Flipping Tables

 "If we remember that we may care for ourselves and we may care for others, but it is God who cares for us all, and none of us is home yet.....If we remember that, our service to others will be as different as our sense of ourselves. There is no "us" or "them" out there, just us- all of us - lined up on the same side of God's counter." Barbara Brown Taylor

At some church kid's event sometime, Peanut learned the words to the song "We Won't be Quiet."

"We’ll shout it out loud

From a rooftop

We won’t be quiet

We’ve fallen for You hard

And we can’t stop

We won’t deny it"

For weeks on end, she jumped up and down in the house singing "We won't be quiet."

The song basically says "Man, I've found this Jesus and he's everything I've ever wanted/needed - I just can't be quiet about it."

That lyric "we won't be quiet" has been running through my head the last few weeks.

I believe so fiercely in gospel ......in the idea that we should act justly, love mercifully and walk humbly.....that I can't be quiet.

Love is a verb.

I believe we should love our neighbors as ourselves. All the neighbors.

I'm donating to the food pantry. I'm supporting businesses that promote inclusivity. I'm calling my representatives.

I won't be quiet.

I'm flipping tables.

I realized this week..........I want everyone else to flip tables too.

In fact, I'm kind of frustrated with the Mary/Martha aspect of it all.

But that's not my call to make.

Sometimes we are in a season of flipping tables.

Other times we are in a season of retreating to the wilderness.

It's not mine to decide for others what season you are in.

It's mine to make space for both seasons.

For me.

And for you.

I've learned about ME though that often I'm not really in the wilderness.

I'm in the temple. Afraid to flip the table.

I'm in the temple sitting in the back row. Hoping no one makes eye contact with me. Because man, confrontation is tough.

If we've always sat in the row, it's hard to stand up and flip the table.

If we've always been silent, it's hard to shout out "We won't be quiet. "

It's uncomfortable.

Everything about the gospel is uncomfortable.

Everything Jesus asks of his followers involves stepping outside the comfort.

Getting up out of the back row.

Flipping some tables.

Announcing "We won't be quiet."

Mama Warriors, if you are in a season of wilderness wandering.......that's okay.

If you are in a season of sitting in the temple uncomfortably, I challenge you to take that first step.

Stand up for something.

Whisper if you can't shout.

Act justly, love mercifully, walk humbly.

Silence

 "How strange it feels,

so right and so good,

to move forward together,

wearing our finitude like a badge -

a mess of ash,

a reminder:

you are dust,

and to dust you shall return."

Kate Bowler

Peanut and I attended the 12:00 pm Ash Wednesday service at church today.

The day time service does not include music.

Where a hymn would be during a regular Sunday Eucharist service, there is silence.

I noticed a few things today as we sat in the silence.

First, the music tells us what to do. The pianist starts and we stand. The pianist finishes and we sit.

Second, the music fills the transition. As we sit and wait for this or that, there is music.

Today I was overwhelmed by the silence?

It felt fitting for Ash Wednesday.

On Ash Wednesday you take a moment to wrestle with your own mortality.

From dust you came and to dust you shall return.

As someone who has experienced 3 tough losses in the last 4 months, I'm reminded intensely how much death is very much a part of life.

I have purposefully not shielded Peanut from this. We have been to hospitals. We have been to hospice situations. We have sat with those grieving. We have taken meals, we have held hands, we have sent cards. We have showed up in the dying, the grieving, and the silence afterwards.

As I sat in the silence today, I recognized how uncomfortable silence can be.

You see in the silence, it's just you and God.

In this season of wilderness wandering in Lent, silence seems fitting.

This morning I wrestled with what I hoped to gain in this Lenten season.

I hope to be fully present in each moment.

To learn to sit in the silence.

To wrestle with what I've done and left undone.

To mend that which is broken.

Mama Warriors, whether or not your tradition celebrates Lent, this time of wandering toward Easter is present for many of us.

I encourage you to take a moment each day to sit in the silence.

To remember from dust you came and to dust you shall return.