Under the mud

Proper 12 A 2014
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp12_RCL.html


The deepest truth is the one most hidden.

Martin Smith tells the story of how he went to search for an ancient well. He was a theology student in England, and one day he learned that in the Middle Ages there was a holy well outside of the old town where the seminary was located. Like so many of the ancient holy sites the chapel and other buildings at the well were destroyed during the Reformation. The site of the well was neglected and eventually forgotten except in local legend and some historical references.

One Sunday afternoon Martin got a bicycle and, armed with some amateur research as to where to look, set out for the rural area where he thought the holy well was sited. He found himself walking in the midst of a cow pasture, with nothing in sight except grass and weeds and cows and cow pies.

Martin kept walking, although he had no real idea where he was going.

In a low place in the pasture, Martin suddenly sank up to his ankles in mud. Using his hands, Martin dug away the mud and grass. Suddenly his fingertips scraped on stone. Over the course of a couple of hours Martin uncovered a small plaza of rough paving stones surrounding the holy well, still silently providing life-giving water underneath the mud and weeds and cow manure, still waiting to be found.

The most precious gifts lie hidden in plain sight.

Solomon’s famous wisdom is found completely in the simple prayer we heard today: “Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil; for who can govern this your great people?" In other words, give me wisdom. In the Hebrew Scriptures wisdom is not simply knowledge as we understand it. Wisdom is a living being, the “Hochma”, feminine and dynamic and creative, present with God at the beginning of all things.

Later, she was known as “Sophia”, “Holy Wisdom” through whom and with whom God continually redeems the chosen people.

In the New Testament she is the Holy Spirit, the breath, the life and depth of God. The Spirit raises Jesus from the dead, and is given to each of us baptized as a sign and seal and promise of glory.

Like Martin Smith’s well, Spirit is the hidden life of God. She hides in plain sight. She hides in our own depths. She is always at prayer within us.

A contemporary monk was asked how it was that he seemed to possess the gift of continuous prayer that St. Paul speaks of several times. His answer also spoke of wells: “I think that prayer was always inside of me, like a spring covered with a stone. Then Jesus came and took away the stone. Prayer has been welling up ever since.”

This is our most precious gift, God-with-us, God-within. When we hunger for prayer and wonder why we cannot pray, the answer is closer to us than our own breath. Spirit is sighing too deep for words within us. God in Christ declares us God’s own. God is for us. God’s gift is given free of charge. Any attempts we make to pray, either alone or gathered here, are simply focused moments when we ask God to take away whatever stone, or mud or weeds or cow manure, that may be obscuring the gift of prayer within us. In the end, it is disarmingly simple, it is so close we have trouble focusing our restless wandering eyes. Small as a seed, humble as yeast, but the treasure hidden in the field. I wonder if the merchant in Jesus’ parable found his treasure under mud and weeds and cow manure?

So often in church we talk about the church, we talk about our experience, we talk about the relationships, we talk about the building and the money and the tasks to be done.

How often do we talk about this: Wisdom given lavishly if we ask, Spirit praying always within us?

Perhaps if we speak about this hidden treasure, this deepest truth, all else will be given as well.