A man is running for his life. 

A tiger is hot on his tracks. 

The man suddenly comes up against the edge of a cliff. He looks down and quickly figures there’s enough for him to hold onto to climb and it’s not too, too far to the bottom. He’s got no other choice. He swings his legs over the edge, and starts climbing down. He makes it far enough that when he hears a growl above him, he looks up and sees that the tiger can’t reach him. And it’s too steep for the big cat to climb. 

The man steadily climbs lower. 

He looks down to see how far he’s got left to go. But what meets his eyes, but another tiger down there at the bottom, pacing back and forth, looking up at him and sniffing the air and baring its teeth. 

The man clings to the rocks. He looks up. The first tiger is still at the edge, looking down, biding its time. He looks down, the second tiger circles him below. 

He looks up again. He looks down. Then, the man looks to the side, along the rock face. There he sees growing between the rocks the bright green leaves of a strawberry plant. And there is a strawberry, red and ripe in the sun.

The man reaches out and plucks the berry. He bites into it. 

And he smiles.               

The end. 

That story is from our friends in the Zen Buddhist tradition. 

From our tradition, with its very different style and culture, we heard a beautiful rendition of a beautiful psalm from the Hebrew Scriptures (Psalm 9 version by Nan Merrill, see below). This psalm begins and ends with a whole-hearted, full-throated song to the joy and delight, the gratitude and the glory that the poet experiences in the ways that the divine transcendence of God is present to open hearts. 

The psalm begins with this song of praise. The psalm ends with this song of praise.

And between, the psalm passes through the tiger’s teeth. 

Chaos. Darkness. Violence. Self-destruction. Oppression. 

Through it all the poet finds that God, through divine Love, is present.

My friends, in all things, through all things, let’s remember that each moment can be enough to open to a glimpse of eternity, whatever the circumstance. It helps to slow down, and take a moment and just allow ourselves a little delight with singular attention.

Now, this is not to dismiss what is dire, at all. It is in fact to persist in tending to the spark of life that kindles into resistance against the forces in our world that seek to oppress our spirits. 

Love is a stronghold for the oppressed, 

A foundation in difficult times. 

In some circumstances it’s all one may have. In others it’s a key to unlocking the prison made by the ways one has internalized those forces that would oppress. 

You, Beloved, awakened me from a living death. 

To delight in one moment, in holy glory, does not mean you aren’t free to continue to grieve in the next, as you need. It’s just revealing to you that the grief need not be unceasing. As the psalm says, God participates in our grief, and indeed weeps more broadly and fully than we can understand for the tragedies and follies of humanity. God’s nature runs through all this and beyond all this. That’s part of the meaning of the revelation that came through Jesus. God comes to us in the flesh to show us that God knows and bears all that we suffer, and pours out for us all that is life giving. God gives life so abundantly that it carries us through death into resurrection.

And so, in tough times, we can be open to how God may be present in way that can deliver us from the constrictions of despair. Often times it’s in the small things.

If the strawberry is delicious, then for God’s sake, taste it fully.

That is all. 

A little delight can be an antidote to despair. Just as a little curiosity can be an antidote to anxiety. 

Well, here I am. I wonder what will happen next?

How did it come to be that strawberries are growing from the side of a cliff? And have ripened just in time for me to have climbed to them? 

Ah, what is possible in this world! Praise God!

Now, none of this is naïve. None of this dismisses the fact that the tigers may be circling. This is in fact the quality of mind and heart and faith of those who manage to find ways to survive. To adapt. To improvise. To overcome. This is the way of those who know that God offers a way out of no way. Even if that does indeed lead through death. 

Those who know Love’s Name

Therein place their trust. 

For You, O Beloved, are ever-present

To those who search for You. 

How do we search for what is ever-present? 

What is it like to find and to know? 

In these times when so many folks are troubled, constricted in soul, 

I encourage us all to find little practices of delight. 

Little practices of gratitude. Little practices of glory, of praise. 

That from the depths of my being, 

I may rejoice and give thanks for

Your faithful love.           

Thanks be to God!

(You may view the livestream video recording of the service in which I offer this sermon)

Psalm 9 

(version by Nan Merrill)

Give thanks to the Beloved

With your whole heart;

Tell the story of Love’s way;

Be glad and dance with joy;

Sing praises to the Name above

All names, 

As illusions are dispelled, 

As they fade away before

Love’s face. 

For You, O Beloved, are ever-present, 

Ready to enter open hearts. 

You cry over the nations, seeing

How they destroy one another;

Chaos and darkness rise up

Blind to Love’s way;

Forgotten is creation’s glory, 

False power seeks to destroy

The Divine Plan. 

Yet Love will abide forever; 

You have established yourself 

In secret places

Seek out receptive hearts,

Ready to enter and make your 

dwelling place within. 

Love is a stronghold for the oppressed, 

A foundation in difficult times. 

And those who know Love’s Name

Therein place their trust. 

For You, O Beloved, are ever-present

To those who search for You. 

Sing praises to the One, who is Love, 

Who dwells in your heart!

Tell everyone of Love’s wonder-

Filled deeds!

For those who know compassion

Will remember those in need. 

Be gracious to me, O Beloved!

Behold what I suffer out of fear, 

O You, who awakened me from 

A living death, 

That I might tell of your glory, 

That from the depths of my being, 

I may rejoice and give thanks for

Your faithful love. 

(Image by Natasha Rethke from Pixabay)