21 Feb Turning Points
Greetings Westwood Community,
I have always understood Lent as a time of preparation, a time to sit and explore the depths of my inner world. As Howard Thurman notes in his sermon The Sound Of the Genuine (a sermon from which I constantly draw!), Lent is an opportunity to take an inward journey and discover the truth of who we are – who we really are. Thurman writes:
“So the burden of what I have to say to you is, “What is your name—who are you—and can you find a way to hear the sound of the genuine in yourself?” There are so many noises going on inside of you, so many echoes of all sorts, so many internalizing of the rumble and the traffic, the confusions, the disorders by which your environment is peopled that I wonder if you can get still enough—not quiet enough—still enough to hear rumbling up from your unique and essential idiom the sound of the genuine in you. I don’t know if you can. But this is your assignment.”
Learning how to listen for and to the sound of our genuine is our life’s assignment. Sitting in stillness (not necessarily being still) is an essential practice for this inward journey. Stillness gives us time to reflect on the turning point(s) in our lives that have helped shape who we are. In Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, Richard Rohr describes these turning points as a kind of necessary suffering. And while I don’t exactly love this description, my experience is that these turning points are often events where we experience some pain and/or suffering and rather than wallowing in our victimhood, we respond in ways that deepen our spiritual maturity. Only through loss can we learn how to distinguish between what truly matters in life and what is merely superficial ego.
While Lent is an opportunity to reflect on the turning points in our personal spiritual journeys and how might grow to be more Christ-like, I wonder what turning point Jesus experienced that prompted him to be still and listen to the sound of the genuine in himself?
As a Jewish subject of Roman colonial occupation, we can imagine that there were any number of experiences that prompted Jesus to be still and listen so that he might discern his earthly vocation. I am sure his parents told him about the context of his birth and them being forced to become refugees in Egypt due to the murder of innocent Jewish children in Bethlehem. How might this knowledge have impacted Jesus? Might he have struggled with survivors guilt?
Perhaps a turning point came during his life in Nazareth while working with his father? The biblical authors used the Greek word “tekton,” to describe Joseph’s trade, and we translate this word as carpenter, but the word implies more than the tasks and skills we recognize as carpentry. Another way to define this word would be handyman, stonemason, or builder.
Given the economic realities of first-century Nazareth, it is likely that Joseph was a day laborer and Jesus would have been expected to work with his father when he was old enough, around 12 years old. How often might Joseph and Jesus have worked for someone who promised a full day’s wage only to pay them less than they promised because they knew the workers had no recourse? A practice that we know is still all too common today.
I suspect the noise of everyday life caused Jesus to value stillness, to value the time he could reflect on the turning points in his life and listen for the sound of his genuine. My prayer for you this Lenton season is that you will come to know and love who you are. In the process of discovering who you are, you will be able to articulate how the turning points in your life shaped you and prompted you to grow in wisdom and love of God.
Rev. Dr. Christopher Carter