Stretch Out Your Hand:
A Vision of the Impossible
November 15, 2020 • 24th Sunday after Pentecost
Reading: Matthew 21:1-11
Pastor Alexis Waggoner
Consider what came to mind as the passage was read. Where were you in the story? Were you able to "stretch out your hand" and access your own vision for what needs healing?
This exercise was inspired by a similar meditation I did in a retreat recently. As I put myself in the story, I found myself saying -- ok, I can "stretch out my hand," I can lift up things in my life that need healing... but I don't actually believe much will happen. Then it came to me that this tendency... to sort of modulate my expectation... THIS is what I need healing from! I need to not only SAY I believe this... but also begin to imagine a different way. To imagine that accessing those highs, that hope, that healing... is possible.
Today, I hope we can use this story to allow our divine imagination to run wild.
First, I think it needs to be said: It's not about a magic formula we can plug in to change things whenever and however we want. And then, if we don't get the "result" we want, it's a commentary on the strength of our faith or trust. That's not what this story is saying.
And to help us get at what I think the story IS saying, I want to read it as part of a bigger picture -- as not only being about the act of healing that took place. The framework Jesus offers as he heals this person -- that he offers to both the religious elite who are challenging him, and also the person who is healed... it uses the flourishing of creation as a standard for action.
Jesus is clearly curious about what is possible when we are concerned with the movement of the spirit -- and not getting hung up on the literalism of the law. It's this possibility that is given much more air time in this story than the healing itself. It's almost as if the "result" of the miracle isn't the only point.
Jesus is struggling to get the system to see what is possible - or rather, impossibly possible - when you shift the frame toward doing good.
So, what is possible? What are you being invited to "stretch out your hand" toward? To offer up for healing? To imagine can truly be so. I've talked about imagination a few times already today. And this is something that is difficult for me, to really let my imagination go. And I suspect it's the same for some of us "grown ups" -- difficult to have imagination at our finger tips.
We get to call on our imagination when we live in Jesus' framing of the world -- which is maybe why living in this framing can also be difficult. It can be hard to access the tools needed to imagine the world we want to see, to consider what we say we believe is possible... is actually possible.
So this is your invitation to practice -- to practice imagining the impossibly possible. Maybe it's a vision of healing that came up during the scripture reading -- what you felt called to "stretch out your hand" toward. Maybe it's to really pause and consider what "on earth as it is in heaven" would and could look like. It could be something you imagine for you, personally. Or something that is a hope for our collective healing as we navigate these next two months and beyond.
What does your divine imagination want to run wild with?
This is also your opportunity to engage your creativity as you'd like -- write, draw, create, use whatever supplies you brought or that you have on hand. Consider how you can train your brain AND body, your spiritual self, to create beyond your usual limits.
SLIDE: What does your divine imagination want to run wild with? what images of hope,
or healing, or possibility are calling to you?
REFLECTION TIME (about 2 minutes)
Now that we've engaged some of that imagination, and envisioned hope and healing... I also want to name what I think can keep us from imagining in the first place... why it can become difficult for us.
The unknown!
We think of the worst that can happen, and determine that our vision of healing is just... Impossible. I live here a LOT. I think it keeps me from feeling too disappointed or hurt or vulnerable... but it also keeps me from experiencing the highs and joys available. Brene Brown calls this "dress rehearsing tragedy." We THINK we are preparing and protecting ourselves, but when the lows do come, we couldn't have perfectly predicted what they would be.
And in the meantime, we are stealing from ourselves the gift of being present to our experiences, the joy that is possible even in the unknown.
Of course we don't know what was going on the mind of the person who was healed. Or the mind of the author of Matthew. But I like to think that Jesus' request and their response happened just as quickly as the story lays it out. That this person is an example of a present, whole-hearted response to Jesus' invitation toward healing, and prioritizing goodness, and the needs of people.
So... yes... when we imagine what is impossibly possible, when we envision healing... how that all plays out is unknown. But just like I’m not sure the "result" -- that the person's hand was healed -- was the only point in our story... I don't think it's the only point for us either.
I want for myself, and all of us, to live in the place Jesus creates for us in this invitation. A place of prioritizing goodness, envisioning what is possible, responding from being present to the Spirit -- pushing back against those who say it's not possible or important. There is healing, and divine imagination, and divine impossibility in THIS practice too. In finding a place where we aren't trying to modulate our hope and our joys by dress-rehearsing tragedy -- even though those unknowns may be and feel all too real.
Jesus calls us to believe the impossibly possible, right in the face of evidence to the contrary. Not to deny the pain of our reality, but quite the opposite. To look it in the eyes and offer ourselves this hope, this divine imagination... and find a different way to engage it. This is admittedly a lot to hold together, and I'm honestly not really going to try to tie it up neatly with a plan of action. The danger in that, I think, is to veer into the "letter of the law" checklist framework.
Instead, I invite us now to turn our hearts toward the table -- a place that is big enough to contain the highs and lows of the impossibly possible.
(c) 2020 Alexis Waggoner
All rights reserved.
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