The Gift of Vulnerability and Following…

The softly lit room sheltered the gentle chatter of folks lounging around the dinner table, as others sat nearby on a scattering of small benches, waiting. I found myself in this room quietly sitting on a wooden bench, facing this man whose eyes gently gazed back at me. A white towel rested on his knee as he placed an earthen bowl of water on the ground between us. I sat there, still, and somewhat puzzled by my resistance. Why did I so resist removing my sandals? This quiet man only wished to wash my feet. Yet I just sat there glancing down at the sewn straps which shielded my skin, as he patiently waited. In the next moment the call of a bell broke through my trance, beckoning me to open my eyes and join our Sunday church forum group. This out-of-time scene had emerged in my mind during our group prayer meditation. Yet it stayed with me as I drove home and on afterwards.

Why had I been so resistant to baring my feet? And why this scene at the beginning of Lent? Could it have been the simple notion of not wanting to bare my imperfections? (On a minor scale, I often walk barefoot around the house, in and out, in warmer weather.) In my meditative vision, the eyes gazing back at me had been those of the man from Nazareth. Surely he knew me well. Tossing around the possibility of this idea as my reason became futile.

During these 40 days of Lent, I tend to journey between Jesus’ day trips with the disciples through town and country, and his time spent in the desert. And now I pondered; what if this year I took off those sandals to follow Jesus footsteps more closely? What if my resistance had been about entering into the unknown? This questioning thought has left me with an awe….. and a little fear. Yet I cannot do otherwise.
  
Sometimes it seems our ‘giving things up’ for Lent is almost like making a New Year’s resolution. We give something up for 40 days... and then what? While our intentions are good… we are still in control. Several Sundays ago at English Lutheran, we had the chance to listen to author Brene Brown talk about the power and gift of being vulnerable. Not always an easy place to live into.

Yet within this place of unknowing, where we may not be in control, we are gifted with the journey of opening ourselves into the mystery of God’s grace and gifts. We are invited to explore a depth within our spirits we may not have imagined. It is a lifelong exploration so worth the venture even with all our possible trepidations.

St. John of the Cross writes about the journey into one’s interior… into the whole of our being, with all our beauty and imperfections, through all our loves and sufferings. It is here that we come face to face with our vulnerability, where we gain the courage and/or calling to take off our sandals, and where we face once again the awesome mystery of God’s loving grace. St. John writes, “When you regarded me, your eyes imprinted your grace in me. In this you loved me again, and thus my eyes merited to also love what you see in me. Let us go forth together, to see ourselves in Your beauty.”

And so I leave you here with this song and prayers for your Lenten journey.

Shalom,
Susan