It’s all Marco Polo
Third Sunday after the Epiphany, RCL A
Every public and community pool, and even a few hotel pools, are accompanied everyday by the melodic back and forth of Marco Polo. It is a derivation of the game of tag, but perfect for the pool. In this game the person who is IT has their eyes closed. They are in the pool and trying to tag one other person, only by sound. A sort of reverse hide and seek, in the water. The other playmates are moving about the pool, they are supposed to stay in the water, often getting within an arms length of the one who is IT, before dashing beneath the cover of liquid space. There are thrills and let downs, cheaters who manage to get by, and fools who get too close to stay free. There is teamwork, the risk of the water, the eyes closed: all of which fills the game with something more thrilling than simple tag. Marco Polo.
Our lessons, especially the Psalm, are laced with both anxiety and the activity of seeking what is hidden: not exactly like the game, but calling to mind its feelings and efforts. Where life was confusion, forces have steadied, maybe. I don’t think that God hides from us, nut I do know that the feeling of God being anywhere but close, is real, sometimes. The spiritual joruney can feel much like Marco Polo. You call out, and there’s an answer, but it’s not close by, there are a multitude of other things going on that you also cannot see. The voice invites, but you can’t always easily grab at it. Every time you extend your arm you imagine that you will find it. There will be a tangible illumination, an end to being the one who is IT, the chance to open your eyes: but the whoa gets lost in space. And then sometimes you grasp that revelation when you were not even trying.
A new job can sometimes feel like Marco Polo, Moving to a new place can feel that way too. Making your way through the health care system can often feel like Marco Polo on an obstacle course. Maybe the game sticks around because it is so close to life. Perhaps the lesson the game teaches us Is that life isn’t about knowing everything you want to know, or even where you are at every moment, or who is for or against you all the time. Life is about being present – a body in the pool – listening and paying attention. Being patient, trusting that trying is how it is played, and missing isn’t the end.
Our psalms answer to this sense of being IT, the sacred way to peace when Feeling put upon and disoriented is being an active part of a community of mercy and loving kindness and justice and regular ritual practice. These things are how we let God bring us back to the center – the feeling of foundness. All that brings peace and enlightenment, It isn’t a precious secret, nor is it revealed by spending lavishly. But it does require that we get in the game, not just lounge poolside. The good news is that God enters the water itself. All the nonsense, all the games, all the horror, all the blessing. The only one who can forgive, forgives from the middle.
The good news is sometimes our fellow players are full of grace and will sacrifice themselves to get us out of being caught in being IT. The good news is that the frustration isn’t forever. There is refreshment all around if we can feel it – and the game does wrap up. If you feel like you are stuck in a constant game of Marco Polo Jesus comes to you in the water and says: I got you. I will be it.
The game also reminds us that It’s OK to name your heartbreak your confusion and your frustration and your grief and isolation out loud. In my three plus years here in the neighborhood, I have noticed that sometimes important deep real things don’t get said or lived out loud. You don’t have to look far to learn that some of us we are three kinds of IT at the same time. Some of us are in an endless series of games where we are always IT, and we are tired – but we don’t name it so others can hear. Whatever your IT is – you are loved by God, you are never alone, and you are invited to say the real version of Marco out loud – to reach for relief. When no one is saying either Marco or Polo Keeps us in the worst of the game. For all who are IT May you feel that the very presence of the Living God Is real and merciful and trustworthy Hearing you, calling to you, broken for you, risen for you.
This era of church life also feels a little bit like Marco Polo. I can’t see all the people who are hearing our voices. The pool has people in it that I just cannot hear or see. Broadcasting only goes one way. It is like the polo responses are all underwater. If you are seeing and hearing me online – will you reach out this week – tell us how you are doing, what you are seeing – will you shout Polo? This is not the swimming pool I started in, it’s not the swimming pool the generation before me and the one before that swam in. Those pools and this one are not perfect, but they are at its best, flooded with connection and family and friendship and holiness, like the joy of jumping in a good game in the pool. The ‘swimming pool’ we’re in now It is still both hidden and revealed, It can be more of an experience of connection and awe and service to the common good – but we are all still learning this new ‘game’. I know it is of the Holy Spirit – but that’s the hard part the Holy Spirit is about comfort when we need it, but it is also very like a nose and mouth filling unexpected splash when we need that. The Spirit is pushing, pulling, leading us to doing things : not the same. The 27th Psalm is about enlightenment and religious centering and revelation. It is not a ‘how to guide’, but an assurance that even in the context of crisis and disorientation the hope we need exists plentifully. It is findable right here – through practices ancient and new. Keep seeking. Be a grace for the one who’s having trouble finding help. When you see the new person at the pool – invite them to play. And also, love the people who are sitting fully dressed in the shade beside the pool too. Who we are, who we are called to be, and the loving peace of God, are all at the pool. Marco – Polo.