“Rooted and Grounded in Love” by Elizabeth Gellfeld

August 4, 2024

Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

The theme of our Summer season, “Grounded in Love,” is taken from the Epistle we
read last Sunday, the letter of Paul to the Ephesians, Chapter 3. I’ll read verses 16 and
17, from the New Revised Standard Version.

I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be
strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ
may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in
love. – Ephesians 3:16-17, NRSV

Rooted and grounded in love: The first question that comes to my mind is, what is
meant by that word love? For some of you this is probably an easy question, but I didn’t
have unconditional love modeled for me as I was growing up, and all life my I have
searched for a definition, an understanding, of love.

Here’s one that I like, from Maria Popova, in her essay based in part on the book
Nothing Personal, by the civil rights activist and author James Baldwin:
The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love — whether we call it friendship
or family or romance — is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s
light. – Maria Popova, The Marginalian,
https://www.themarginalian.org/2022/01/31/james-baldwin-nothing-personal-love/

And another definition, which I find very relatable, came from Koyla a couple of weeks
ago, when she shared in our Gathering Circle about spending time with her sister and
extended family members who are not the easiest people to “love.” And I use quotes
there because “easy to love” almost always means “enjoyable” in some way. But Kolya

said that love means extending generosity even when you don’t feel like it. I would add,
especially when you don’t feel like it.

That is the theme that runs throughout the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians, and
we often miss it because we get so caught up in the beautiful poetry of that chapter.

I’m going to read a few verses of the chapter, verses 4 through 8, from the First Nations
Version: An Indigenous Translation of the New Testament.

Love is patient and kind. Love is never jealous. It does not brag or boast. It is not
puffed up or big-headed. Love does not act in shameful ways, nor does it care
only about itself. It is not hot-headed, nor does it keep track of wrongs done to it.
Love is not happy with lies and injustice, but truth makes its heart glad. Love
keeps walking even when carrying a heavy load. Love keeps trusting, never loses
hope, and stands firm in hard times. The road of love has no end. – 1 Corinthians
13:4-8, First Nations Version

Now that we have at least some idea of what love is – seeing it as if through a mirror – I
want to take a closer look at the word “generosity.” Last week I listened to a podcast
conversation between two writers, Nicole Antoinette and Amelia Hruby, talking about
ordinary generosity vs. radical generosity. Here are some of their ideas.

Ordinary generosity comes from having more than enough and then giving so that
someone else can have enough. It’s the kind of sharing we’re taught as children: I have
more, they have less, so I will share with them. Or it’s transactional, for instance, I get a
tax deduction for however many dollars I give to an organization.

Radical generosity, as Amelia Hruby defined it, changes the whole framework, to center
on giving and being of service in everything we do. So, I might feel like I have more than
enough, or just enough, but that doesn’t determine whether I’m going to share or give
some away. Always and in every situation I ask, how can I be of service?

And that doesn’t mean that I give beyond my resources, whether those resources are
material or energetic. Self-exploitation is not generous. But it might mean that I need to
stretch myself to give beyond what I think my resources are. There’s no one right
answer.

Now lets look at the word grounded. What does it mean to be grounded? The apostle
Paul prayed for the Christians at Ephesus, saying, “I pray … that Christ may dwell in
your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and rounded in love.”

I’m reading the book Becoming Rooted, by the Rev. Dr. Randy Woodley, an author,
activist, farmer, and leader in the fields of Indigenous and intercultural studies, ecology,
spirituality, race, theology, and mission. He is a Cherokee descendant recognized by the
Keetoowah Band.

Dr. Woodley’s book Becoming Rooted is subtitled One Hundred Days of Reconnecting
with Sacred Earth. For each of the one hundred days there are two pages of meditations
and ideas for reflection and action.

Here are a few excerpts from Chapter 21:

Throughout Indian country, one phrase rings true. No matter where you go, “We
are still here.” … It may not seem like such a profound statement. But given the
numerous attempts at cultural assimilation and genocide that have decimated
many Native American populations by 95 percent since 1492 – and given that
Indigenous people still have some of the worst living conditions on Turtle Island
– the statement means a lot. “We are still here” speaks directly to the hope that
remains in America’s First Nations.

… The earned hope of which I speak is built on a spirituality of relationship with
the land and with all living creation and on respect for elders who sacrificed to
give the generations to follow them a future. In that sense, maybe a better way to

honor the sacrifices of those who came before is to say, “We are still here because
they were here before us.”

This very real hope recognizes that Earth endures and that we can still do enough
to reverse the damage done. After all, the Earth is much stronger and more
resilient than any human being. Although human beings are part of the Earth, we
may be the most expendable. This gives me pause – as well as a much longer view
of our history and our future.”

Woodley ends the chapter with this question for reflection: “On what foundation is your
hope secured?” He then invites us to list the certainties we would still have if all other
things were taken away, including home, land, family, religion, and means of making a
living.

On what foundation is your hope secured? List the certainties in your life if
everything else (home, land, family, religion, means of making a living) were
taken away. – Randy Woodley, Becoming Rooted, pp. 56-57

I notice that all those things that Woodley listed – home, land, family, religion, means of
making a living – are the things that my ancestors, the settlers, took away from the
Indigenous people of this continent.

I take this opportunity to acknowledge and honor the Piscataway and Nacotchtank
(Anacostan) nations, on whose ancestral lands we are sitting.

For those of us who have all those things, I wonder what we mean when we talk about
being grounded in love? What might that look like?

Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation, from his Center for Action and Contemplation in New
Mexico, recently had a series on the Twelve Steps as spiritual practice. The meditation
published on July 25th addresses the Eleventh Step, which is, “We sought through

prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood
God, praying only for knowledge of God’s will for us and the power to carry that out.”

Richard Rohr writes:
The word prayer, which Bill W. used in Step 11, juxtaposed with the word
meditation, is a code word for an entirely different way of processing life. When
we “pray,” we are hopefully moving from an egocentric perspective to a soul-
centric perspective. It’s the prayer of quiet and self-surrender that best allows us
to follow Step 11, which Bill W. must have recognized by also using the word
meditation—at a time when that word was not at all common in Christian circles.
He was right, because only contemplative prayer or meditation invades, touches,
and heals the unconscious! This is where all the woundedness lies—but also
where God hides and reveals, “in that secret place” (Matthew 6:6). [1]
Then Rohr quotes mindfulness teacher Thérèse Jacobs-Stewart, who, on a visit to the
Missionaries of Charity Motherhouse in India, heard Mother Teresa speak of prayer in
this way:
[Mother Teresa] said daily prayer and meditation helped to keep the nuns from
getting disheartened. “You should pray and meditate every day, so you know that
you are loved, so you feel the presence of God’s love in your life. This is the only
way you can truly help others and serve the poorest of the poor. We have to give
from a full heart, one that is saturated with love, overflowing to others. Before we
can give freely, we have to know that we are loved. This is why you should pray
and meditate every day. So you can remember you are loved, letting it fill your
heart and your body. Let it fill every cell of your being. Then give it all away.”
Jacobs-Stewart continues: “In my early years of working Step 11, all that seeking
through prayer and meditation seemed like a lot of effort. I realize now that I was
striving, applying my usual style of managing and controlling to my spiritual practice. …

Now, thirty-some years later, I think that conscious contact simply takes time on the
cushion.” [2]
The new moon, the first phase of the lunar cycle, is a good time for a reset. At this time
when the shadow side of the moon faces us, we can honor the sacred within by checking
in with ourselves, taking a little time for self-care, and setting an intention to focus more
on curiosity than on expectation.
This brings to mind for me Erica’s reflection in Inward/Outward on the gospel we read
today. She writes about good questions, and becoming aware of when we’re asking the
wrong questions, like the crowds of people following Jesus, and wondering what better
questions might be. Erica asks, “If I learn to ask better questions, will my idea of what’s
important begin to change? Will I have good answers at the ready in the midst of
challenging experiences? Most importantly, can I start to see the world through the eyes
of my teacher?”
Richard Rohr concludes with this:
People’s willingness to find God in their own struggle with life—and let it change
them—is their deepest and truest obedience to God’s eternal will. Remember,
always remember, that the heartfelt desire to do the will of God is, in fact, the
truest will of God. At that point, God has won, the ego has lost, and our prayers
have already been answered. [3]

I’ll close by reading those verses from Ephesians 3, verses 16 through 18, in the First
Nations Version.

16. My prayer for you is that from the great treasures of his beauty, Creator will
    gift you with the Spirit’s mighty power and strengthen you in your inner being.
17. In this way, the Chosen One will make his home in your heart. I pray that as
    you trust in him, your roots will go deep into the soil of his great love, 18. and
    that from these roots you will draw the strength and courage needed to walk this

sacred path together with all his holy people. This path of love is higher than the
stars, deeper than the great waters, wider than the sky. Yes, this love comes from
and reaches to all directions. – Ephesians 3:16-18, First Nations Version

1. Selected from Richard Rohr, Breathing under Water: Spirituality and the
   Twelve Steps, 10th anniv. ed. (Cincinnati: Franciscan Media, 2011, 2021), 91, 95
2. Thérèse Jacobs-Stewart, Mindfulness and the 12 Steps (Center City, MN:
   Hazelden Publishing, 2010), 151, 152–153
3. Rohr, Breathing under Water, 97, 98–99