Let's talk dirty in Hawaiian...

Ok, it is now 14 days into the groove and we are both FINALLY starting to slow down. Granted, we started this gig in two high powered places:  the East Village, NYC and Nashville, TN. We made our way through a killer rain storm and kept our appointments to experience and discuss with others two very intense jazz liturgy encounters. AND we haven't had alone time in exciting places together in over a year. So, the first two weeks truly felt more like vacation with a bit of work no matter what we told ourselves. It was all good, mind you, just not slow.

We are now in Pittsburgh, PA - after a delightful day off in Cincinnati, OH - and even though we were in the car on and off for two days, a shift has taken place. First, we don't really have any agenda to accomplish here; we're going to stop by the Mary Lou Williams department at the University of Pittsburgh, but we don't have an appointment and that feels GREAT. Second, there is no one we are committed to speak with on this part of the gig - and that too is liberating. Don't get me wrong, I am so very, very grateful for our conversation and learning in Nashville. Joyce and her crew are amazing and were not only gracious to us but very supportive. And, now it feels like quiet time is in order.

I know for me I need to shake off the wild ass energy before I can settle in to a place or a discipline. I hadn't expected to find myself doing that yet again, but it was so in both NYC and Nashville. So in addition to some insightful jazz liturgy experiences - and great days wandering both cities together - we heard some killer music as we opened ourselves to the night life. But last night, after heading out to the Over the Rhine neighborhood in Cincinnati for supper, we just walked around the downtown together and took in the river and the lights. We did much the same thing tonight on our first evening in the town of steel.

We are in an Air BnB apartment in the Mexican Streets area of town - North Central Pittsburgh - that was once the separate city of Allegheny. Our hosts, Frank and Belle, are young parents who have returned to Pittsburgh to raise their small children. Their restored Victorian town house is in a very mixed neighborhood with old timers, young hipsters, artists, families, clubs, parks and everything in-between. It feels very safe and eclectic, a whole lot like the neighborhood we'll be in when we get to Montreal later this month. 

So with NOTHING to do and no commitments to honor, we are finally entering into a groove that is starting to make sense - and feel satisfying. Today I read this insight from Fr. Richard Rohr, a reminder of what is at the heart of this time away, resting in God's love.  I know my fretting is what "unplugs" me from the call to deep rest and deeper trust. It is what disconnects me from experiencing the sacred nature within my broken humanity:

The Orthodox doctrine of theosis, according to John Paul II, is perhaps the greatest gift of the Eastern Church to the West, but one that has largely been ignored or even denied.[1] The Eastern fathers of the Church believed that we could experience real and transformative union with God. This is in fact the supreme goal of human life and the very meaning of salvation--not only later, but now and later. Theosis refers to the shared deification or divinization of creation, particularly with the human soul where it can happen consciously and lovingly.

St. Gregory of Nazianzus (330-390) emphasized that deification does not mean we become God, but that we do objectively participate in God's nature. We are created to share in the life-flow of Trinity. Salvation isn't about replacing our human nature with a fully divine nature, but growing within our very earthiness and embodiedness to live more and more in the ways of love and grace, so that it comes "naturally" to us and is our deepest nature. This does not mean we are humanly or perfectly whole or psychologically unwounded, but it has to do with an objective identity in God that we can always call upon and return to without fail. Some doctrine of divinization is the basis for any reliable hope and any continual growth.

Last night before going to sleep I was reading Amy-Jill Levine's book on the challenge of Christian antisemitism and she referenced one of my favorite quotes.  It made me think back to the early days of my ministry when, as an earnest and somewhat overzealous young man, I loved to talk about Luke 9: 62:  Anyone who puts his/her hand to the plow and looks back is not fit for the kingdom of God.  Oh Lord did I love that passage. I thought I was such hot shit and that I was going to change the world. Or at least my small corner of the church.   What's more, I was certain that I understood who was both fit and unfit for the kingdom. My, my, my...

Let's just say that while I still admire the enthusiasm of that young preacher, I have let go of my attachment to that quote. These days I am much more grounded in Matthew 9 13:  Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy not sacrifice.  So, tomorrow we will walk - and rest - and talk and pray and try to trust the Lord a little more. I'll keep you posted. In the mean time, take a listen to this GREAT song that has had us laughing hysterically since we departed Pittsfield:  John Prine's masterpiece, "Let's Talk Dirty in Hawaiian."