Faces in the Crowd, Day 2

Thinking of You by Rachel Lee

This post is part of an on-going Lenten series that began Ash Wednesday. 

"Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side,
while he dismissed the crowds.

And after had had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. 

When evening came, he was there alone," (Matthew 14:22-23)

The face in the crowd that I see today is the one who believes, "It will always be this way." Another way of saying it might be, "My life is a tracing and re-tracing the same lines." When I attempt to enter silence and prayer, this is the face that seems to say, "Nothing new is going to happen as you pray." It's not true. Life continues to unfold. Circumstances are changing all the time. Over time, I am growing and becoming. I'm not the same as I was 5 years ago or even a year ago. In prayer and in life, God is always speaking, always making something new. 

As I gaze at Rachel Lee's Thinking of You, it has the appearance of being drawn with a single line. Could the shape of our souls be drawn with a single line? Yes and no. 

Today's vista and prayer:

• In what ways do you experience the feeling of "It will always be this way? Do you have other ways of articulating that same thought? 
• How does Rachel Lee's painting speak to you?
• We pray: Jesus, long ago you dismissed the crowd to be alone with God. Dismiss the part of me that is invested in tracing and re-tracing the same lines. Bring me into your presence where you make all things new. Amen.

Faces in the Crowd, Day 1

Woman Sitting in a Chair by Henri Matisse (1926)

"Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side,
while he dismissed the crowds.

And after had had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. 

When evening came, he was there alone," (Matthew 14:22-23)

For Lent this year, I am considering these short verses from the Gospel of Matthew. I want to explore the faces I meet in the crowd - not the exterior crowd, but the interior crowd of heart and soul. 

It feels a bit splintering to consider that there is an inner crowd within - who all want their say. I make a move towards silence and as soon as it grows quiet - there's the crowd. Sometimes I avoid prayer and silence because of what begins to happen when I slow down. It's much easier to get distracted by an errand or a tv show or the laundry. 

The face in the crowd I see today is that aspect of me that tries to live life without depending on anyone else. The can-do, self-sufficient, "I don't need anyone" attitude. This face in a crowd is a friendship wrecker and lives armored up.  To give too much attention to this face in the crowd means I'll go through life without letting myself be known. Life would be drained of color without the gifts of friendship and community. The truth is, I do depend on others for acceptance and friendship. I can't step into honest prayer as long as I'm holding on to the idea that I can handle life without needing other people. It's a stingy way to live. 

In sitting with the "Woman Sitting in a Chair" by Henri Matisse, I see a woman who is facing the viewer, but turning to hide herself and her heart. 

Today's vista & prayer:

• In what ways do you rely on your own self-sufficiency and "I don't need anyone" attitude? Are those foreign or familiar to you? 
• How does Matisse's painting speak to you?
• We pray: Jesus, long ago you dismissed the crowd to be alone with God. Dismiss the part of me that insists on trying to go through life without depending on others. Keep calling me towards friendship with you and others so I might be known. Draw me into your presence. Amen.

 

Ash Wednesday

Dispersing the Crowd by Khalid Hourani (2019)

"Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, 

while he dismissed the crowds. 

And after had had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. 

When evening came, he was there alone," (Matthew 14:22-23)

Before Jesus could go to the mountain and pray, he dismissed the crowds. Sent them on their way. 

I have visited and re-visited these few verses over the last few weeks. Tonight, they are leading me into the season of Lent. 

As I make plans to expand and deepen times of prayer and reflection over the next 40 days, I see a crowd has gathered. In some ways the crowd is made up of all the things in the exterior world that call out for attention. In other ways, the crowd is not only in the outer world, but causing a ruckus in the inner world of heart and soul. 

I sense an invitation to name the faces in the crowd. Who do I meet in the silence when I go into times of prayer? And what might happen if I am honest about the crowd who accompanies me even as I seek to be in God's presence alone?

In sitting with the "Dispersing the Crowd" by Khalid Hourani, I've found a vibrant image that reflects the inner crowd as well as his expression of a literal crowd of protestors. I share it with you for your own seeing and reflection. I was reminded in a small group last week, that we each experience art in our own ways and something different will stand out for each viewer. 

Today's vista & prayer:

• How will you walk with Jesus these Lenten days?
• Are you aware of an "inner crowd" who seems to accompany you into silence and prayer?
• How does Hourani's painting speak to you?
• We pray: Jesus, long ago you dismissed the crowd to be alone with God. When evening comes, dismiss the crowd once again so I might find rest and companionship in your presence. Amen.

 

 

The Gift of Journaling

 

Waiting Pages, March 2022

The waiting pages

where gospel is re-written 

by your hidden heart

* I heard once that at any given time we are living inside a gospel story. From time to time, I try to imagine what story it feels like I am living in. Our lives can read like gospel - signs, wonders, lessons, suffering, companionship, faith and doubt, death and resurrection - it's all there. And when I find that I'm out of touch with my heart and my feelings, a few pages of writing allows my heart to speak.