Spiritual Stuff
Isaiah 58:1-12
Isaiah 58:1-12 (NRSV):
1 Shout out; do not hold back!
Lift up your voice like a trumpet!
Announce to my people their rebellion,
to the house of Jacob their sins.
2 Yet day after day they seek me
and delight to know my ways,
as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness
and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;
they ask of me righteous judgments;
they want God on their side.
3 “Why do we fast, but you do not see?
Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?”
Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day
and oppress all your workers.
4 You fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to strike with a wicked fist.
Such fasting as you do today
will not make your voice heard on high.
5 Is such the fast that I choose,
a day to humble oneself?
Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush
and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast,
a day acceptable to the Lord?
6 Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you;
the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
9 Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, “Here I am.”
If you remove the yoke from among you,
the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,
10 if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.
11 The Lord will guide you continually
and satisfy your needs in parched places
and make your bones strong,
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water
whose waters never fail.
12 Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
the restorer of streets to live in.
This sermon has two parts to it. Part 1 we’ll call “How To Do Spiritual Stuff.” Part 2 is relatively short and we’ll call it: “The Outcomes of Doing Spiritual Stuff.”
For those who care about Lent, which began last Wednesday, Lent is a liturgical, church-y season of repentance and preparation, before Easter. Lent is not traditionally important to Quakers, not because we don’t believe in changing our habits, as needed, but more because Quakers have some reservations about “special things.” There are no special sacraments like wafer-and-wine communion because all of life is sacramental. There are no special holidays because every day is holy, although we do kind of make a fuss about holidays around here. There are no special people because every person is worthy of reverence. I mean you are all special, to me, but no person ought to be seen as fundamentally more important, and no person seen as expendable. In the same way, we don’t need a 40-day season to be extra spiritual–just be spiritual always!
Now let me demystify that word “spiritual” a bit. “Spiritual” like the word “God” is a spacious word, and that’s a good thing. When I use the word “spirituality” I’m thinking about the ways we experience and practice and live our connection with our God and with others who share this connection with God. For me, God is Love. In this community, we have many different understandings of God, from the theists in the room who think of God as Divine Being to the atheists in the room who think no such Being exists, to those who find the words “theist” and “atheist” too limiting and binary to possibly capture your spirituality and sense of the Divine.
But while we might not agree on what to call “God,” if anything–I do think we rally around Love, and practice a faith centered on Love, even if we don’t fully have the Holy Mystery that is Love entirely figured out yet. I also think we, as a community, listen to Christ–and each other–to learn what that Love could look like, and utilize Quaker practices, like silence, communal discernment, and peacemaking action, to discover and direct that Love. But our primary commitment is to Love. That’s not to prescribe anything, for any individual, here, that’s just my sense of this meeting, this community.
So what I mean by “spiritual practices,” really, is: “practices of Love.” Practices that nurture Love within us or tangibly express that Love. And there are so many kinds of spiritual practices we could do.
Some of those practices might include giving up something and some of those practices might mean starting something. What spiritual practices, practices that nurture or express your Love do you do, could you do, or could you deepen?
I’m sure you could come up with a lot of ideas, but let’s use this scripture to spark some creative reflection. This text is about spiritual practices, coming from a section of Isaiah referred to by scholars as “Third Isaiah” and thus likely written after the exile, when national, communal restoration has already begun. I think that context matters because there is a sense of new beginnings here, a community trying to establish some new moral-relational-social habits and break some old ones, or at least not let the habits that may have gotten them into their societal mess, come back.
So what does this text say about how to do spiritual stuff? Here are ten things I notice, with pictures of some of my favorite wildflowers, included for reasons you can decide.
Shout! (v 1).
Shout! Announce to people their rebellion! Don’t hold back! Is it helpful to shout? If my kid carelessly runs into the street and a car is coming toward them, it probably isn’t in their or my best interest to to say, gently, “hey kiddo, I just kind of wanted to open up a dialogue about your choice to have run into the road just now, and just speak from my experience as one who, knows what it’s like to run into the road…” NO! I’m not gonna “wonder aloud” with my child with gentle soothing tones! I’m going to say “get out of the road!” or run out into the road myself and yell at the incoming car to “stop!”
If you’re having a good faith dialogue with someone and shouting means you’ve lost curiosity, respect, and empathy, then maybe shouting is problematic. If you’re always shouting, and never listening–probably not ideal. If you’re trying to warn someone, to awaken them to action, to cut through their self-deception and denial, then maybe there comes a time to shout and not hold back. Nobody likes to be seen as judgy, but being judgmental is not always the same as telling someone what you notice, emphatically.
Sometimes Love requires a whisper, a still small voice, a spacious question–the truth told slant, as Emily Dickinson put it. But sometimes Love demands a shout.
2. Have integrity (v 2).
God, via Isaiah, calls out self-deception. God has asked not for religious devotion or enthusiasm, but the practice of righteousness, the work of making things right in the world. “As if they were a nation that practiced righteousness” God might say with consternation, noticing the beginnings of a migraine.
Integrity invites alignment between who we say we are and what we live. This might require, with so much self-compassion and gentleness, bravely asking ourselves some, frank, tough questions. Not because we’re bad, and need a self-scolding, but because we’re good, and may just need a nudge.
Doing a regular inventory could be a useful spiritual practice for some of us. The truth about all of us is that we’re doing good things and have room to grow. So maybe, give yourself nine compliments and one suggested area for growth, or whatever feedback ratio you need to challenge yourself without being too hard on yourself. Love invites being honest with ourselves and others about what is really there.
3. Be curious (v 2).
These people want God on their side, assured that this is how it works: that God has favorites, and it's them, or that the point of “God” is to validate what you already think and want. I don’t hear exploration, searching, listening, learning. I hear people judging others, thinking they’ve got the whole story.
What if there is more to the story? What if others’ stories reveal something good and true? Is God a zero-sum game, only so much God to go around? What if there’s a lot of God to go around? In fact, what if God is on every person’s side? I don’t mean to say God is on the side of fascism, or racism, or whatever. I mean to say that God is on the side of every person, regardless of what forces they’re caught up in.
What would it look like to practice a little more curiosity about who people are? I’m not saying “go befriend someone likely to harm you” and ask them their kids’ names or what they like to cook or their saddest memory, though maybe that’s your calling.
Maybe all you need is to look around to those you already cherish, and ask some good questions, with a readiness to learn, adapt, and even be surprised. Curiosity may be one of the best tools in our Love toolbelt, because curiosity unlocks and opens doors.
4. Get Over Yourself (v 3).
“Why do we fast, but you do not see?” the people say. God says, in reply, “because you’re missing the point. You are an important participant in an important whole, but you’ve forgotten about the whole.” Lent, as a liturgical season, is a time of doing some real, personal work–of making changes that benefit others. Someone who gives up sugar (a measurable goal) or procrastination (slightly less measurable but important) but continues their relational patterns of being self-centered, or their economic patterns of making money no matter who it hurts, is missing the point.
What would it look like to take a little more interest in others? Maybe we could each find a person or two every day and figure out what they need, through intuition or research or just asking directly. Or maybe we practice asking one good question a day that expands the scope of our concern. “I’m glad I’m warm enough. Are others warm enough?” “This coffee is saving my life today! But did the production of this coffee hurt anyone?” “It is so nice that I was heard today, but who am I not hearing, and why not?” Love takes us beyond ourselves. You matter. It’s just that others matter, too.
5. Reduce Harm (v 3).
You can be the primary oppressor of someone, and you can be part of a world where oppression is just built into our system, such that it’s difficult to avoid being complicit. I am grateful for the late political philosopher Iris Marion Young and her delineation of what she calls the five “faces” of oppression; and I think we can see some if not all of these in today’s text: exploitation (unfairly benefiting from others’ labor); marginalization (dismissing or ignoring people and their contributions); powerlessness (where people are denied space to define or assert themselves); cultural imperialism (where the collective voices of the oppressed are not heard, silenced by the dominant culture); and violence (systemic victimization or ongoing vulnerability to be violated).*
* Iris Marion Young, Justice and the Politics of Difference, 48-63.
How do you and I directly or complicity exploit, marginalize, disempower, culturally impose upon, or violate others? A great practice would be to not do those things. Or, to do the opposite: honor people’s labor, elevate people and their contributions, share or relinquish power, listen to historically ignored voices, and reduce harm in the world. Love means repenting from these five modes of oppression, and cultivating alternative ways of treating others, in their place, individually and systemically.
6. Be non-violent (v 4).
Don’t, during the week, commit physical, verbal, sexual, emotional violence, or champion policies and leaders who do, and then go to church on Sunday to be spiritual, as if what you said and did during the week isn’t also indicative of your spirituality.
“Quarrels and fights.” This is not an invitation to avoidance. Some heated arguments arise because people are trying to love their neighbor. We know that people “fighting for their rights” aren’t necessarily using literal weapons to terminate their enemies, but are pursuing a goal that takes persistence and bravery and other personal resources that will sustain them in their fight, their struggle, for justice and peace. Never having an argument is not a good goal. Am I harming you to tell you that you might be harming someone else? Hurting your ego, maybe, but that might not be a bad thing.
Where is violence happening around you? Is there something simple you could do to play your part in stopping that violence? Despite those who say that God is Love and yet also quite violent, when needed, I don’t believe Love and violence pair well, at all.
7. Get your hands dirty (v 5).
There is a place for solitude, meditation, grief, and deep self-reflection. All of these are useful Love practices. Humility can be good. But this text invites people out of isolation and into participation. As if God is saying “Stop beating yourself up, stop asking God for forgiveness, and start seeking clarity about where your Love is most needed!”
Quakers recognize both our own direct connection to the Divine but also our connection to others and to the Earth, through whom the Divine also speaks and ministers.
You can’t heal the world or your relationships by retreating in shame and self-flagellation. Repentance is more than “sorry” or self-disparagement. It’s getting out there, where the need is great, and doing something to repair relationships, or nature.
Isaiah’s God might say “you can start the day in your cozy prayer closet, just make sure you end the day, in the mud, with others, getting your hands dirty.” How might you, as an act of Love, get your hands dirty, and spend a little time in the mud?
8. Break yokes (v. 6)
There’s an egg joke in there somewhere, but I can’t find it. My mind’s a little too…scrambled.
This is the fast God chooses, this is how to do spirituality: loose the bonds of injustice, liberate the oppressed, break the burdensome yokes.
There’s a lot of possibilities in there, for us. I know we think systemically and personally, when it comes to Love. Both, what part can we play in setting people free from what terrorizes and crushes, whether bombs, or patriarchy, or white Christian nationalism, or heteronormativity, or fossil fuels, among other examples? And also: what can I do to make my sick friend’s experience of being sick a little more manageable? Who needs a call or a text, who needs a little comfort food brought to them?
Is there some tiny and regular gesture you can make toward a friend, as a Lenten practice of Love that eases their burden? Is there something you can do to address those larger systemic evils? How can you liberate people from a crushing system, but also challenge the system–break the yoke–so that the pattern stops?
9. Nourish bodies (v. 7).
No matter what awful words are spoken by our attorney general or your high school classmate, people still need food, housing, and clothing. Jesus, in his famous “sheep and goats” parable, doesn’t make up those “works of mercy”; it is an enduring part of his faith tradition to feed the hungry, welcome strangers, clothe the naked, and so on.
Yes, of course, there are systemic issues at work that, if addressed, would make it easier for people to have food, find housing, and have clean, affordable, and ethically produced clothes. Those need our attention, and I see how a lot of you are learning a ton about social change and how to make it happen.
But until the world drastically changes—and even after!—direct care is needed. What small and simple thing can we do, in the coming weeks, to make sure someone gets food? Or sleep comfortably? Or get their laundry done? We have a system at CFC for meeting some of these needs, and the needs aren’t going anywhere, any time soon.
10. Be truly you (especially with family) (v. 7).
The verse says to not “hide yourself from your own kin.” Maybe this just means we should not, in the doing of good things, neglect our family, when they need us. But I also hear a call to authenticity. I had a conversation about parenting with one of you this week, and about “owning our responsibility” with our kids, being hesitant to say “here’s what you could have done better” without also saying “and here’s what I could have done better.” It’s good for our kids to see the whole picture of who we are.
Maybe others of you hear a call to authenticity with siblings or parents or other relatives. Maybe you’ve tried authenticity, showing them who you really are, and it hasn’t gone well. Maybe you haven’t tried that yet, and it’s worth a shot. I know some people have to hide parts of themselves out of “self-protection” or “survival” and that stinks and is not really what I’m talking about.
What would it look like for you, as an act of Love, to not hide from your family? To be fully you, with them, or in some cases, apart from them? Setting a relational boundary with your family is not “hiding” from them, it’s being authentic about what you need or don’t need in this season, rather than hiding and putting up with something that’s tearing you apart, and not letting you be you. The world needs…you.
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So those are ten ways we could practice Love, i.e., do spiritual stuff. But then, what happens when you do spiritual stuff? Well, a lot of good things could happen…
Your light, our light shall break forth like the dawn
Your healing, our healing, shall spring up quickly
There will be vindication, things made right
Love, the most glorious thing, will protect you and keep you safe
You’ll live in a world where you’ll call for help, and someone will help
Your gloom will be a painful memory but not a present reality, replaced by joy
Your needs will be satisfied
Your bones will be strong
You’ll be nourished like a watered garden, become dynamic like a spring of water
What was destroyed shall be rebuilt, in a new way, with new hands, and not just things that were yours, but things you or your ancestors destroyed that belonged to others; reparation
You’ll make choices that consider the well-being of many generations to come, thinking, as indigenous people do, seven generations ahead; sustainability
The breach, the divide, the fractures in communities and nations, will be repaired; reconciliation
Streets will be inhabitable, safe, no one will have to fear leaving their homes, or not having a home to leave in the first place; restoration
Ya’ll that sounds incredible! What a great list of things that happen when you do spiritual stuff! These are some great outcomes that could result from people leaning into Love, one spiritual practice at a time.
Queries:
What regular practices of Love are present in your life?
What Love practices might you take up, to nurture and express the Love within?
A lot of possibilities, as this one ancient scripture shows us. I’ll let you sit with these queries, and share some of what I’ve said today, for reference, but don’t let these ideas limit the possibilities of what you are being led to practice, with Love.