Rideau Park United Church

Text: [1]	Col 1:15-28
[2]	Psalm 91
[3]	Gen 2:1-7

The title of today's meditation is "Rocking Theology". Now I am sure that some of you are saying—theology—boy, this is going to be dull. But theology is not just a subject studied by ministers—it is what we live every day. It is the study of our religious faith, how we practice our faith, and how we experience God.

In Paul's letter to the Colossians, we hear his theology of the God's love for humanity, Jesus' place in living out that love and what we must do as a result of that love.

However, there are many kinds of theology. Each of them touches on the nature of God, God's presence in our lives and our response to that presence. But they come at it from very different perspectives. They don't provide a complete picture but are, each of them, a window into a greater truth.

For example, there is Liberation theology—this theology interprets the teachings of Jesus in terms of liberation from unjust political, economic, or social conditions. It is an interpretation of Christian faith through the suffering of the poor, their struggle and hope, and it is a critique of society, the church and Christianity through the eyes of the poor.

Then there is Feminist theology—which is found in several religions, including Buddhism, Christianity, and Judaism. It calls us to reconsider our traditions, practices, and scriptures from a feminist perspective.

Some of the goals of feminist theology include:

• increasing the role of women among the clergy and religious authorities,
• reinterpreting male-dominated imagery and language about God, and
• studying images of women in sacred texts.

There is also Environmental theology—this focuses on the connection between religion and nature, particularly in the light of environmental concerns. Ecotheology focuses on the relationship between religious views and the degradation of nature. It explores the interaction between ecological values, such as sustainability, and the human domination of nature.

I think that we are familiar with these first three and have incorporated their perspectives into our worship and lives.

There is another one which is relatively new—Quantum theology—this explores how certain concepts from modern quantum theory may point to deep spiritual truths. I am afraid that I don't understand enough about Quantum theory to even try to explain this one.

Today I want to add a new kind of theology to the list—Rocking theology.

This is not theology based on Rock 'n Roll music, nor is it theology that is revealed out on the seas as the ocean rocks your ship, nor is it theology that is inspired by a struggle to climb to the top of a mountain.

No—Rocking theology expresses the insights gained as you cradle a small infant in your arms: you may be standing up, gently rocking back and forth in what I call the 'mommy rock', or you may be sitting in a rocking chair, rocking forward and back.

Even though you may not be poor, you can be called to new ways of being by the perspective highlighted in Liberation theology. Even though you may not be a woman, you can be nurtured by and grow from the insights gained from Feminist theology. So, too, you don't need to love babies to be inspired by Rocking theology.

I am a woman of a certain age, a woman whose children are grown up but I do not yet have grandchildren. My arms ache to hold a baby. I am drawn to them like a moth to a flame. I am drawn to them on the bus, at church, and in the grocery store.

For years I had planned to volunteer at the Children's Hospital, cuddling babies when I retired. But it was taking too long—I won't be able to retire for a few years yet. And I wanted to hold babies now. So I decided that I would not wait until I retired but would start right away.

The process to volunteer at CHEO is quite involved. You have to be interviewed, have a police check, get needles and obtain personal references. From start to finish, it took me about 7 months to get it all done. I now go to the hospital one evening every other week for about 3 hours. I never know what I will find, how many children will be there or who I may get to cuddle. Often the ones I held during my previous session have gone home and I never see them again.

As a baby cuddler, I sit with babies who are in need of special attention.

They may be fussy and need holding; their parents may need a break to go for coffee or go home to look after other children; they may come from far away and their parents have not yet arrived to be with them. For the most part, I just hold them but sometimes I may also feed them.

The children in my unit have a variety of conditions but I don't usually know their particular situation. I just need to know if there is anything in special that I should be careful of:

• do they need to be held upright?
• do they have trouble keeping food down?
• do they have tubes and monitors?

All in all I was glad that I had persevered through all of the administrative red tape. And I rested in the joy of that realization.

I remember my first evening as a Baby Cuddler. It was a training session with an experienced volunteer Cuddler.

Holding babies who are in the hospital hooked up to wires and tubes is not quite like holding your own baby in the comfort of your own home. These wee ones are often quite fragile and the last thing you want to do is pull out a tube or dislodge their heart monitor bringing the nurses running as the alarm sounds.

The other volunteer and I walked around the unit and she explained all about washing hands when you enter a room, when you leave a room, and when you handle a different baby.

She explained about wearing a gown, ensuring the nurses call-button was within easy reach, getting comfortable in the chair and asking the nurses to place the child in your arms.

That first night I did not get to hold a baby but I did get to spend some time with a beautiful boy about 18 months old. He had lovely blond curls, big bright eyes and a beautiful smile. I don't know why he was there but he did have a tube going into his stomach.

We gave his grandfather a break so he could go for a coffee and I sat down on a large plastic ottoman with the young one beside me. The other volunteer sat on a chair nearby. We were together for over half-an-hour. We read a book, sang some songs and generally amused him. He was a little squirmy at times but all-in-all things went well.

When his grandfather returned, I set the boy down on the floor, put my hand on the ottoman to support myself while I stood up. When I was standing up, I looked at my hand and saw that it had changed color—it was now a brownish color. It was covered with—well you can imagine what it was covered with. I stood there dumbfounded. My hand was dirty, my pants were dirty and my gown was dirty. I am sure you can guess the first word that popped into my mind. It was the same word you could use to describe what was all over my hand. Because the ottoman was plastic, my pants stuck to me because of the moisture from my skin. So I felt like I had had the accident but I was not the culprit—my young friend was. The grandfather was very embarrassed but the volunteer and I just started to laugh. What else could we do?

We went to the washroom and I got cleaned up as best I could and then I went home. I certainly could not go into another child's room with my clothes still a little dirty. It didn't matter that I got dirty, I was helping. And I rested in the joy of that realization.

Because my first session had ended early, my second session was also a training session but with a different volunteer. This time I got to hold 2 babies during my time. I left the session with just a little spit-up on my shirt—so things were improving.

The first baby was a beautiful, little girl just a few months old. I sat down in the rocking chair, ensured the nurse's call-button was handy and nervously received the child from the nurse. I was worried about handling her, worried about dislodging her tubes and monitors. But I pressed on. She was restless at first but I cradled her on my stomach, rocking and patting and singing. Soon she was fast asleep. And I sat there, looking out the window at the clouds floating by, smelling her sweet baby smell, feeling her warmth, praying for her, singing to her, loving her. I felt like I was the instrument of God's love surrounding her, nourishing her. It occurred to me that we are all surrounded by God's love, cradled in God's arms each and every minute of our lives. And I rested in the joy of that realization.

We must have sat and rocked for 45 minutes before I got called to help another baby who was crying. As I got settled with the new child, a boy, again just a few months old, I wondered what his story was, I wondered what his story would be, as his life unfolded. wanted to give him the best chance possible to live out his potential, to share his gifts with the world.

It reminded me of Mary cradling Jesus, God's special child. What amazing potential for greatness filled him and what amazing potential filled this little one, and, in fact, what amazing potential fills all of us. We are all God's children, created in God's image for greatness. Sometimes we forget that, sometimes I forget that. But sitting and rocking and singing to this child reminded me. And I rested in the joy of that realization.

On my third session, there weren't very many babies in the unit. I don't know why but I had expected that it would be full all the time. It was good news that the unit was not full—it meant fewer sick children but it left me with little to do.

I walked the halls for a while, peeking in the rooms to see if any of the children were fussy, if any parents needed a break but I had no takers. Finally, a nurse asked me if I had isolation training—some of the children have contagious conditions and I needed special training to handle them. >I have not yet had that training, so I had to tell the nurse—no. I felt badly—here was someone who could use my help but I was unable to provide it.

I continued to walk the hall listening to the whimpers I could not comfort. I knew that no matter how much I did, I could not be there for all the children. I could only do what I could and prayed that would be enough.

I remembered Jesus' words that the poor will always be among us and I knew that he too must have struggled with this concern. And I rested in the joy of that realization.

I have had several more sessions at the hospital and each one has been a blessing to me. It is such a joy to know that while helping others, I can help myself also.

I have given you clues to the five basic tenets of Rocking theology. Did you catch them? Just to be sure, here they are:

Firstly, know that God loves you, that God cradles you in strong, sure arms, allowing God's energy, power and love to flow through you and will never let you go. As the Psalmist says—God will raise us up on eagles wings and hold us in the palm of God's hand. God's love is the foundation of our lives—it gives us breath and strength and comfort and hope.

Secondly, through that love you are a child of God, filled with the potential to share God's greatness in the world. We can share that greatness in all kinds of ways—in small actions and large projects. In fact, we are all filled with that potential and we must honor and nurture that potential in everyone we meet.

Thirdly, God's love calls you to find a way of serving that warms your heart, gives you a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction, something that gives hope to you and the recipient. There is much work to be done, all kinds of work to bring God's love to the world. It doesn't mean that it will happen quickly—it may take a while for the door to open—after all it took me 7 months to become a cuddler. It may not be easy and you may not be automatically comfortable—you may be scared at first. But persevere. Remember that conditions don't have to be perfect, you don't have to wait until you retire. There are so many different things that God would like done and we all have different talents and interests. Doesn't that seem like a perfect match?

Fourthly, from the bounty of God's love we were created from the very dust of the earth and through Jesus we see God's love lived out in all aspects of human life. And so, doing God's work, helping others can be a very dirty business. You may be covered with dust from cleaning a home for new immigrants to move into, you may find flecks of red or green in your hair or on your hands from painting a friend's fence, you may have soil under your finger nails from planting flowers or shrubs in a community garden or you may be covered in you know what from cuddling a baby. This dirt is your badge of honor, signifying your willingness to get into the muck of life to help others.

Lastly, God calls you to do what you can, with what you have, where you are. Don't get focused on how much there is to do, how many there are to help and then get discouraged because you can't help them all. Do what you can and trust God to care for us all. Do what you can with the time, energy, money, talents and interests you have right now.

Rocking theology—inspired by cuddling babies but inspirational for us all.