
“Paragliding?” I said puzzled.
Iam answers “Trust me.”
Zoey and the Paraglider
(John 14, Romans 9:8-17)
After being lost for a while, I find the paragliding office. I
walk in to see a gorgeous young woman with fiery red hair, green eyes, and
beautiful dove white skin.
“May I help you?” she asks in a cooing voice.
She’s bedazzling and I blank for an instant. I see her name
tag: Zoey. “A...a...man told me to ask for the owner.” I stammer.
“A man? Who?” she asks.
I reach into my pocket. “He gave me his card. It’s a little
bent...sorry. Do you know him?”
“Yes, we know him very well,” she goes out a side door, waves, and
comes back in. “He’ll be with you in a minute.
There’s a knock at the door. I open it. He’s tall, rugged, middle aged, and wearing a
white t-shirt with red letters “Easy Yolks”, which is the breakfast place next
door.
“I’m Angus, pleased to meet you,” he shakes my hand. “I see
you’ve already met Zoey.”
“He has one of your father’s cards,” informs Zoey.
“Is that so?” he says. “OK, my friend, you come with me.”
“Is it safe?”
“Now, what do you think? Have a little faith and follow me,”
Angus opens the door and we walk out together.
We follow a trail of coin sized blood splatters leading to the
edge of the pier. I ask Angus about it. “I had an argument with some nails.” he
says. Halfway along Angus stops and steps into a shed. He starts handing me
gear: life jacket, helmet, straps...He slips everything on me. I’m really
starting to wonder if this is a good idea, after all. He reads my face.
“If you don’t want to do this now’s the time to stop,” Angus
says.
“Can I call it off once I’m in the air?” I ask.
“Listen,” he gets up close and personal, “I put my life’s blood
into this business. I sweat for this place, your helmet, that harness, all so I
could share the joy that I have when I’m up there with others,” He plants a
finger from the bandaged hand in my chest and continues, “So, when we’re up
there, if you can’t appreciate my sacrifice or what I’m doing here, I’ll be way
beyond unhappy. Understand?”
“Yes!” I am more afraid of him now than any paraglide ride.
“Ok, let’s do this.”
“Great! Don’t worry,” he soothes, “We’re tandem. You and
I...we’ve got this.” Angus puts an encouraging hand on my shoulder and finishes
with the last buckle.
I’m in the harness. Angus is behind me. There are a few yards
of pier ahead of us and then a drop to the water. Angus gives me instructions,
“You understand everything?”
I nod.
“Now, let’s take that leap of faith everyone talks about...GO!”
he adjusts the wing as we race to the edge. The wind picks us up, and the earth
loses its grip.
The ropes groan with the strain of our weight and I’m
apprehensive. “OK, up front?” Angus asks.
“Are you sure the ropes will hold? another dumb question.
“Well, I don’t know,” Angus tells me and this sends a shock up
my already adrenaline saturated spine, “If you lift your feet up it may help to
make us lighter,” He laughs, “Relax. If you think we’re too high, I’ll take us
down.” He sends us into a roller coaster like dive toward the ocean. I scream
like a little girl. We pull up feet above the water. I feel like I could almost
walk on it as we skim the surf. “Sorry to mess with you,” he says from behind,
“but you have to let your fear go and get into the moment. Trust me. I AM VERY
GOOD!” he shouts and we climb toward the sun like Icarus. He’s right. I have to
chill. So, I let go of my fear the best I can, trust him, and pretend I’m
sitting in my lounge chair at home. The view is breathtaking; miles of land and
sea stretch out in all directions. The panorama is so beautiful that I forget
my anxiety. Peace covers me like a blanket and I feel like the king of the
world! Angus is doing maneuvers and I love it! So many experiences on different
levels: trust in my co-pilot and the fragile strength of the glider, the
exhilaration of speed, the wonderful control of rope and canopy for our
skybourne ballet, the wonder of the air
that suspends our bodies in space and simultaneously enters my lungs, but I do
not burst open! I am one with the wind. I am the kite set free! I am a Phoenix!
I defy death with the Paraglider and I am born again! Thank you, IAM!
All Together Now
(Pentecost Acts 2:1-11)
I hear a female voice behind me say, “Happy birthday!”
I turn around. It’s Zoey! “What are you doing here? Where’s
Angus?”
“We’re all here! Iam too! Now hold your arms up at the sides
and close your eyes. Your new life begins now.
I comply. There’s a flash. The wind violently rushes behind me,
collapsing the glider around me like a blanket. Suddenly, I lose all sensation
of it. I open my eyes to see that I am a sail tied to a crossed shape mast.
Somehow, I know it’s Angus. I see that I am one of many sails on the rigging,
pulling our vessel on its way. I look down and see captain Iam at the helm.
Zoey whispers to me in the wind that stretches me with power “Look to the
horizon. We are joining the fleet!”
As we catch up, I see ships of all shapes and sizes from all
over the world: Schooners, Galleons, Brigs, Junks, Longships, Dromons...I’m
overwhelmed. All have their signal flags flying the same message: Jesus Saves.
Our armada circumnavigates the globe and reaches every port of our world, up
every river, and into the most remote tributary with the gospel message. Then
with our mission accomplished, we sail off the edge of the earth and fly like
Peter Pan, course heading: heaven!
I Wake Up
That was a very strange dream, but maybe we need the language
of dreams and poetry to better grasp the spiritual. Perhaps it could be that
metaphors, similes, and stories are the dots and dashes of God’s Morse code to
communicate to us. After all, Jesus taught in parables. When it comes to the
spiritual, things are not always what they seem. We need to read the Bible
between the lines: to observe and not only see. To see that symbols surpass
mere words. To understand that concrete thought is the concrete that’s holding
us down. Let Go!
●
I am the Walrus. The
Magical Mystery Tour by the Beatles
