The following is the piece created and read by Jason Ikpatt during liturgy on June 12, 2016. To listen to the podcast of the sermon, click here
meditation is not
only for the
pious monk.
it was always a
fully focused effort, a
consummate endeavor – we
always set all of
our furniture aside
when the time came
for us
to
dance as well.
i know a rhythm that
insists upon itself,
and its boldness insists upon our
mimicry and i’ve seen that
instinctively we all oblige,
each
in the language of our
lineage.
all, in the
re-crafting of our
memories, forward. into the void of a
boundless age.
here lives our
liturgy.
i know that
careful vigil is not
only for the
pious nun.
we speak small deaths with
every word, we
reassemble our
selves with
every
thought.
we speak small
life with
every thought,
we
reassemble
our
selves
with every word. we
know that there
is a rhythm that insists
upon its own propagation
and we have seen
that it is irresistible –
we have seen that
the monks and the nuns
are just
dancers like the rest
of us, save that
they have no furniture
left to move.
in your home, you must gather up
all of the ones
you have loved –
together
with all of the ones you
have hated. and altogether you must
speak
nothing, perform nothing,
construct nothing,
and in doing so, everything
that remains
will be true rhythm, and thus,
naturally
you will
assign yourselves to recliners, and rugs,
and lamps, and one by one
remove them all,
for the moment,
to
make room to
dance. in
spirit and in
truth.
and
your feet will write
new riffs on
ancient patterns, and your prayers will
be made known to
you as you
reach out
toward them.
remember that dancing is not dancing if you are dancing alone.
remember that you can never truly be alone if you have once been truly together.