Shalom all, Shabbat is approaching. If you are Jewish or Torah-observant, I hope your table is lovely and your family or your guests are ready to meet with God at the dinner table. For my Christian friends who do not keep Shabbat, I pray your weekend is lovely as well.
I just came back from a writer’s retreat in Colorado. I made new friends and added a lot of insight for future writing projects and even for my synagogue sermons. The writers’ group was led by Serendipity House, producers of small group discussion materials for churches. Check them out at serendipityhouse.com. They are changing to a new paradigm, writing materials designed to foster spiritual transformation instead of just information.
Anyway, this Sabbath meditation is adapted from a writing exercise I did for Serendipity House. The session started with a video. The video panned an old warehouse in the city and moved inside to a dark room which the viewer slowly realizes is a dance studio. It is dark and depressing.
The staccato voice of an angry, old man shrieks out commands repetitively. The aged instructor berates his student, demanding more from him than he can give. The dancer is a well-muscled male who looks like a professional dancer, but he cannot please this maniacal instructor. Sweating and straining, he eventually falls to the floor exhausted. And as he lays there, the angry instructor gives up on him and leaves.
He sits for a few minutes, discouraged, knowing he lost his job for this show. Then the camera pans to a woman who has been watching the whole time. She too in an instructor. She kneels down to the floor where the dancer is. She lifts his dejected face to hers. She says,