​This past weekend (September 13-16) I was honored to participate in the 2nd annual New Mexico Pilgrimage for Unity, a 45 mile ecumenical walking pilgrimage through Northern New Mexico, in which pilgrims from a variety of Christian traditions-both Catholic and Protestant-walk and pray together for Christian Unity.  

Last year I was privileged to participate in the pilgrimage as Spiritual Director and provide leadership for worship and prayer throughout the journey (alongside Seth Finch, pastor of Covenant Presbyterian Church in ABQ and David Poole, liturgical musician at large).  This year I was blessed to step back and receive the rich blessing of being a simple pilgrim,  led in prayer and worship by  this year's Spiritual Direction Team (which included Ariel Bondoc, a Roman Catholic musician from the Philippines, Becky Glad, an Evangelical Christian from Texas, and Stephanie Gretchen, a Quaker from Albuquerque.)

Our journey began at Christ in the Desert Monastery.  We walked to Ghost Ranch, and then on to Abiquiu, and at last to Chimayo. 

 On the first day of our pilgrimage, as we started to make our way from Christ in the Desert towards Ghost Ranch, I asked one of my fellow pilgrims, Eugene Corrales (a young Roman Catholic from Abiquiu) to teach me to pray the Hail Mary in Spanish.  

I have found it useful, over the past several months, to pray and read devotional material in Spanish.  I am only a (very) beginning Spanish student, but I find that by praying in my non-dominant language, I am able to approach God in a different--more simple, childlike, and trusting--way.  

 With Eugene's help, I prayed the words over and over again...

​Dios te salve, María, 
llena eres de gracia, 
el Seńor es contigo. 
Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres, 
y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre, Jesús. 
Santa María, Madre de Dios, 
ruega por nosotros, los pecadores, 
ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte.
Amén

...step by step, mile by mile, the words of the prayer began to grow within me--first into a movement meditation, and then into a song.  

By the end of Day 1, the movement meditation had taken shape.  By the end of Day 2, the melody had taken shape.  By Day 3 the movement and melody carried the prayer--and me along with it--so that my conscious mind no longer had to struggle to find the words, and my feet no longer had to struggle to find their step.

​At the end of the third day of walking we reached our destination-El Santuario de Chimayo.  To my surprise I was greeted there by a statue of Our Lady, with the opening lines of the Hail Mary inscribed, in Spanish, above her head!

Below you will find an explanation/demonstration that I created of the movement meditation at Ghost Ranch, at the end of our first day of walking.

And below is a video of the movement meditation and song I created (with the help of pilgrim Orlinie Vasquez) during our lunch break at the Chama River on Day 2 of the pilgrimage. 

If you are an English speaking Catholic--perhaps praying the Hail Mary in Spanish will deepen or revive your connection to the prayer.

If you are a Spanish speaking Catholic--perhaps praying Dios te salve Maria in movement or song will expand or renew your connection to the prayer.

If you are an English or Spanish speaking Protestant, perhaps the words, or the movements, or the melody of this prayer will allow you to experience anew the power of being carried by the prayer and intercession of Mary, who is not only the mother of Jesus but also our sister in faith. 

A generous grant from Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary recently enabled my preaching cohort to travel to England for a weeklong prayer and study retreat as part of our two year "Resistance Through Preaching and Song" Project. We are an ecumenical group: two ELCA Lutherans (Alex & Asher); two Episcopalians (Kerri & me); one Swedenborgian (Anna) plus one other member (not an official part of the cohort for purposes of the grant) from the Church of England (Gemma). 

​One highlight of our retreat was a day trip to Holy Island/Lindsifarne on the August 31st--the feast of St. Aidan.  

In the church on Holy Island we found a beautiful illumination (below) including these words:

His love that burns inside me
​impels me on the road
to seek for Christ in the stranger's face
or feel the absence of His touch

Before the tide rolled in, cutting off the Island from the mainland, I took off my shoes so that I could walk barefoot on the Pilgrim's Way from Holy Island back to the mainland.  As I walked through sand and water, mud and sea grass, praying and pondering these words, step by step a song began to take shape.

​​The fire inside
impels me on the road
to seek Christ in the stranger's face
​or feel the absence of his touch.

In the video below, you can see the members of my preaching group "on the road" after our trip to Holy Island, and we'll do our best to teach you the song.  

​The fire inside
impels us on the road
to seek Christ in the stranger's face
​or feel the absence of His touch.

The fire inside
impels us on the road
to seek Christ in the stranger's face
​or feel the absence of His touch.

Powerful words, huh? And challenging.

I am essentially a homebody, so any fire that "impels me on the road" is at least a little bit scary.  And as a strong introvert, the demand to "seek Christ in the stranger's face or feel the absence of Christ's touch" is definitely scary.    

And yet at the same time I definitely experience a fire inside that continually impels me forward--out of my comfort zone and onto the road--into challenging situations and challenging relationships that  I might never choose of my own accord. 

Thanks be to God, the Kingdom of God isn't built entirely on my choosing!

​As Jesus says in John's Gospel:

You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last.... (John 15:16)
 
While I might not have the power, of my own accord, to choose the path God has set before me,  neither do I have the power, in the end, to deny it.  

In the words of the Prophet Jeremiah:

...within me there is something like a burning fire
   shut up in my bones;
I am weary with holding it in,
   and I cannot. (Jeremiah 20:9)

In July 2018, at the very start of my sabbatical, I had the honor of participating in several temezcales (meso-american sweat lodges), at the invitation of my friend the Rev. Virginia Marie Rincon, as part of an annual summer "curanderismo" course offered by the University of New Mexico which offers students an opportunity to explore traditional healing of Mexico and the Southwest. 

In the temezcal we sang this song:

Agua vital, purificame
Fuego de amor, quema mi temor
Viento del alma, llevame al altar
Madre Tierra, vuelvo a mi hogar
en el temezcal

[Living water, purify me
fire of love, consume my fear
wind of the spirit, carry me to the altar
mother earth, I return to my home
in the temezcal]

​As a priest in the "Episcopal Branch of the Jesus Movement", I find an easy resonance with this song.  I believe that not only all humankind, but all of creation is created and called to share in God's work of healing, God's work of creation and re-creation.  

Scripture and liturgy alike abound with references to the elements of water, fire, wind, and earth.

I can't help but think of the waters of baptism,  the purifying fire  and rushing wind of the Holy Spirit,  the earth from which we are formed and to which we return, remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.  

As I continued to pray this song in the days following the temezcal, a 3 part series of movements and images came to mind. 

​With the first repetition of the song, I imagine myself as a seed, buried deep in the earth.  I imagine rainwater drenching the earth, fire sweeping across the ground above me, consuming dry grasses and trees, wind rushing over the landscape, sweeping it clean.  All the while, I remain buried: waiting, gestating, in the dark depths of Mother Earth, God's Womb or God's Heart.

With the second repetition of the song, I rise up to my knees, imagining that I am the seed sprouting up from the earth.  A seedling, a "green blade rising", a tender shoot I remain rooted in the earth, but begin to stretch up towards the sky.  I feel myself bathed in gentle raindrops and fiery sunbeams.  I bloom and flower, and release seeds which are carried on the wind up into the sky, then back down into the earth.

With the third repetition of the song, I rise to standing. I imagine that I am standing in a pool under a waterfall.  The cleansing waters of baptism wash over me.  A fire rises from the earth, consuming and transforming fear (and all that is not of God) from within my body, belly, heart, mind.  The rushing wind of the Spirit blows the ash of the fear and falsehood (aka Ego) that has been consumed to the four corners, and carries the golden seed of my True Self--the tiny, beloved Child of God, created in the image and likeness of God--up to the heavens, to the Altar of God, then back down to be planted in the earth,  the Womb of God where I receive nourishment for growth once more. 

​ In the videos below (recorded amidst the monastery ruins at Holy Island/Lindisfarne during my recent preaching group retreat) I demonstrate this movement meditation.   

I invite you to explore praying with this song, these images, these movements, these elements in the days to come. Through them, may you come to know more deeply God's healing, creating, and re-creating work in your own body, mind, spirit, life, and community.

And I invite you to share what you discover in the comments, below.