Just when you thought the answers were simple

The semester winds down. I am surrounded by students stressed out with papers and end-of-semester assignments that they need to do.

I presented a dance study of Hildegard of Bingen, a eleventh century Catholic nun and prophetess, in "Dance of the Women’s Spirit" with two other students today and it was well received. The choreography was triangular, circular, and representative of Hildegard’s “greening” theology of life. Our class audience expressed joy in watching the three-minute, 11-second dance. I was pleased with my direction of the choreography, a tribute to Karen MacIntyre, who I have watched dance for some 16 years.

The weekly Starr King worship service today was about hope, strength and experience. It seemed aimed to hold up individual student journeys, in case any of us had any end-of-semester doubts about what we are doing in seminary.

A subgroup of my Bibliodrama class presented a liturgy this evening on the biblical passage of Mary, mother of God, receiving the news that she would become pregnant by the Holy Spirit and give birth to a king. The service explored her different reactions: what would Joseph think?; she was about to be married, could she not be spared of the embarrassment of being a unwed mother if a few months passed before she became pregnant with God’s child? Didn’t she have any say in the matter?

The questioning as part of the service asked when we have said “yes” to God? When have we kept our faith in spite of God’s abandonment? When did we received our calling to be a messenger of God, not unlike the angel Gabriel?

I was quiet during the service and during the liturgy review. I did not want to add my voice of confusion to the mix. I did not want to say that sometimes it is complicated and that I am unable tell whether I am saying “yes,” or “no” to the spiritual questions that are being asked of me.

Perhaps the Starr King service was prophetic when it encouraged students to have faith that sometimes one breath will simply lead to another.

It’s hard to resist the headlong tumble into the next moment or the idea that we actually know where we are going.