At the General Convention of the Episcopal Church in Austin this past summer, Presiding Bishop Michael Curry offered his vision of a Jesus-centered life, which he “packaged” as the Way of Love. It has seven stages – Turn, Learn, Pray, Worship, Bless, Go, and Rest. I don’t think that any wise – or sane – person would say that this is the only recipe for holy living, but I would like to suggest that it is a power strip (a modern metaphor!) into which the parts of our life might be plugged. For the next few months, I will offer you some thoughts on what each stage might mean when viewed through the lens of love. This month – Turn.
To one trained in the language of Christian theology, the immediate association with turning is repentance. The Greek word μετάνοια, which is commonly thought of as the original Christian term for repentance, has this sense of turning or changing.
No doubt, love demands this at times. Those who have been in (or out of!) love will testify to the need to change, apologize, begin again. And, clearly, the way of love that leads to God also requires frequent and honest evaluations of our lives and the sort of prayerful course corrections that keep us headed in the right direction.
But I would like to suggest a couple of additional meanings of turning that may help us see it more clearly in the light of love. The first is turning as motion. Turning implies movement – whatever and whoever turns cannot be still.
In the Bible, God is often imagined as being in motion. The Psalmist sees God “riding on the wings of the wind.” The writer of Job says that God “stretches out the north over the void.” And writer of Amos sees in a vision that God “builds his upper chambers in the heavens and founds his vault upon the earth.” Later theologians, grasping for a way to describe the Trinity, sometimes pictured it as a dance (περιχώρηις, which is best translated as “rotation”!).
Every action and movement of God brings light and matter and spirit into being. Even God’s words have creative power. So one who would love as God loves must also begin with inner and outer movement. We have to look around us to recognize what is lovable and what is in need of love. We have to stir inwardly to find the impulse to love that grows quietly in our hearts. And in our motion we may even cast a pale reflection of the creative movement of God.
The second is a bit more mechanical. Every turn, every curving motion has within it a real or imaginary axis, the still center around which the curve is formed. A wheel turns on an axle. A traffic circle has a middle point that is equally distant from all the roads around it. Whether visible or invisible, the center defines and governs all the curving movement around it.
When we envision turning as the first step in the way of divine love, we are acknowledging that God is the center point around which we live and move and have our being. Having God as our anchor keeps us from veering away from the path when the emotional energy of turning pulls us in many directions. The love of God is strong enough to keep us in His orbit, even when we – or He – may feel very distant.
We often hope that our paths will be straight and uneventful. That may sometimes be what God intends, but perhaps we should be less worried about the twists and turns, knowing, believing, that God is at the heart of them.
Blessings
Howie+
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