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At our Sunday Morning Stretch after worship, we did something new for me. We tried our hand at Visio Divina. Visio Divina is a way to connect with by using your eyes in order to see God in new ways. In preparing for the class, I found some negative energy coming from within. I imagined minutes of awkward silence as people struggled with what to say. I gathered 6 images just in case! In reality we only used one, and as people placed their lives next to that image, God spoke to us in profound ways!
The “image” we used was something we see every time we enter our celebration space. It was the window to the right of our cross.
As we reflected upon this window, various thoughts came to our group. One person saw the window as a large tree rising, calling us all to rise and live again. Another saw a cobweb in one of the windows and saw it as a sign of how easily he was pulled away from wonder and beauty in these troubled times. Yet another saw the window as a woman wearing a kimono with her arms stretched out to the world. She shared how Kimonos are often sewn using a similar chevron pattern, and that many of the panels on a kimono are meant to be signs of protection. Could the sacred be telling her that she, too, was protected?
After that first sharing, we were asked to look at the image a second time. This time shedding our “egocentric point of view” and allowing God to speak in new ways. What could this window be saying about our sacred relationships?
As I quieted and turned toward this window a second time, I noticed that there was a reflection in the window. It was a reflection of our sanctuary, and as I thought of our church my heart warmed. But then a second emotion overcame me: one of sadness as I realized that I was on the wrong side of this warmth. The reflected image seemed to be out by the tree calling me to communion and play, and I was stuck on the inside unable to get out there. I felt like a child who wanted to go out and climb that tree and play in that living sanctuary, but who, for some reason, couldn’t break through the barrier. The ache of loneliness pierced my heart.
It was then that I realized that the barrier was me! My adult-self had refused to let my sacred child out to play. I had let work and deadlines and “business” prevent me from climbing a tree with my friend, God. God was knocking on my door and asking me to rediscover what it feels like to be a part of sacred play.
Dear God, thank you for helping me see again, that a relationship with you doesn’t have to be so complicated. I must confess that I have made connecting to you into work and duty and responsibility. Help me to embrace your invitation to join you in sacred play.
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