Tuesday's Labyrinth - Remembering Lisa
And a remembrance I've been working on
I woke up a year ago today to a message that Lisa had died. I had gone to bed the night before knowing that her death was coming very soon. And I also woke remembering a dream that I got a tattoo of a labyrinth on the inside of my right arm (and I would end up having the same dream the next two nights). When I saw the message, I quietly said for Lisa one of the lines from our funeral liturgy...”For Lisa, death is past and pain ended and she has entered the joy that God has prepared” and then I woke Amy to let her know.
Today, I went to the Labyrinth built in memory of her at St Timothy’s Episcopal Church in Cincinnati. I left our house at about 6:15am because I wanted to arrive before sunrise for three reasons. First, there was a chance of rain later in the morning so I didn’t want to walk it in the rain. Second, I’m an introvert and I wanted to walk it alone (and with Scout). Third, and most importantly, because I believe and trust and hope in the story that begins...”Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb...” (John 20:1). Each Gospel tells the story a bit differently but they all begin essentially the same. The women who were following Jesus went early to the tomb. And in each story, they are met by the resurrected Jesus.
Now I am not comparing Lisa to Jesus but instead I went to Lisa’s Labyrinth this morning because I believe with my whole self in the cycle of life that is built into the very fabric of creation.... Birth...Life...Death...Resurrection. It’s all in there in every part of creation around us. In the seasons. In the lives of living things. In us. And I whole heartedly believe in those words I silently spoke a year ago today...”For Lisa, death is past and pain ended and she has entered the joy that God has prepared.”
This morning, I was greeted by a gentle pink clouds against a blue sky in the moments before the sun began to rise above the horizon. The light cast a beautiful pink/purple across that space. It was quiet and it was beautiful. The rain hadn’t shown up and no one else was there. And I once again spoke those same words proclaiming my trust and believe in resurrection and new life. “Lisa, for you death is past and pain ended and you are in the joy that God has prepared.”
And so I walked the labyrinth and it was beautiful and needed and holy. And I am sure that Lisa laughed though as I was walking into the middle when Scout did the same as a week ago today. She scooted out to the grass on the outside and did her business. I just laughed, walked over, picked it up, and resumed the walk. I also remembered that Lisa and my last conversation outside her house was at a pop-up dog park when it was just her and Turbo and me and Scout.
Yup, it’s all in there.
Over the last several weeks I have been working on something for today. I am still not sure whether it works or not but I’m putting it out there. When I was at the retreat with Carrie Newcomer back in January and as she was leading our group through the writing of a song, I also got thinking about crafting something. I got a thought about putting a poem out in the form of a labyrinth but tied to the expansive perspectives on life, faith, and love that Lisa exhibited so beautifully. But first a bit of background...
We live life so much in binaries - right/wrong, black/white, male/female, good/evil, and so forth. But living life in binaries is not what we see exemplified in the life of Jesus. Instead Jesus was so much more a both-and person rather than an either/or.
In one of the CAC’s 2017 daily emails, Cynthia Bourgeault shares that our default “operating system” is one of either/or and that it does have importance in our lives for basic needs but that we can get stuck in that way of engaging the world. But she writes that a system “based on duality can’t possibly perceive oneness; it can’t create anything beyond itself - only more duality and more trouble.” But then this...
But we do have the capacity, if we so choose, to shift to a whole different basis of perception. We come into this life with another untapped operating system, and we can learn to steer by it, understand through it, and ultimately discover our deepest sense of identity within it.1
What I hear in this is...it’s all in there. It isn’t about binary of what is and what is not but how so much of all of this is a spectrum. Just like what I started with - we move from birth to life to death to resurrection - it is a spectrum through the whole thing with one flowing into the next.
So back to what I’ve been working on. I have been working on a poem of sorts of the many different spectrums in our lives and I started looking at the pieces of a labyrinth. Each labyrinth has short segments, medium segments, and longer segments and they all flow one into the other until eventually you reach the center and then return by the same path to the outside. So I began finding short two-part spectrums, then three, then four or more - with each corresponding to a different part of the 7-circuit labyrinth that I dreamt of a year ago. I thought about writing the pieces into an actual labyrinth but that felt hard to read. And then I started playing with other ways of visualizing these spectrums along the flowing curves and twists of the labyrinth and so I came up with two different versions - each starting from the outside of the labyrinth and getting to the heart and then returning to where one started.
I have to post them as images because I can’t get them to look right directly on substack. Also, here’s a PDF of both of them. (click for the full size of each)
I don’t know if either of them work but they are my gift to Lisa today in gratitude for her life and for the difference she made in the lives of so so so many people. Not only was she an amazing friend for many years but she was a hope-bringer in a time in my life in 2017 and 2018 when life and ministry was deeply painful, when people who I trusted seemed to turn on me, when I wondered what was ahead, and when my family and I stepped into a scary unknown. I don’t know how Amy and I would have navigated that time without her. But beyond that time, she was a gift to us, to our family, to our community, and to so so so many, but especially to her husband and their beautiful children.
I visited the labyrinth a second time today as Amy and I wanted to walk it together. When we arrived, there were white roses that had been left at the entrance and at the heart of the labyrinth. The rain had shown up but we had about a 15 minute window where we were able to walk. As we walked, I noticed a large hawk up in one of the trees right around the labyrinth simply watching. Amy collected stones and made a small cairn at the heart and then two more at the entrance. I also noticed a small cross of twigs in the midst of one of the paths.
While I was waiting for Amy to finish her walk, I looked at the pamphlets at the entry and saw this quote from Lisa.
Those who have tried to follow Jesus come, those who have failed, those who do not know him, those who love and adore him, all come to the labyrinth for a variety of reasons and Spirit stirs the soul and offers whatever needs to be offered to anyone and everyone just by giving ourselves to the experience. It is a beautiful thing and much needed in our world today.
As I was typing that out, I noticed how even that first sentence (which feels a bit like a run-on) is “it’s all in there.” Inclusive love, extravagant welcome, Spirit presence, beauty, and heart for the world.
So, today is a day to thank God for Lisa. To remember Lisa. To give thanks for resurrection and new life. To seek to live out the expansive spectrum of God’s love each day.
For those who did not know Lisa, here are two videos from her memorial service on March 18, 2023. The first is her mom’s beautiful reflection on Lisa’s life and the second is a brief reflection I shared based on Philippians 4 , which Lisa asked me to share in that service.
It’s all in there.
Also if you would like, I’d love to hear what spectrums you would include in this poem - short, medium, or long. Feel free to share below.
GPLJ,
Ed
I would like to have heard your "poetic" remembrance read by 2 people. It's the rough work done by playwrights. Nice.