The Freedom to Be Human
“freedom watch,” part 8
I chose a guiding word for 2024—the word freedom. I’m reflecting on the word freedom regularly in the Blue Room, to see how it’s guiding and challenging my life, with hope that these explorations will guide you into greater freedom as well!
Part 1: freedom means accepting difficulty but reducing misery
Part 2: freedom means doing nothing extra
Part 3: freedom means not fighting with reality
Part 4: freedom means less preparation, more presence
Part 5: freedom comes from singing your heart out
Part 6: freedom means trusting the time you have
Part 7: freedom means trusting the moment you’re in
This fall our congregation is engaged in a worship series called “Why Church? Exploring God’s Big Idea.” Each week we look at a different aspect of the church’s “job description” and what God is up to in calling us to this work. Last Sunday, I preached on “Church as a Place for Healing and Compassion”; you can listen to the sermon audio right from this post, or download the manuscript below.
Following the sermon, as you can read/hear, we invited people to come forward to one of four prayer stations. There they could name a person or situation for which they yearned for healing (if they wished), and receive a blessing: an anointing with oil (basically a cross traced on the forehead) and a laying on of hands with prayer (i.e. hands on the person’s shoulder). People were not required to come forward, but most people did. We received good feedback that the service was meaningful, and in some cases, deeply needed.
Anointing with prayer is an ancient practice and comes right out of a service we have in our denomination’s worship book, called the Service for Wholeness and Healing. In contrast to the raucous “BE HEALED!!” spectacles we see portrayed and caricatured in the media, the Service for Wholeness and Healing is reflective, even contemplative. I wanted to give people a taste of that service on Sunday morning, in hopes that we might have them more often.
Many years ago, I served a church that did just that: a quarterly Service for Wholeness and Healing, typically on a Sunday evening. It was usually sparsely attended, but I always felt the people who showed up really needed it.
I remember one service in particular. Caroline, age 9 or so, wanted to come with me. So we hopped in the car for the 25-minute drive to the church. My plan was to be there about thirty minutes ahead of time to get centered and take care of some details.
Caroline and I were chatting about nothing in particular when she looked at the GPS display and commented, “Good job Mommy, you’re going to be right on time.” I asked her what she meant and she said, “The service starts at 7:00, you said so this morning during the announcements.”
I gasped and looked at the destination time on Google Maps:
7:01.
Caroline was right. Somehow I’d gotten mixed up and thought we started at 7:30, not 7:00. We were still at least ten minutes away.
In a panic, I called the church. A man named Dana answered the phone, and I explained the situation, asked him to finish the setup, and told him to have the organist vamp. I arrived to find Dana at the door of the church with a bemused smile and my robe in his hand, holding it out as I dashed into it.
He had set everything up as I asked, of course, but his best gift to me was in that phone call. As I spluttered out my apology, I said, “I am just so…,” not knowing how to finish the sentence. Sorry? Confused how this happened? Grateful he was there to help?
No. I was about to say “…disgusted with myself.”
Perhaps Dana sensed what I was about to say. In any case, he finished my sentence for me.
“I am just so…”
“...Human?”
Even now, this memory brings tears to my eyes. Oh, how often I punish myself for simply being a human being. (Thank God for him, cutting me off before I berated myself in front of my daughter for the terrible horrible crime of… getting confused and being late???)
There’s freedom in embracing simply being human.
There’s freedom in letting go of needing to be more than that.
Here was a man who, I don’t mind telling you, had political opinions very different from my own. I’m confident we canceled each other’s votes. And we went several rounds at many a committee meeting about theology and the church’s role in the world. And yet, everyone who knew Dana said the same: “He’d give you the shirt off his back.” He’s been gone several years now, but he’s my reminder that people are more complicated than the boxes we put them into.
We have a visual reminder of that reality at Trinity with our CommUnity board:
I’ve loved watching it get filled in with the various colored strings that represent different folks’ interests and convictions. I am a dog person. I am a volunteer. I love science. I support gun safety laws. I support gun rights.
On those last two… I wouldn’t be surprised to trace the strings and find a few people wrapping theirs around both of them. I’ve never been interested in guns, but not everything in life has to be an either-or.
That’s not to gloss over profound differences we have—this is not a both-sides post. However, once we’ve demonized and dehumanized, we’ve boxed ourselves in as much as “them.” There’s freedom in letting myself be human, yes, but there’s also freedom in seeing another person’s humanity too. It connects us to one another. As Valarie Kaur, who has a new book out, likes to say, “You are a part of me I do not yet know.”
Steady on.
And here’s the sermon manuscript (scripture text is here):
PS Early voting has begun in Virginia, Minnesota, Illinois, and other places! Get to it!
"“I am just so…”“...Human?” Really enjoyed this, Maryann. Such a great reminder and something that all of us could benefit from--leaning into grace more, just being human. Your prayer service sounds like such a beautiful experience. Contemplative healing is so different from the "When in doubt, cast it out!" services I've attended.
We offered Healing Services at various churches that I served post Air Force and they were well received by those who attended and always a blessing to us.