Grace in the Moment

The rhythms of life

By Mary van Balen

My daughter gave me a subscription to “The Christian Century,” and I have been enjoying it. Two weeks ago, I allowed myself the luxury of reading it cover to cover in one long sitting. Then, of course, I reread, make notes in the margins, and decide what articles will inspire columns or blogs. I have chosen Martin B. Copenhaver’s “In praise of imbalance: the holy rhythms of life” for reflection in this month’s column (Martin is senior pastor of Wellesley Congregational Church in Massachusetts).

The title caught my attention. As Copenhaver writes, balance is a catch phrase these days. Being a Benedictine at heart, that anyone would extol imbalance caught me off guard. Copenhaver compares the difficulty of maintaining balance in one’s life to standing on one foot or balancing a tray of water-filled glasses while walking on a rocky path.

From my year spent beginning to learn Tai Chi, I know that maintaining balance is difficult. Even the ability to walk requires balance, something we usually take for granted.

Copenhaver offers focusing on rhythm as an alternative to striving for balance in one’s spiritual life. Indeed, rhythm may better describe the variety of activities that demand attention. I have known times when studying theology, working, and accompanying a friend on a difficult emotional journey challenged the ideal of balance. We all know that raising a family or doing well at work often demand more attention and time be given to one activity than to another.

However, these examples give only a partial understanding of balance, presenting it as restricting rather than freeing, boring and monotonous rather than exciting and fluid. Dancing seems more desirable, as Martin suggests at the end of his article, than standing on one foot.

True enough. He cites several examples of rhythm in nature and in spiritual life:  breathing in and out, recurring seasons both natural and liturgical, Jesus’ “intense engagement with people around him in rhythm with time alone or with close friends.” All this is true. We do have rhythms in life and in prayer.

Yet, I imagine what brought Jesus exhausted to the door of his friends in Bethany was a need for balance. We can give 110 percent for only a limited time before body and spirit call out for balance.

Balance requires discipline. A dancer’s seemingly effortless graceful response to music is the result of countless hours spent developing her sense of balance, maybe even standing a long time on one foot!

My last column referred to singing along with Pavarotti as I listened to one of his Christmas CDs. Have you seen videos of him singing alongside popular music stars during his charitable “Pavarotti and Friends” concerts? He stands erect, still, classically trained, with a smile on his face, obviously enjoying the music. Then he opens his mouth. His voice, powerful and clear, soars above orchestra and other singers like a volcanic eruption of sheer beauty.

“What a gift,” someone may comment. Yes, but a gift honed and developed by countless hours of practice and use. He was able to move from “We Are the World” to the aria he made famous, “Nessun Dorma,” seemingly without effort. Professional performers know better. Pavarotti breathed in and out like the rest of us, but he was able to control that breath only after years of practice.

So, while I agree with Copenhaver that our spiritual lives involve rhythmic responses and that our breathing in and out is as cadenced as the oceans’ tides, I think the ability to move with life’s demands and the call of our work and family has much to do with the discipline of balance and the centeredness in God that it nurtures. Maintaining sanity while working late into the night for weeks at a time, finishing a thesis or job project while running children to games during a sporting season, or nursing family members through illness requires more than flexibility.

My Benedictine heart finds strength in the ideal of St. Benedict’s Rule that provides time for prayer, recreation, work, and study. He admonished the monks to interrupt whatever they were doing to welcome the stranger as if she were Christ. Those who are able to respond freely to life’s demands, to see “interruptions” not as distractions but as opportunities to love and serve, are able to do so because they have cultivated balance in their lives that enable them to move over rocky paths as well as smooth roads without missing a beat.

Copyright 2011 by Mary van Balen-Holt.  Visit van Balen-Holt's blog at http://maryvanbalen.com/blog.htm