Disorientation, Reorientation and Silence
In this improvisational sermon, we explore the deep trust that is fostered as we move from orientation, to disorientation, to reorientation, recognizing the Spirit’s presence in our lives. While existing ways of life change and break down, new expressions of life are always rising. The Spirit remains at work, and our eyes are opened to trust more fully.
The Glimpses of Grace podcast is a ministry of Grace Episcopal Church in Gainesville, Georgia. We are passionate about supporting the spiritual growth of souls, and we hope these sermons and conversations meet you where you are and enrich your soul as we all continue to make meaning in the world today.
Glimpses of Grace on Spotify
Transcript
In the name of the father,
and of the son,
and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
So I want to invite us this morning to look at the Gospel and the text from Isaiah especially. And then we are going to actually share in five minutes of silence, because I wonder when the last time it was that you were able to sit in intentional silence and just receive and be present. So I will guide us through that.
Looking at the Gospel first.
When some are speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, Jesus said, ask for these things that you see. The days will come when not one stone will be left upon another. All will be thrown down.
And from Isaiah:
For I am about to create new heavens
and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered
or come to mind.
But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I am creating;
Having these two texts side-by-side presents us with an opportunity to reflect on some of the deeper aspects of spiritual practice. One of the truisms, you might say, across faith traditions, is that there is a pattern that we all go through as humans and is often very uncomfortable. We start out with a state of orientation. We start out being in a certain place, orientation there, the way we see life, the way life is. And then we are brought, often painfully so, into a space of disorientation. Things change. Things fall apart. Things break. Sometimes we’re given an opportunity for the better. But no matter what it is, there’s a change – a dis-orientation. And after we go through this with our spiritual practice, we enter into a space of re-orientation. We’re brought into a new way of being. We see life in a different way.
So no matter what faith background that we have, that is a common thread amongst us all as human beings and it’s also a deep teaching space for all the world’s faiths, how we come to grips with that. How we make meaning of that transition and that movement from orientation to dis-orientation to re-orientation.
We don’t like change. I don’t know anyone who just seeks it out, no matter what. If you do, avoid those people. But we don’t like change and we find ourselves being the humans that we are, wanting to get into patterns of thought and action so that we maintain a certain status quo, a certain equilibrium. We like things the way that we have them, because we’ve worked in some sense to get them to a point where they benefit us. We get some sense of stability out of them. And then of course, life happens. Life changes. There’s a loss of some kind, an opportunity of some kind. Some force exerts itself on our life and moves us out of that state where we knew all that was going on into a space where perhaps we don’t know anything that’s going on. Perhaps it’s totally new. And then, of course, we go through all of the processes around grief, around loss, around hoping and praying to make meaning, finding meaning. And then with the Spirit’s guidance, we find ourselves brought into a space where we realize that God has always been with us and we are re-oriented. And we discover once more hope in the Spirit’s presence in our lives. Although we don’t go back. And that’s part of the truism of and part of where grief and new life and hope actually meet and hold hands is that we don’t go back. We can’t go back. We go forward. We go forward into a space of new life and hope. But we don’t ever forget where we were. And we don’t have to deny what we’ve gone through and where we were.
So we see that in the Gospel text. We see Jesus standing there with those who are gathered around him that day, showing him, if you will, the wonderful new church development that they had done. And it’s very, very impressive. This external space, if you will, that they have invested themselves in, their time, talent and their treasure. They’ve poured themselves into it. And Jesus is standing there. And I always wonder what it felt like in the pause just before he speaks. I often think about that. And Jesus tells them, “as for these things that you see, the days will come and not one stone will be left upon another. All will be thrown down.” And I wonder what they felt in that moment, how dis-oriented they felt.
And then they ask them, “when will these things take place?” because people, being the people who we are, we want to know. “Give us some insight. Let us know. So we can prepare ourselves in some sense for what’s coming.” That’s also a pattern that we have. “Give us something to hold on to.” And Jesus tells them “do not be led astray by those who give a false sense of certainty.” Notice what he says there. “Do not be led astray by those who assert themselves and say, I am He. I have the answer. Follow me. I know what’s best. I can take away all of your pain.” “Don’t be led astray by that,” Jesus says. But to recognize that you’ll be brought through a period of tension, of dis-orientation.
But once we go through this phase, Jesus says, with the Spirit’s presence in our lives and Jesus always drawing on the wisdom of the prophets, he didn’t quote Isaiah, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he was whispering it in his own mind when he told them this. This line from this morning’s reading, “for I am about to create a new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered, but be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating.”
Yes, what you’re going through is hard. The pain, the struggle, the uncertainty, the fear, the anxiety, all that comes with that in moments in times of trial, that is all true. And not one bit of it should be discounted or dismissed. And still all of that is placed within the larger perspective of the Spirit’s guidance, of the promise, always of God saying “pay attention. I am about to create a new thing.”
We’re coming to the close of the church’s calendar year, where we observe this transitional space, if you will. Next Sunday, is the feast of Christ the King, where we close out the church’s year, and the first Sunday of Advent is the first day of the church’s new year, where we step into this space to say, “how can we see? What muscles do we need to strengthen? How do we need to ground ourselves so that we can see in this transitional moment that new birth is coming? That the promise of new life is just over the horizon? What do we need to do? What practices do we need to take on so that we can tune our hearts so that we can open the ears of our heart, open our eyes to receive that promise of the Spirit’s indwelling presence in our lives?”
That’s the deep truth about what we do. It’s never just to smooth-over, but it’s to be able to come in this space, in any space, but in this space, to be honest about what we feel, what we struggle with, and to know that we are surrounded by so great a cloud and a present company of witnesses, that we can hold each other up and remind each other. “Remember what Isaiah said? Pay attention, because I’m about to move to do a new thing.” God says “I’m about to bring about a new creation.”
So to help us prime that pump, because those are muscles that we need to strengthen, let us share some time this morning in silence and practice it. Practice the waiting and the listening. So I invite you to sit upright with your back against the pew and your feet on the floor, feeling your feet on the ground.
Just like an hour and a half. Something small.
But if it’s not your practice or it just really wigs you out to close your eyes, you don’t have to. Let your eyes go around the room and land on something. Perhaps it’s stained glass. Perhaps it’s an image of an icon or a cross. Perhaps your eyes land on the clouds outside, through the windows. On the sun. But sit and breathe together.
I’ll ring the bell. And then after about five minutes, I’ll ring it again.
BELL RINGS THREE TIMES
FIVE MINUTES OF SILENCE ELAPSE
BELL RINGS THREE TIMES
Give us eyes to see you.
Give us eyes to see you, O Lord.
And give us ears to hear you.
And give us hearts that can stretch and to help hold your vision for this world.
Amen.