8/15/21 “Rhythms of Faith” by Nancy E. Petty

Ephesians 5:15-20

I am always amazed when I visit with Roger Crook, who will be one-hundred on October 5, or Robert McMillan, who will be ninety-eight this coming week, how at some point during our conversation they will begin quoting poetry from memory. And not short poems, but long verse poems. This was true with other Pullen elders who have now departed us. People like Sally Buckner, Lou Rosser and Bonnie Stone. Something in our conversation would remind them of the poet’s words that had shaped their lives and gave rhythm to the ebb and flow of life.

When I was in college, I was great with memorization. But like all things, when not practiced regularly, one can lose the skill. There are, however, three poems that have stuck in my memory; parts of which I can recite by memory when not standing in front of people. The first is the Edwin Markham poem that is often quoted here at Pullen.

He drew a circle that shut me out-

Heretic, rebel, and thing to flout.

But love and I had the wit to win:

We drew a circle that took him in!

The second poem is an Emily Dickinson poem that former Pullen pastor, Bill Finlator, would always quote at the end of our visists.

I’m Nobody? Who are you?

Are you – Nobody – too?

Then there’s a pair of us!

Don’t tell! They’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!

How public – like a Frog – 

To tell one’s name – the livelong June – 

To an admiring Bog!

The third poem is one that Mahan Siler introduced to us in a sermon: The Way It Is by William Stafford.

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among

Things that change. But it doesn’t change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about the thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can’t get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt

or die; and you suffer and get old.

Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.

You don’t ever let go of the thread.

In each of these poems, there is a line, or thought that has and is giving a rhythm to how I want to live my life. But love and I had the wit to win/We drew a circle that took him in. Or the line in Dickinson’s poem, “Then there’s a pair of us!” that represents my philosophical and theological belief that our lives are grounded in relationship. And with the Stafford poem those first two lines and then the last: There’s a thread you follow/It goes among things that change/But it doesn’t change…You don’t ever let go of the thread. These lines affirm my faith: the thread of justice-love. It is the rhythm I want to live out in my life. You don’t ever let go of the thread.

Unlike with Larry Schultz, rhythm is not a word in my everyday vocabulary. I like the word, but honestly, for such a simple word I seem to always misspell it. The word “rhythm” is defined as: “a strong, regular, repeated pattern of movement or sound.” Now most often, when we think of rhythm we think of music. We say, “Oh, she’s got rhythm.” Here in our sanctuary that means she can sing, clap and sway all at the same time. Or we might say, “Wow, he has rhythm on the dance floor.” meaning his body moves with the music in perfect timing. I married a woman who has rhythm. A former dancer, and one who can pick up the rhythm of any song, Karla has rhythm. Me, not so much. I’m awful on the dance floor and the singing, clapping, swaying all at the same time melts me into a puddle of embarrassment. (But I give it my best when Larry asks us to.)

As I have already alluded to, rhythm doesn’t just apply to music and dancing. There is a rhythm to life. In the rhythm of life, there are ebbs and flows: if you will, crescendo’s and (duh-min-u-endo’s) diminuendo’s. There are starts and stops and rests. Life’s rhythm, like the rhythm of music, goes through stages and steps; fits and starts. There are different patterns and paces to the rhythm of life. And so it is with the rhythm of a life of faith.

Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, speaks about a rhythm of faith – not in those words. Listen again to Eugene Peterson’s version of Ephesians 5:15-20 from The Message Bible.

11-16 Don’t waste your time on useless work, mere busywork, the barren pursuits of darkness. Expose these things for the sham they are. It’s a scandal when people waste their lives on things they must do in the darkness where no one will see. Rip the cover off those frauds and see how attractive they look in the light of Christ.

Wake up from your sleep,
Climb out of your coffins;
Christ will show you the light!

So watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times!

17 Don’t live carelessly, unthinkingly. Make sure you understand what the Master wants.

18-20 Don’t drink too much wine. That cheapens your life. Drink the Spirit of God, huge drafts of him. Sing hymns instead of drinking songs! Sing songs from your heart to Christ. Sing praises over everything, any excuse for a song to God in the name of Jesus Christ.

The rhythms of faith that Paul describes is a strong pattern of movement toward purpose, authenticity, light, being fully awake, and thoughtful. These are the vibrations of faith. They are the notes that make our bodies sing songs of the soul and heart. They rise and fall with our unique experiences. How we live out these notes of meaningful purpose, authenticity, light, awaken-ness and thoughtfulness are as unique as our voices that sing them. The beauty of the rhythms of faith is that we each have a unique song to sing, and particular sound to express when it comes to purpose, being our true selves, shining our light. It is that “thread you follow” the poem describes. It goes among things that change. But it doesn’t change. You don’t ever let go of your purpose, your light, your true self. You don’t ever let go of your notes, your vibrations, your melody, your song even when things all around you are changing.

Paul tells us that when we follow the rhythms of faith – meaningful purpose, authenticity, light, being awake, thoughtfulness – we make a melody to the Lord in our hearts at all times. At Pullen we are quite adept at making melody with our words and speech. But the rhythms of faith must be embodied. The embodiment of the rhythm is so important. We know that words sung can move us and open our hearts in ways that written or spoken words can’t. A sequence of musical notes can awaken our hearts and flood us with memories of tenderness or joy. Add to that words and you have the engagement of our minds, which brings attention, intention and meaning. But our bodies are critical to music and rhythm! Our ears register sound by tiny movements inside the eardrum. Our voices create sound through movement and vibration. And when we sway or dance, march, clap, protest we bring the fullness of our bodies in, making rhythm a three-centered head, heart and body event. This is why, when, I hear that familiar hymn I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses…I hear my grandmother’s voice and I am flooded with memories of her. But it is not just the memories that I hold in my mind, it is how I can still feel her body next to my body as I sat beside her on the piano bench watching her fingers slide across the keys playing that hymn on her out-of-tune piano and singing with all her heart: “And he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own; and the joy we share, as we tarry there, none other has ever known.” I can feel her breath as she makes melody. And in my heart and body, I can feel her love.

To embody our faith – to rhythm our faith – is what Paul means when he says “make melody with your hearts” – the part of our body that sustains all other parts. How do we take the words of Edwin Markham and Emily Dickinson and William Stafford and make them the melodies of our lives? How do we take the words of our faith and make them the melodies of our hearts? We’ve been doing it for generations.

We sing as we march and we embody our faith:

We shall not, we shall not be moved.

We shall not, we shall not be moved.

Just like a tree, planted by the water,

We shall not be moved.

Or those times, when we physically link arms with others whether in a sanctuary or on Jones St and sing together:

We shall overcome, we shall overcome, we shall overcome

Some day. Deep in my heart, I do believe, we shall overcome some day.

For the last 20 years, Larry Schultz has been helping us do this work. To take the words of our faith and make them the melodies of our lives and heart. Today, we celebrate and give thanks for his ministry with us – the ministry of singing the psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, making melody to God with our hearts – with our whole bodies and lives.

Larry, as you continue to do this work – your ministry – Hold Fast to Dreams.