Posture Of The Heart

This past Sunday, we all worshipped online. One of the silver linings of the pandemic was the way many congregations were forced to be innovative and to respond to their new reality with ingenuity. Not that online worship was nonexistent - it wasn’t. Many congregations held services online. But many more churches lacked an online presence because these congregations, including Christ Church, didn’t have the resources to maintain one.

I remember asking Chris, our Communications Admin, to inquire about online worship for Christ Church. After extensive research, the cost proved prohibitive, so we abandoned the project. But when COVID forced us into a corner, we were able to improvise and slowly build on each successive step, until we now broadcast our services online on four different platforms. This is a remarkable feat made possible by his tireless efforts.

In prior years, we may have simply cancelled worship due to inclement weather and stayed home until the following Sunday. But this Sunday was different; we were able to gather to worship, not in fear but with a kind of faith that surpasses any obstacle that might come our way.

It is that same faith that informs, shapes, and determines the posture of the heart. So that we are not impeded by fear, but we flourish because of faith.

Listening to Jonathan Smith's sermon and watching the emotional outbreak, I remember saying to myself, "What would have happened if we were in the sanctuary?" There’s no doubt that we can feel an emotional connection online, and I am thankful that we not only felt the vulnerability of our own selves, but we resonated with the message. This is because we believe that, even though we come in different political colors, we can instinctively tell when we reach the breaking point. And there is no doubt that Mr. Pretti’s needless death was one too many for all people of goodwill.

As I reflected on Jonathan’s message, I was drawn to the words of Micah 6:8 ‘He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.’

There are moments when we confuse what God requires of us with our careers. We seem to assume that God desires for us to pursue a particular career path. But the truth is, that isn’t what God requires of us. It also doesn’t mean that we cannot use our careers in pursuit of justice and mercy; yes, we can.

What God requires of us is to act justly, love mercy, and to walk humbly with God. This isn’t about a career path; it is about the posture of the heart, where the heart is oriented, the direction where the heart is pointed, or where the eye of the heart may be looking.

I remember Bishop Budde’s message during the National Prayer Service at the Washington National Cathedral. Her simple plea was for mercy - that the new President should show mercy to those on the margins of our society. Yes, they may have crossed the border. Yes, they may be living here as undocumented. Yes, some may be committing crimes. Yes, some may be living off the largesse of American society. But despite all this, Mr. President, have mercy.

Many folks thought the bishop went out of line for suggesting that the president should show mercy. But what else could she have invited the president to consider, if not mercy? What more could she have asked from the President.

Bishop Budde was very much aware that an important part of any president’s responsibility is to uphold the Constitution and the laws of these United States. But a deeper understanding of that sacred responsibility is that the law cannot be blind to mercy. Temper justice with mercy, we are told. And so, just as much as we want to uphold the law we have sworn to keep, we let mercy and humility guide us.

We don’t bend the law, we bend our hearts, seducing the heart with the words of unrequited love, leading the heart to express a love which finds its anchor in a merciful God.

Remember this: a heart that feeds on a resentment-induced fear consumes itself, but a heart that feeds on faith is daily renewed for the purposes of God. That heart thrives because it is like a tree planted by streams of water. That heart is turned towards mercy. More than that, the posture of that heart is always turned towards love.

Here’s a variation of the poem Take Me To Church by Jimmy Osborne:

Take me to church,

Not just the building of stone and wood,

But to the space inside myself,

Where truth speaks louder than fear.

Where I can kneel before my doubts,

And confess that I am human—

Flawed, searching, yearning.

Take me to church,

Where hymns are sung not just with voices

But with broken hearts and trembling hands.

Where the choir is made of everyone,

The believer, the doubter,

The sinner, the saint.

Let their song be my solace

Take me to church,

To the place where the sacred and the human meet,

Where the heart learns to forgive itself,

And the soul begins to believe again.

Let me stand in the presence of something greater,

Even if it’s just love—

Unfailing, unshaken, eternal.

Take me to church.

Take me home.

Remember, church is where we learn the art of mercy. Church is where we learn how to use the vehicle of love. Church is where our songs of humility are given a voice. Church is where we feel called to turn over a new leaf. Church is where the broken find redemption. Church is where mending is ever possible. Church is where we find home, home in ourselves and in the God who churns our hearts again, and again and again toward Him. Take me to church, so I may be home, Jimmy will say.

I learned these words from Padre Pio: Give to God the remaining years of your life. Beg God to use it in a way that is pleasing to him. These words by Padre Pio raise this question: In what way can we use the remaining years of our lives to please God?

If there’s ever one thing that would be pleasing to God, it would be the posture of our hearts.

Manny+