August 24, 2025 - Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost: Pause, Reflect, Flow...
August 24, 2025 Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
Ladue Chapel Presbyterian Church
Isaiah 58:9b-14, Luke 13:10-17
“Pause. Reflect. Flow…”
Anne Peacock
I love to pause for a cup of tea, to notice the color of the tea leaves, smell their aroma as they steep, and watch as they unfurl. I’ve learned that the best cups of tea allow the leaves room to breathe, expand, and swim around in the water. If packed too tightly the restricted movement may hinder the leaves from releasing their full flavor; causing a bitter taste. The same thing can happen if we pack too much into our lives and don’t leave room to pause and listen for God’s voice.
The woman in our reading today was bent over with ailments. Like tea leaves packed into an infuser, her bent over body was not allowing her to breathe. She paused though, and listened to hear Jesus teach, and then she heard Jesus calling her. Jesus did not go to the woman. She had to be open to his help. She had to act. She had to move toward him in response to his invitation for healing. She had to want to be healed. We cannot know what is going on in the lives of others – with the person sitting next to you in the pew. They may share their story with us, but we cannot truly understand the depths of their grief, their fears, and their ailments. What did this woman experience that we cannot know from scripture? We don’t know her full story. We may ask why she had to suffer for 18 years and what crippled spirit blocked her from being healed. The woman awakened to a greater sense of possibility and is a witness to God’s miraculous grace. She likely lived the rest of her life inspiring others by sharing her story. Freed from her bondage, her life couldn’t help but to flow into praise.
In his book “The Body Keeps the Score,” Dr. van der Kalk speaks of how our bodies hold on to experiences of trauma. His research demonstrates the amazing healing qualities of movement, rhythm, action, and learning how to breathe calmly. We are called to a practice of movement, rhythm, action, and breathing; a way of contemplative awareness; to wake up and make room for God. As scripture says, “the spirit wants to do what is right, but the body is weak.” Jesus shows us how we may transform our lives by practicing a rhythm of pause and return – a way of life that leads toward spiritual conversion. The Greek word for this is metanoia, but over the years, “metanoia” has been mistranslated, for instance, when John the Baptist and Jesus both tell us to “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” The Gospel writers never intended the Greek word “metanoia” to mean “repent” in the way we understand it today, says Caroline Oakes in her book, “Practice the Pause.” Webster’s definition of repent means to turn from sin and dedicate oneself to the amendment of one's life; to feel regret; to change one's mind, and “metanoia” means “a transformative change of heart; a spiritual conversion.” Jesus and John the Baptist are calling us into a complete change of mind and heart. God’s kingdom is near and available to us all if we cultivate the true meaning of “repent,” our “metanoia,” our continual pausing and returning to an awareness of God.
Jesus’ life was a rhythm of inhaling and exhaling, prayer and action; going to the mountains, the garden, and other desert places to be in silence and solitude with the presence of God, so that he could teach, heal, and do his work in the world. He modeled a way of living and a path of spiritual awakening; practices that help us connect with the Holy Spirit within us; our true self. Like any athlete or musician knows, we must practice, practice, practice. A spiritually grounded practice of pausing, releasing our own will, and returning to the will of God, can deepen our faith and begin to transform our way of being.
As the psalmist says, “Deep calls to deep.” Meister Eckhart, German theologian, said, “There is a place in the soul that neither time, nor space, nor no created thing can touch.” Embodied prayer, meaning physical prayer which moves beyond mental and verbal forms of prayer, can bring us to that place. It might also uncover joy, sorrow, peace, strength, and sometimes nothing. God speaks – we just need to discover how to listen.
When we live our lives tightly packed, it’s difficult to listen, and we make most decisions from a part of our brain that blocks itself from access to deep wisdom, causing us to hold ourselves back from healing and wholeness. Taking the time to pause – release – return; the rhythm of ancient spirituality practices can rewire our brains and reorient our hearts, allowing us, over time, to open to the fullness of who God created us to be. Many people have told me, “I can’t pray in silence – my own thoughts keep getting in the way!” Jesus said we are “worried and distracted by many things.” This is why Jesus calls us to “stay awake” to an awareness of God working in and through us.
I will now share some contemplative practices that may help us stay awake to God.
First, we will practice a moment of centering pause; “just being.” We will sit in stillness, gently release any thoughts, and return to God whenever our mind wanders. I will ring the singing bowl to begin our pause, and it will ring again after one minute.
An intentional centering pause practice can reveal our true essence; allowing the Holy Spirit within us to gradually emerge. Spending regular time “being” cannot help but to flow into “doing.” Jesus healing on the Sabbath is doing what we, as Christians, are called to do all the time – walk alongside those who are suffering, to show the bent over people in our lives how to open to God. When we sit with others who are in need of God’s healing touch, we become Christ’s eyes, ears, and hands helping them to heal.
But what work are we called to do? Often, I pray, “Dear God, what is mine to do?” Gentle prayerful movements such as Qigong, can dissolve what may be blocking us from hearing and seeing God. Qigong is an ancient Chinese practice which invites us into physical and spiritual healing. Qi means energy; the loving movement and flow of life. I call it the Holy Spirit. This Qigong gesture helps us push away what we are not called to do and invites God’s prayer for our lives.
Gesture: Push-Pull Qigong
Thirty years ago, while on staff here, I attended a session retreat at Ladue Chapel. Our leader was Karen Tye from Eden Seminary, and she asked us to find a place to be alone with a specific scripture passage. We could go anywhere in the church and her instructions were for us to strike a pose while reading the passage. I resisted her instructions and didn’t want to do it. But I did. I went to a quiet place in the upper rooms and thought to myself “how silly this seems.” I don’t remember the passage or what pose I took, but I do remember what happened as I read. A prayer flowed from the depths of my soul. Out loud, I repeated over and over, “I need help…I need help…I need help…” This experience taught me a more expansive view of prayer. When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we open ourselves to hearing God’s voice more clearly.
During the pandemic my prayer practice changed. I couldn’t sit in silence as I had done before. Centering prayer changed to prayers of movement such as yoga and Qigong, and because the gym was closed, I began to row. Rowing has become a powerful source of physical and spiritual nourishment for me. When my repetitive movements begin to flow, so do creative thoughts, which I call my “rowing ruminations.” “Zoning out” in a time of deep listening prayer is when I frequently come up with new ministry ideas.
Not all of us row, but this flow can be experienced in many other activities such as writing, playing an instrument, knitting, gardening, and walking. In her book “Wanderlust: A History of Walking,” Rebecca Solnit says, “Thinking is generally thought of as doing nothing in a production-oriented culture and doing nothing is hard to do. Walking itself is the closest rhythmic intentional act to breathing and the beating of the heart. It strikes a delicate balance between working and idling, being and doing… the mind, the body, and the world are aligned, as though they were three characters finally in conversation together, three notes suddenly making a chord.” I would add a fourth note to the chord…God.
Much of God’s work cannot be seen because it is done in the darkness. Darkness is important for the transformation of bulbs, seeds and plants, and darkness is important for all of creation. Inside a chrysalis the caterpillar, unable to move, dissolves. Cells called “imaginal cells,” which have been dormant in the caterpillar, begin to create a new form and structure. At first these newly formed cells are regarded as threats and are attacked by the caterpillar’s immune system, but they persist, multiply, and connect with each other – and the butterfly is born. For transformation to happen, we must allow ourselves to spend time in darkness, practicing gestures of stillness and prayers of deep listening and contemplation.
If you wish, join me in this simple practice called “opening exercise” as we practice deep listening and pray to be open to all that Christ calls us to be. If you prefer, you may simply open and close your hands or just imagine doing these movements. We will then flow into a time of pause and stillness with a guided meditation.
Gesture: Opening Exercise (inhale up…exhale down)
You may wish to close your eyes and breathe deeply. Notice where your body feels tense…maybe your jaw is tight, or your forehead, shoulders, back…breathe into these places. Where are you holding a bent over place within?
Are you holding onto a painful memory?
Listen to your body – listen for whatever comes – maybe an emotion - or a story.
How might God be speaking to you through all of this?
Where might you feel blocked from opening and hearing God’s voice leading you toward healing water?
Imagine as you open and stand up straight how you would praise God.
We will now flow into singing a few repetitions of “Bless the Lord,” printed in your bulletin, and will end with a moment of silence to simply rest in God.
12 When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” 13 When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God.
The more we practice pausing…and being aware; we make room for God and we gently awaken and open our body, mind, and spirit to God's presence every moment. We allow our life to flow with the loving movement of God, and we cannot keep from singing.
May it be so.
Ladue Chapel Presbyterian Church
Isaiah 58:9b-14, Luke 13:10-17
“Pause. Reflect. Flow…”
Anne Peacock
I love to pause for a cup of tea, to notice the color of the tea leaves, smell their aroma as they steep, and watch as they unfurl. I’ve learned that the best cups of tea allow the leaves room to breathe, expand, and swim around in the water. If packed too tightly the restricted movement may hinder the leaves from releasing their full flavor; causing a bitter taste. The same thing can happen if we pack too much into our lives and don’t leave room to pause and listen for God’s voice.
The woman in our reading today was bent over with ailments. Like tea leaves packed into an infuser, her bent over body was not allowing her to breathe. She paused though, and listened to hear Jesus teach, and then she heard Jesus calling her. Jesus did not go to the woman. She had to be open to his help. She had to act. She had to move toward him in response to his invitation for healing. She had to want to be healed. We cannot know what is going on in the lives of others – with the person sitting next to you in the pew. They may share their story with us, but we cannot truly understand the depths of their grief, their fears, and their ailments. What did this woman experience that we cannot know from scripture? We don’t know her full story. We may ask why she had to suffer for 18 years and what crippled spirit blocked her from being healed. The woman awakened to a greater sense of possibility and is a witness to God’s miraculous grace. She likely lived the rest of her life inspiring others by sharing her story. Freed from her bondage, her life couldn’t help but to flow into praise.
In his book “The Body Keeps the Score,” Dr. van der Kalk speaks of how our bodies hold on to experiences of trauma. His research demonstrates the amazing healing qualities of movement, rhythm, action, and learning how to breathe calmly. We are called to a practice of movement, rhythm, action, and breathing; a way of contemplative awareness; to wake up and make room for God. As scripture says, “the spirit wants to do what is right, but the body is weak.” Jesus shows us how we may transform our lives by practicing a rhythm of pause and return – a way of life that leads toward spiritual conversion. The Greek word for this is metanoia, but over the years, “metanoia” has been mistranslated, for instance, when John the Baptist and Jesus both tell us to “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” The Gospel writers never intended the Greek word “metanoia” to mean “repent” in the way we understand it today, says Caroline Oakes in her book, “Practice the Pause.” Webster’s definition of repent means to turn from sin and dedicate oneself to the amendment of one's life; to feel regret; to change one's mind, and “metanoia” means “a transformative change of heart; a spiritual conversion.” Jesus and John the Baptist are calling us into a complete change of mind and heart. God’s kingdom is near and available to us all if we cultivate the true meaning of “repent,” our “metanoia,” our continual pausing and returning to an awareness of God.
Jesus’ life was a rhythm of inhaling and exhaling, prayer and action; going to the mountains, the garden, and other desert places to be in silence and solitude with the presence of God, so that he could teach, heal, and do his work in the world. He modeled a way of living and a path of spiritual awakening; practices that help us connect with the Holy Spirit within us; our true self. Like any athlete or musician knows, we must practice, practice, practice. A spiritually grounded practice of pausing, releasing our own will, and returning to the will of God, can deepen our faith and begin to transform our way of being.
As the psalmist says, “Deep calls to deep.” Meister Eckhart, German theologian, said, “There is a place in the soul that neither time, nor space, nor no created thing can touch.” Embodied prayer, meaning physical prayer which moves beyond mental and verbal forms of prayer, can bring us to that place. It might also uncover joy, sorrow, peace, strength, and sometimes nothing. God speaks – we just need to discover how to listen.
When we live our lives tightly packed, it’s difficult to listen, and we make most decisions from a part of our brain that blocks itself from access to deep wisdom, causing us to hold ourselves back from healing and wholeness. Taking the time to pause – release – return; the rhythm of ancient spirituality practices can rewire our brains and reorient our hearts, allowing us, over time, to open to the fullness of who God created us to be. Many people have told me, “I can’t pray in silence – my own thoughts keep getting in the way!” Jesus said we are “worried and distracted by many things.” This is why Jesus calls us to “stay awake” to an awareness of God working in and through us.
I will now share some contemplative practices that may help us stay awake to God.
First, we will practice a moment of centering pause; “just being.” We will sit in stillness, gently release any thoughts, and return to God whenever our mind wanders. I will ring the singing bowl to begin our pause, and it will ring again after one minute.
An intentional centering pause practice can reveal our true essence; allowing the Holy Spirit within us to gradually emerge. Spending regular time “being” cannot help but to flow into “doing.” Jesus healing on the Sabbath is doing what we, as Christians, are called to do all the time – walk alongside those who are suffering, to show the bent over people in our lives how to open to God. When we sit with others who are in need of God’s healing touch, we become Christ’s eyes, ears, and hands helping them to heal.
But what work are we called to do? Often, I pray, “Dear God, what is mine to do?” Gentle prayerful movements such as Qigong, can dissolve what may be blocking us from hearing and seeing God. Qigong is an ancient Chinese practice which invites us into physical and spiritual healing. Qi means energy; the loving movement and flow of life. I call it the Holy Spirit. This Qigong gesture helps us push away what we are not called to do and invites God’s prayer for our lives.
Gesture: Push-Pull Qigong
Thirty years ago, while on staff here, I attended a session retreat at Ladue Chapel. Our leader was Karen Tye from Eden Seminary, and she asked us to find a place to be alone with a specific scripture passage. We could go anywhere in the church and her instructions were for us to strike a pose while reading the passage. I resisted her instructions and didn’t want to do it. But I did. I went to a quiet place in the upper rooms and thought to myself “how silly this seems.” I don’t remember the passage or what pose I took, but I do remember what happened as I read. A prayer flowed from the depths of my soul. Out loud, I repeated over and over, “I need help…I need help…I need help…” This experience taught me a more expansive view of prayer. When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we open ourselves to hearing God’s voice more clearly.
During the pandemic my prayer practice changed. I couldn’t sit in silence as I had done before. Centering prayer changed to prayers of movement such as yoga and Qigong, and because the gym was closed, I began to row. Rowing has become a powerful source of physical and spiritual nourishment for me. When my repetitive movements begin to flow, so do creative thoughts, which I call my “rowing ruminations.” “Zoning out” in a time of deep listening prayer is when I frequently come up with new ministry ideas.
Not all of us row, but this flow can be experienced in many other activities such as writing, playing an instrument, knitting, gardening, and walking. In her book “Wanderlust: A History of Walking,” Rebecca Solnit says, “Thinking is generally thought of as doing nothing in a production-oriented culture and doing nothing is hard to do. Walking itself is the closest rhythmic intentional act to breathing and the beating of the heart. It strikes a delicate balance between working and idling, being and doing… the mind, the body, and the world are aligned, as though they were three characters finally in conversation together, three notes suddenly making a chord.” I would add a fourth note to the chord…God.
Much of God’s work cannot be seen because it is done in the darkness. Darkness is important for the transformation of bulbs, seeds and plants, and darkness is important for all of creation. Inside a chrysalis the caterpillar, unable to move, dissolves. Cells called “imaginal cells,” which have been dormant in the caterpillar, begin to create a new form and structure. At first these newly formed cells are regarded as threats and are attacked by the caterpillar’s immune system, but they persist, multiply, and connect with each other – and the butterfly is born. For transformation to happen, we must allow ourselves to spend time in darkness, practicing gestures of stillness and prayers of deep listening and contemplation.
If you wish, join me in this simple practice called “opening exercise” as we practice deep listening and pray to be open to all that Christ calls us to be. If you prefer, you may simply open and close your hands or just imagine doing these movements. We will then flow into a time of pause and stillness with a guided meditation.
Gesture: Opening Exercise (inhale up…exhale down)
You may wish to close your eyes and breathe deeply. Notice where your body feels tense…maybe your jaw is tight, or your forehead, shoulders, back…breathe into these places. Where are you holding a bent over place within?
Are you holding onto a painful memory?
Listen to your body – listen for whatever comes – maybe an emotion - or a story.
How might God be speaking to you through all of this?
Where might you feel blocked from opening and hearing God’s voice leading you toward healing water?
Imagine as you open and stand up straight how you would praise God.
We will now flow into singing a few repetitions of “Bless the Lord,” printed in your bulletin, and will end with a moment of silence to simply rest in God.
12 When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” 13 When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God.
The more we practice pausing…and being aware; we make room for God and we gently awaken and open our body, mind, and spirit to God's presence every moment. We allow our life to flow with the loving movement of God, and we cannot keep from singing.
May it be so.
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