The holy ground here: an invitation to join the conversation

When the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” - Exodus 3:4-5

And when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you saying, “This is the way, walk in it.” - Isaiah 30:21

“The whole way to heaven is heaven itself.” - Teresa of Avila

[These are the Words for the Journey shared during yesterday’s gathering]

A couple of Saturdays ago, when we arrived at the Riverside Arts Market, my daughter and I instantly noticed how much this little place was teeming with life.

There were farmers selling produce, artists peddling their latest projects, and every kind of person imaginable meandering their way through the market. There was food in abundance & pets of every shape and size and just enough breeze to keep us cool. And because we had begun not wearing masks, we could finally see strangers’ entire faces.

I was standing in line for a food truck lunch just taking it all in when I caught the eye of a woman I did not know. Our eyes locked for a second and a smile broke out on both our faces. I think she was feeling the electricity, too.

Has it always been this good, I wondered, or after a year without these experiences, am I just waking up and paying attention?

I wonder the same about Moses. He left Egypt a desperate & fearful fugitive, a mess by all our measures. Totally disoriented & disheartened, I can't help but wonder if there had been other bushes he passed by until this one woke him up.

We don’t know, but we do know that this is where Moses wakes up to a new way of being in the world. Where before he had been unhinged, alienated & alone, he was now entering a divine dance, a partnership, a conversation.

What started as an odd disruption to his day - a bush on fire that would not burn up - led to an epiphany:

This is holy ground, Moses. Take off your shoes.

Later Old Testament writings explain that removing one’s shoes (or having them removed) canceled previously binding legal and social obligations (Deuteronomy 25:9-10; Ruth 4:7-8; cf. Amos 2:6, 8:6). Removing your shoes readied a person for new relationships and for new responsibility.

It signaled the start of something new. Here, barefoot, with his feet now directly pressing into the soil, Moses begins a conversation that will continue for the rest of his life. He is no longer alone - his “I” will soon become a “we”.

As he experiences fear, failure & success, as he deals with pain in the neck people and as he considers on more than one occasion just throwing in the towel - even as he leads his enslaved brothers & sisters on their journey toward liberation - he continues to carry on this conversation.

And it started here with taking off his shoes.

Right now during our Sunday gatherings, we are resetting a table with items that remind us of what is essential to our spirituality - to a life with God. Last Sunday we placed a candle on the table to represent our willingness to “be here” (here I am). Today, we’re adding a pair of sandals.

Let these shoes be a symbol of the ongoing conversation we are invited into. We have tended to call this conversation “prayer”.

Take a moment to be honest & to consider your response to this question: What word or phrase comes to mind when you hear the word “prayer”?

In her poem “The Summer Day”, Mary Oliver writes:

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass.

Despite having tried since I was a child to be a really good pray-er, like Mary Oliver, I don’t know exactly what prayer is either.

I have prayer journals out the ying-yang, I have countless books on prayer and have tried all kinds of methods of praying. Some have been meaningful, but I am always a beginner when it comes to the practice of prayer and while I am sure I’ll keep trying, Moses and a whole lot of other people of faith are reminding me - reminding us - that prayer is less about mastering a method & more about entering an ongoing conversation.

But we have seldom thought of prayer this way.

In fact, many of us have struggled to know how to pray - thinking we should, that we need to, even that we want to begin or to recover a meaningful prayer practice, but not knowing where to start. Very often our attempts make us feel like we are manufacturing something more than experiencing any kind of meaningful connection.

One of the voices that has been helping me to reimagine prayer is that of Fr. Richard Rohr. Consider thinking of prayer as “setting out a tuning fork”, he proposes. He has been helping me experience prayer as something more than what we conjure up. Prayer is something that is already happening & we are just tuning in, and the more we tune in, Rohr says, we begin to find ourselves:

“being led, being guided,

being loved, being used,

being prayed through - and

…no longer in the driver’s seat”.

As the prophet Isaiah imagined it:, we begin to develop a deep knowing in which

“your ears will begin to hear a word behind you saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it.’ ”

This sounds like what Jesus told his own disciples when they asked him how to pray. He told them to pray in a way that would put them in alignment with his way of being in the world: the way of trusting in enough for today, the way of forgiveness, of gratitude, of interdependence. He instructed them to pray in a way that would attune them to the unfolding of heaven on earth. He did not hand them a method, he imparted a mindset.

What might happen if we began to think about prayer, not as another thing on a long list of things we should be doing, but rather as an ongoing conversation we are invited into that helps us tune in to heaven on earth?

I resonate so much with what Barbara Brown Taylor is discovering in this newfound posture toward prayer: “when I am fully alert to whoever or whatever is right in front of me, when I am electrically aware of the tremendous gift of being alive; when I am able to give myself wholly to the moment I am in, then I am in prayer. Prayer is happening, and I am lucky enough to know that I am in The Midst.”

Maybe that is the invitation: to see that we are in The Midst - we are on Holy Ground - even when we do not feel it or struggle to see anything good or holy about it.

It may be helpful for us to ask at this point, what helps us tune in?

For me, tuning in happens when I spend time in community with others, talking about things that matter in a radically honest way and letting my guard down, being curious and paying attention. These kinds of conversations feel like prayer. Tuning in for me also looks like taking time away, especially time in nature. It looks like going for walks in our neighborhood. It also looks like a morning habit of making space to read, journal & sometimes meditate. These times away to get in tune prepare me and can prepare us for the holy ground that is beneath our feet everywhere we go:

whether we are stuck in traffic or waiting in the grocery line,

whether we are traveling or teaching or making art,

whether we are taking out the trash or tending to our gardens (or porches) full of plants.

We are invited into a conversation.

We do not have to wait until we master a practice, we can tune in anywhere & anytime.

Because everywhere we are standing is holy ground & ripe for conversation - a thanks, a wow, an “oh Lord please help me now”, a “why am I just noticing this now?”

So let’s take off our shoes. Let’s tune into the conversation so that we can experience more life here - that is the point after all of faith & the message of Jesus - it is all meant to lead us & our neighbors toward more and more life.

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Practice(s) for this week:

Practice taking off your shoes (literally) and walking barefoot - in the grass, in the dirt, on the sidewalk. No agenda, just see what happens. Just be there, paying attention, listening for what might be stirring in & around you.

Be open to seeing all of the places you will walk this week as holy ground. Take this mantra with you:

This is holy ground. I’m taking off my shoes.