Let Go

Earlier this week I was reading Robert Alter's translation of Psalm 46, and was struck by his alternative version of verse 11, which begins "Let go, and know that I am God."  This was a surprise. I know that verse which begins in the Book of Common Prayer with "Be Still." However, this time it is prefaced by the command "Let go."

I use Robert Alter's The Book of Psalms because of the cadence of the translation and his extensive commentary.  Reflecting on the verse, Alter notes that the Hebrew verb used literally would translate to "relax one's grip on something. . . to unclench the warriors fist."  As I read those words, I could feel them sink into me.  The common thread of my life at this time is how I need to practice letting go, relaxing my grip on things.

Much of my learning in Clinical Pastoral Education has a foundation in the ongoing need to let go.  In order to be extend an open hand in ministry, to extend vulnerability by coming alongside, I must unclench my hand and let go of behaviors and feelings that become barriers.  I am learning to recognize when I hide behind particular habits or attitudes.  I am breaking out of those shells that block my growth and limit my freedom to be with others in their time of struggle and need.

Later in his commentary, Alter comments that "The eschatologically triumphant God speaks directly, declaring His supremacy over all the world."  I struggle to remember through my letting go I am opening up to the possibilities and demands of God, opening to the Holy Spirit so that it can move through me as compassion and healing for those broken in body, mind or spirit.

It can be very scary letting go, going against all instincts of self-preservation.  Yet, as my first spiritual director would often remind me, "scared" and "sacred" are the same word with just two letters in reversed.   

Two Josephs

Janie has collected hundreds of nativity scenes from across the world, but there was a special one that she wanted us to see. 

A number of years ago a friend who imported handcrafts from around the world called her in despair.  A nativity set had arrived that did not have a Mary, but had two Josephs instead.  Our friend quickly said she would be happy to buy it, and had set it up for many years in her home. 

Upon seeing it in their living room, I impulsively told Janie I wanted her to put my name on it if she ever decided to give it away.  So, a few weeks ago, she asked me to walk with her out to her car after church, and presented the set to me.  I don't know what the original craftsman would think about it, but it gives me great joy!