Amy Courts
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This meditation was first preached on March 23, 2022 at Oak Grove Lutheran Church in Richfield, MN during our weekly mid-week Lent services. The livestreamed recording of the song and meditation may be viewed here. Song lyrics to "Lay Down My Head" are below the meditation. PSALM 23:5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil, and my cup overflows. I come to you tonight, a bundle of nerves and anxiety. My thoughts are heavy, and dense, as I ponder what it is to be honored, to feast on goodness, in the presence of enemies. I’m thinking a lot about the Honorable Ketanji Brown Jackson, the first Black woman nominated to the US Supreme Court. I’m thinking about the number of senators, all of them white, most of them men, who have both directly and indirectly, overtly and implicitly challenged her credentials and fitness despite having confirmed her to federal courts three times already, and despite that both her experience and expertise far exceed that of the last three justices they confirmed. I am thinking about the traps that have been laid for her, the many attempts over these three days, to bait her to react in such a way that they might categorize and dismiss her as an “angry Black woman.” I am thinking of the stark differences between how she has been treated and spoken to, compared to her immediate predecessor, Justice Amy Coney Barrett. I am lingering on what so many of my Black teachers and friends, and some of my favorite Black authors, have long been saying: that Black people in the USA must work twice as hard, for twice as long, and be thrice as perfect and unimpeachable as their white peers in order to be taken half as seriously. My thoughts are with her, in the presence of her enemies. I am thinking also of my beloved transgender nibling — my sister's oldest child, who is genderqueer and has thus been all but disowned by her family, and who is constantly battling transphobia and misgendering both on social media and in her day-to-day life. With her, I think of all God’s transgender image bearers, who are, right now, being targeted across the country with more and harsher anti-trans legislation than ever before. I am thinking of trans teenagers who cannot tell their parents for fear of rejection, violence, or homelessness; I am thinking of the parents who do love their trans kids and are now facing the very real threat in some states of legal punishments for helping their child receive medically proven gender affirming therapies and treatments. I am thinking of trans athletes, especially Lia Thomas, a trans woman swimmer who is being targeted, harassed, and bullied; and accused of cheating for having become slower at her sport, even while her trans identity is made into a weapon for controlling all girls’ bodies. For, if we reduce womanhood to biological sex and then force trans women to “prove” their womanhood by the only means they can — by disrobing — then we create a pretext, set a precedent, by which any girl, any child, any person can be “accused” of being the opposite gender, and then forced to prove their gender by disrobing. I think of how hard I already know it is to be a queer woman, and how much harder still it must be for our trans sisters. And my thoughts are with them, in the presence of their enemies. And tonight, I am thinking of myself, of all of us here, when I consider every time we have been stripped down or made to feel less-than among our enemies; every time we’ve been cast off or chastised for failing to meet the subjective and so often unspoken expectations of the people around us. I’m thinking of the time we’ve all lost working and toiling, breaking our backs in solitude instead of breaking bread together, in order to prove that we deserve the money, food, shelter, medicine, and companionship we need to survive our few short years on this earth. My thoughts are with everyone here who’s ever been surrounded by critics and made to feel like you didn’t measure up; everyone who believed if you just worked a bit longer, tried a bit harder, gave a bit more of your limited self, then you might finally be worthy of joy…and rest… and restoration. My point is, I come to tonight’s meditation in the 23rd Psalm with heavy and burdensome thoughts, and I offer this truth in exchange for the enemy’s lies: Judge Jackson, Lia Thomas, and yes, you and I, beloved, were born worthy and created for the highest honor at God’s Table. Indeed, Ours is a God who prepares a feast of celebration and raises us to the seat of honor, making a loud, flamboyant show of favor and delight, right in front of our enemies. Ours is a God for whom quiet, whispered affirmation of our belovedness will not suffice. No, our God proclaims Their favor, pours out Their anointing, and fills us to the brim, so that we overflow with God’s Godness, spilling the blessing of our own anointing even onto those who stand in condemnation or incredulity. To believe the truth of the 23rd Psalm is to believe that You, Beloved, Matter to God. That you are worthy of lush green pastures, you are worthy of restoration by still waters, you are worthy of comfort in your distress, and you are worthy of being honored especially in front of those who despise you, because you are God’s, and God has proudly claimed you. You are not alone; God is with you; God is For you. There is nothing to prove, no favor to earn. You are favored. You have already been anointed. God’s table is set, and you are God’s prized guest. May you leave this place tonight in the over-fullness of your own belovedness, certain also of one another’s belovedness, and eager to spill this anointing of God all around you. Amen. Lay Down My Head
(c) 2020 Amy Courts Koopman You lead me into green pastures And I’m running like a kid again I’d forgotten just how good it is And the wind peals with Laughter And now it’s singing like a song to me And I start to believe If I could lay all it down and pause for a minute If I had a whole day, I don’t know what I’d do with it I’ve been going so long, moving so fast If I had the chance to catch my breath, I’d try to make it last So I could lay down my head, lay down my head I follow you to still waters And I cup my hands to take a sip I’d forgotten how sweet it is And I know that it matters That I come here and be comforted To stay with you and savor when I Lay all it down and pause for a minute If I had a whole day, I don’t know what I’d do with it I’ve been going so long, moving so fast If I had the chance to catch my breath, I’d try to make it last So I could lay down my head So I could lay down my head You lay a feast in the presence of my enemies And you and I eat and we talk about everything That’s been weighing on me And you say, “If you just breathe, it’s gonna be alright” If I lay down my head, pause for a minute I could have a whole day and do whatever I want I could slow down, take a deep breath Oh, I could lay down my head Lay down my head, lay down my head
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