By Megan Mary O’Brien (Guest Contributor)–
(Editor’s note: this reflection discusses a liturgical dance by the author and by dancer Trevor Wilde performed at Missio Dei in Salt Lake City on Ash Wednesday 2021.)
“Let the bones that you have crushed rejoice…” (Psalm 51:8)
Crushed bones.
Reflecting from my view as an athlete/dancer, “crushed bones” resembles one of my worst nightmares.
Nevertheless, in this Psalm of David they are something to rejoice in.
This phrase pierced and poked at me as my friend and fellow artist Trevor Wilde and I read through the Psalm we planned to perform with on Ash Wednesday. Before initially meeting up with Trevor to collaborate on the idea, I spent many moments lying on the floor, watching my ceiling fan go round and round, wondering what I was going to do with this Psalm. Until I started attending Missio (three Ash Wednesdays ago), my dancing and creating never really coincided with my church going. The exception was the occasional liturgical performance, which usually fit into the confines of holding a basket of bread, turning to a face a different wall on certain words the choir sung and walking a few steps forward to repeat the whole process again. Don’t get me wrong: eight year old Megan proudly and capably performed it. Now however, many years later, the choice of what I wanted to say with my art, in this specific setting, was up to me. Instead of speaking, I tried to listen.
During my time at Missio, I have learned the practice of Lectio Divina. Trevor and I began there. We read the passage a couple of times, reflected on parts that stood out to us, asked questions, and talked with one another. We grappled with many phrases and ideas, sewing in our different perspectives. One of us grew up with Ash Wednesday their whole life and the other was being introduced to it for the first time. During our discussion, we read the teaching/explanation section from a study bible. For verse 8, the explanation reads: bones. The feeling of God’s displeasure, and of his favor, penetrates into the whole person.
The next day we began creating movement from a list of words in the Psalm. Mercy, blot out, guilty, purge, sustain, a burnt offering, broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart. I asked Trevor to close his eyes and absorb the word I said into his body, heart, mind – reflecting on how the phrase made him feel and what it reminded him of in his life. The process became him listening to me speak and then him naturally responding with movement from his bones, through his muscles, his nerves and skin. We worked for quite some time in this meditative space, our bones being endlessly crushed by God.
It’s good to be reminded we have the love of God as deep as our bones, crushed by our faults and then rebuilt by the love of our creator. It reminds me of a phrase from one of my favorite books written by Jesuit priest and founder of Homeboy Industries, Fr. Gregory Boyle: “Sometimes resilience arrives in the moment you discover your own unshakeable goodness.”
I know that Lent brings about a deep time of reflection, most of which can feel like a time that our weaknesses and deepest faults are painfully highlighted. During this time, I also hope to be reminded that in everyone’s bones lives unshakeable goodness, something that can never be taken away; and I hope that knowledge leads to rejoicing.
(You can watch the dance performed here: Crushed Bones Dance.)
*Megan Mary O’Brien is a dancer and educator with Repertory Dance Theatre (RDT) in Salt Lake City. She teaches and choreographs dance throughout the state of Utah and also is the Ministry Director at Missio SLC. Her father writes and edits a blog.
