Truth

A colleague shared this in another forum, but I liked it so much, I thought I would post it here. It is from Rachel Held Evan's blog. Check out her site, it's awesome.

Here's what Rachel has to share today. I'm not sure how she managed to get inside my brain, but she did. She wrote it all down with much more eloquence, but everything here is so relevant....

Dear Pastors,

Tell us the truth.

Tell us the truth when you don’t know the answers to our questions, and your humility will set the example as we seek them out together.

Tell us the truth about your doubts, and we will feel safe sharing our own.

Tell us the truth when you get tired, when the yoke grows too heavy and the hill too steep to climb, and we will learn to carry one another’s burdens because we started with yours.

Tell us the truth when you are sad, and we too will stop pretending.

Tell us the truth when your studies lead you to new ideas that might stretch our faith and make us uncomfortable, and those of us who stick around will never forget that you trusted us with a challenge.

Tell us the truth when your position is controversial, and we will grow braver along with you.

Tell us the truth when you need to spend time on your marriage, and we will remember to prioritize ours.

Tell us the truth when you fail, and we will stop expecting perfection.

Tell us the truth when you think that our old ways of doing things need to change, and though we may push back, the conversation will force us to examine why we do what we do and perhaps inspire something even greater.

Tell us the truth when you fall short, and we will drop our measuring sticks.

Tell us the truth when all that’s left is hope, and we start digging for it.

Tell us the truth when the world requires radical grace, and we will generate it.

Tell us the truth even if it’s surprising, disappointing, painful, joyous, unexpected, unplanned, and unresolved, and we will learn that this is what it means to be people of faith.

Tell us the truth and you won’t be the only one set free.

Love,

The Congregation

(*photo credit to Ian Britton)

Presbytery - a marathon in Marathon

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Our four-day meeting is taking place in Marathon - a town along the Lake - and yes, it feels like a marathon. Yesterday we got to church at 8:15 and the day's business ended just after 9:00 pm. Breaks in there for food, stretching etch. but oy, that was a doozy.

Now, back to it for plenary and more of the theme presentation on Racial Justice.

See ya later. First, coffee. Intravenously please. ;)

Blessings and stuff...

This morning's shared service went well, all things considered. We are SUCH a diverse group of United Church people. Actually, we represent fairly well the uber-wide scope of theological perspectives found within the UCCan.

Our guest preachers were (as always) simply excellent. They speak truth with such ease and clarity and with bright humour, which is so very important. The music - meh. A little too "Old 100th" for my taste, but who am I, right? Whatever...

Children's time - well done by one of the youth of that congregation. Sunday school a great success by all accounts.

I co-presided at the communion table, stressing again (as the preachers had already done) that not only are we sharing our table today with churches all around the globe, but that our table is an open table - spread for all who wish to partake.

Then the bread and the cup were lifted, and the serving began. I quietly asked my colleague "Where are the children?" She tried very hard not to roll her eyes as she said "I think they might be receiving their own communion downstairs, but I am not sure." (She's a brief interim for six months and this is her first full month). Back in the day when that was my church, the children came up from Sunday School and were served first. Something significant has clearly changed since that time. I was appalled.

Open table, my arse. But again - who am I to say what another church likes to do? On the other hand, one might at least tell your guest presider that "open" doesn't really mean "open, open" - it really means, open to some but not others. (It turns out the children did not receive downstairs, which really breaks my heart.)

Better news: Our Blessing of the Pets service was cool, weather-wise, but lots of fun. Here's a story told by one of our guests at the service while we waited for the others to arrive:

A woman brings a duck to the vet's office and the vet says, "Your duck is dead." The woman just can't accept it, saying the duck is just in a coma. (Insert Monty Python joke here) The vet says, "Well, other animals are the best judge of an animal's health. So the vet brought in a big dog - a labrador retriever. The dog sniffed the duck, shook her head and walked out of the room. The woman still wasn't convinced, so the vet brought in a cat, who also sniffed the duck and left the room. "Ok, said the duck owner, I guess the duck is actually dead. What do I owe you?" The vet said, "$60" The woman was appalled. "Sixty bucks for that?"

The vet replied, "Well it would have been less without the lab test and the cat scan."

And.......scene.

So Much More...

I've been reading some of Pema Chodron's work lately on the recommendation of a friend. Pema is a Buddhist teacher with a lot of wisdom to share, some of it I can agree with, some of it - well, not so much.

I was reading her thoughts on Theism which she calls an addiction. Um, I don't think so. Nontheism, she says, is simply relaxing into life's mystery. I part ways with her there. I believe the deepest person of faith can believe in Holy Mystery who is One and All - Creator, God, YHWH, whatever name you happen to choose(none of which come close to approximating the wildness and wonder of it all). In other words, what she considers Nontheism does not, in my mind at least, exclude God. I don't have any problem understanding God as Mystery. Or, to put it another way, I am able to understand God as non-understandable. I'm okay with that. What I need to know I'll find out on the other side of glory. Until then, I try to live faithfully and with the loving-kindness that Pema writes about. I guess that's where we agree.

Don't get me wrong, she has some really good things to say about meditation practice and letting go of our illusions of control. She just seems to give the occasional sideways jab at faith in general. For example, she refers to most seekers of religious practice as those looking for a grand "babysitter" who is going to come and make things allright in the world.

To be fair, she also says that we use materialism, alcohol, pills, and anything else we can find to escape the reality of life, which is that we will all die. She spends a fair bit of time in her first book "When Things Fall Apart" talking about the damage that our death-denying culture has caused to so many people. I agree with her here entirely. However, even in times of grief, I don't see people of even marginal (Christmas and Easter folks) faith turning to God as a panacea that is simply replacing the scotch that will come later at the wake.

An example: A young couple in front of me at the Phoenix airport had a BUNCH of luggage. She looked to be about 18, he was possibly 20. Neither struck me as either materialistic or attached to wealth. Just regular folks. I can't put my finger on why I made that particular observation - just a gut feeling I think. They held on to each other as they made their way through the line to the baggage check.

Sure enough, they were over the weight limit. The nice gentleman at the counter said it would cost them $90 to put the fifth and final bag on board. The young woman asked her boyfriend/husband if there was anything they should take out and put in their already full carry-on bag. The young man said, "No, I don't think so." The man behind the counter asked "What's in the heavy bag? It's going to cost you to load it onboard."

The young man took off his ball cap and said, "Everything I have left of my mother is in that bag. Mostly pictures and stuff she saved for me. I'll pay the $90." The young woman said, "We were just in town for her funeral."

Pause.

Airline guy says, "Here's what we'll do. I'll put a shipping sticker on it. That brings the cost down to $50. Just go to the shipping area when you arrive to pick it up."

My hand was already reaching into my bag for the $50, when the airline guy whispered to the couple quietly, "Forget the charge. I'm sorry for your loss." As the couple (and me) wiped away a few tears, they were on their way and I was checking my bag.

There is just no way in my lifetime that anyone is going to convince me that Holy Mystery, our God and Creator, was not walking with those two young grieving people in front of me. No one will convince me that a greater power was not at work in that airport that day. Something beautiful happened, not because of some made up Babysitter god, but because we find the One True God in each other if we're paying attention.

The God of all Mystery and all Wonder is so much more than we can imagine. So much more...

RevGal Friday Five: Bucket List

Singing Owl has had a rough week and had her mind on the "bucket list" - you know, those things that you want to do before you kick the bucket, so to speak.

It's a timely question for me actually. A lot of my previous bucket list items have already been done. Here are a few:

* Get a University degree. Bachelor of Arts 1995, Master of Divinity 1998. Done. And Done.

* Publish. I wrote for three years for a preaching journal called "AHA!" It was published by Wood Lake Books in British Columbia. I wrote a weekly lectionary commentary for them and enjoyed that work a great deal. The same material was also online for those three years on Wood Lake's Midrash site. It was fun to have deadlines to meet and an editor to work with on the material. The publication of AHA! ended in 2005, but it was good while it lasted.

* Sing. For whatever reason, I spent my entire life believing that I couldn't sing. It was part family myth (ie that no one in our family can sing - I would beg to differ - I bet we all can), part insecurity, and partly the result of a mean primary school teacher. In any case, I sang a solo in church the second year that I was at LCotC. I sang Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" (with some fine guitar back-up provided by Black Pete himself) and you know - it was good. Really good.

* See the Grand Canyon. See the post and photos below.

* Run. See below #4. In 1999 I ran our local 10 mile road race.

* Go to Disneyworld with the boys. Done. Tons of fun. I would go back in a heartbeat.

There are more, but as you can see, I've already managed to fill part of my bucket list already. Here are my five top remaining "Bucket List" items, not in any particular order:

1. Dance with my sweetie. Come on you researchers, you experts in stem cell biology, you geniuses of science and technology - let's make this happen. Seriously, I think we can beat MS in the next few decades, then we're going dancing.

2. Go to a NASCAR race. You knew that one was coming, right? I'd love to see a race at Bristol, but really any of them would do, except those winding road tracks in California and Mexico. Those just aren't my cup of tea. I like a nice oval.

3. Visit the Iona community. As much as I dread another round of jet lag, I would love to go to Scotland to spend some time at Iona. I feel oddly drawn to that place, even more than I do to the Holy Land. I don't think I'll know why until I go there. Someday. Maybe.

4. Run, Walk, or Cycle for a good cause. I'm thinking about the MS bike ride, or the 3-day walk for breast cancer, or - dare I even say it? - a run for diabetes (half or full marathon). The last running I did was ten years ago. I wasn't very good at it. Some bodies just aren't built for long distance running and mine seems to be one of them. On the other hand, I am in excellent physical shape for someone of my *ahem* age. I'm actually at a better running weight now than I was ten years ago, so who knows????

5. Preach that One Perfect Sermon. I'm a good preacher and I really don't feel boastful saying that anymore. There is a difference between boasting and simply knowing what you were born to do in life. I am a preacher. I've offered up some good sermons and some dogs, but even those I've always walked proud. :)

Still, I'm waiting for that one really really good sermon that ticks every box and fills me up with that feeling that this is the sermon - the one that has been working its way out of me for a lifetime. The one that the Spirit takes hold of and lets it fly where it may, sending me home thinking "Yup, that's the one." I'll be sure to let you know when that happens. In the meantime, any sermon that doesn't make me want to jump off a bridge (to use Cheesehead's fine words) will have to do.

The Grand Canyon and Sedona

After the closing worship (which was wonderful) at the Big Event in Scottsdale, seven of us headed off in two vehicles to see the Grand Canyon. It's not much of a drive really, especially in comparison to getting anywhere from where I live. So, off we went.

One vehicle (not mine) made a side trip to Winslow, Arizona. Of course, you know WHY they went to Winslow, Arizona right?



Awesome. To my fellow travelers, let's see some pics from the corner, 'kay?

Our car made another stop. We went to see the Watchtower. Here are some pictures:

Looking up at the Watchtower...


One of many, many views of the Canyon from the tower:


Another view. I walked up the spiral stairway up to the very top. The view was spectacular. There was even a bit of water in the Colorado River below us. This is one of the lower observation areas...


We arrived at the GC in time for a glimpse of the sunset before a lovely dinner. Our accommodations were lovely and literally steps from the South Rim of the Canyon. Thanks Mompriest for making the arrangements. This is what we saw on our way to dinner...



And then *drum roll* the next morning at 5:30 am - yes - that's early, some of us got up to watch the sunrise. It was amazing. Even at that unsavory hour.





That morning we walked along the South Rim (around 1 mile, I think) and took plenty of pics, each one more beautiful than the next. The colours were astounding.



Then it was on to Sedona for a delightful lunch and more pictures. Most of mine have anonymous bloggers in them, but here is one that just shows the town and the gorgeous mountains surrounding it:



Back to Phoenix, where I spent a night at a hotel near the airport. It was very swanky by my standards. I enjoyed a quiet evening and went to bed early after a very full, but very fulfilling weekend.



Funny, but I remember thinking that the church was only paying for the educational event itself, but somehow the side trip after it all was equally educational. Just seeing the sheer beauty of God's creation reinforced the need for all of us to protect and honour Mother Earth. I suppose there are lessons to be learned everywhere we go, from everyone we meet, and from every sight we see.

BE 2.0 Re-Entry

No, I was not on an Apollo mission, but the word "re-entry" has been on my mind all day. I returned home late (very late) last evening and have had considerable difficulty trying to convince my body that the clock on the wall is actually correct. This could be another long night. It is SO bizarre to feel tired and yet so unable to sleep. Clearly I don't get out much...

Anywho, I was away for a week in Scottsdale AZ hearing about the "Daughters of Miriam" - women prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures. Our excellent key note speaker was the Rev. Dr. Wilda Gafney, the book's author and an Episcopal priest and Associate Professor of Hebrew and Old Testament at The Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia.

She rocked. She had a great sense of humour and now stands as the only woman I know with feet smaller than my own.

I spent the first night in Arizona with dear friends in Mesa - THANK YOU!!!!! (you know who you are :)) We had a lovely lunch, shopped a bit and enjoyed a quiet evening - exactly what I needed after a busy Lenten/Easter season. Be warned however - your place is so great that I may just show up on your doorstep next winter and I'll be like a bad rash you can't get rid of. Just sayin'....

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Thanks also to the organizers of BE 2.0 - I know it is a huge task and was mostly done via email. Thank you to my RevGal buddies, y'all are a great bunch to hang out with and learn from, despite my lack of knitting prowess. (Did you notice how well I used "y'all"? And I only caught myself saying "eh" a few times, so it was a banner year for me. I was dropping "eh"s all over the place at the past two Festival of Homies.)

A special thanks to those of you who hung around the campfire on the last evening despite reports of snakes and spiders. As we sang, talked and laughed, I felt the Spirit dancing her way through the night and all the way up to the stars. And truthfully, I really never did locate the Little Dipper. Astronomy - not so much my thing. Still - it was a beautiful night and all of the stars were incredible, especially those of the RevGal variety!



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But I digress...

Here are a few shots of the retreat center where we stayed:





As the only Canadian in the group, I felt it was something of a sovereign duty to be the ONLY one to go for a swim in the lovely pool. It was refreshing, but hardly cold.



One afternoon, we had a bit of free time and headed into Old Scottsdale.



I learned about Geocaching from a few experts in our group. Fascinating and quite possibly addictive. I'm thinking that a BE in Canada could involve some very interesting International Geocaching...



Naturally, one must stop for lunch and refreshments. We ate at a place where I had my first experience of ACTUAL guacamole, made right at the table. Deeeeelish.



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Yes, we actually did our study time too. At times, my brain was fighting against the tide of information coming our way. It was all good and interesting material, but my poor wee brain at times felt the overload of the season. I know that I did the best I could do and brought home much to share with our congregation. I know that we all did. This group of old friends and new friends are now and evermore shall be the official membership of BE 2.0.

And the people said in one voice: Amen!



(Tomorrow I'll post the pics from the Grand Canyon and Sedona - they are incredibly beautiful)

The Wall

Someone I know completed a marathon recently. It was his first and he had done his research, as all good runners ought to do. He knew that at a certain point in the race, his body would tell him "Enough already. Stop. Now." Runners call this "hitting the wall" and the key is to run through it. It usually happens around mile 21 of the full 26.2 (or 40km) mile distance. Why put your body through all that pain? The answer is clear....by that point in the race, you're so close to the end that it would be foolish to let a little lactic acid build-up stop you from completing the race, right?

I'm not a runner. I ran a 10K once, back in the day, but now I walk mostly.

But here's the thing about lactic acid. It turns out, it's been getting a bad rap all these years. According to Rick Morris the same lactic acid that used to be blamed for fatigue and hitting the wall is actually beneficial and necessary to the body. He says:

Our muscles produce lactic acid, but they also use lactic acid. Many studies have confirmed that approximately 75% of lactic acid is removed from our bloodstreams through oxidation. That is, it is converted to energy and used to fuel our muscles. The remaining 25% is cleared by conversion to glycogen which is used to produce further energy. So, as you see, lactic acid is far from a “garbage” dead end by- product. It is an important cog in the mechanisms that fuel our running activities.

My point?

Those of us clergy-types who have hit The Lenten Wall right about now might have something to learn from marathon runners. Our mental, physical and spiritual lactic acid is far from a dead-end product that slows us down and brings on a pre-Easter crash and burn. It has the potential to fuel the rest of the journey to the cross.

Lift high those legs friends. We're almost there.

Open now the crystal fountain,
whence the healing stream doth flow;
let the fire and cloudy pillar
lead me all my journey through.
Strong deliverer, strong deliverer,
be thou still my strength and shield;
be thou still my strength and shield.

Baptism by Grief

I've always told people that I wasn't baptized until I was 16 years old. Officially, that is absolutely true. My future father-in-law baptized and confirmed me at that age, the same year I found my way to the United Church. Well, really, to any church. I had very little exposure to any church prior to that time, though I do remember a very hot day in a big city west of here where my cousin was married in a church. A very big, very hot church.

Anyway, I found out something interesting and profoundly touching this past week. One of my mother's dearest friends from back in the day told me something I did not know. Or, at least, I knew part of the story, but not my part of it.

She has always told me how much she appreciated my mother's friendship and kindness to her, but I had not heard this story. It turns out that my mom's friend experienced a stillbirth two weeks before I was born. Two weeks. I had no idea.

She told me that many of the other moms on our street stayed away from her, almost as if her tragedy was contagious. It was 1959 and half the block was probably expecting, but unfortunately, Mom's neighbour was isolated in her time of grief. Isolated, that is, until Mom delivered me, came home and walked across the street with tiny little Sue in her arms. Mom's friend said that my mother's simple act of knocking on her door and asking if it was okay to come in made so much difference that she could hardly express it.

After a few weeks, Mom's friend asked if she could hold me. She said she cried and got me all wet with her tears, but it went a long way to helping her grieve her lost baby. No one else other than my mother had allowed her to grieve. She had been told by her doctor and others to "move on" or "have another one". My mother just knocked on the door carrying a newborn and asking gently if she could sit for awhile and visit.

As I was hearing this story, my eyes welled up and I realized that this woman's tears had baptized me long before I ever realized it. Could there be a truer baptism than the salty heart-wrenching tears of a woman who has lost a part of her being?

I can't think of one.

Past, Present, Future - all held in tender balance

We had our Annual Meeting today. It was good. It was like the other seven I've had at LCotC - filled with plenty of appreciation and recognition for the saints in our midst who work hard to keep our little church afloat year by year.

There are some who grieve the good old days when the church was full to overflowing and we had to rent extra space for the Sunday School. I understand their grief. I feel that hurt for the whole church and every mainline denomination in it. Those were days when Sunday worship did not compete with sports, stores or over-scheduled families. Those were days when everyone who was anyone went to church. It was just something people did. Of course there are folks who want that back.

The reality of the present is so very different. As a denomination, it could be fairly said that we are a committed remnant church. The numbers aren't there, but the depth of commitment and faith truly are. I've never been a "butts in the pew" kind of minister. I would rather have a small group of interested, engaged worshipers than a thousand people who simply want to be entertained by a band with drums (not that I have anything against drums, of course). Rather, it has more to do with me than with any congregation or denomination - it is simply my preference. That said, the smaller the numbers, the smaller the income, the fewer programs, etc. etc. - I understand all that. I continue to struggle with the best stewardship of our present reality. Sometimes it feels a bit like juggling knives.

There are some who say our future as a church lies in appealing to a certain age demographic. The Emerging Spirit campaign is aimed at helping 30-45 year olds become interested in church again if they haven't been around since their confirmation, or getting them acquainted with church if they've never been there at all. From where I'm sitting, the campaign hasn't been overwhelmingly successful, but my range of vision is admittedly limited to my own congregation and Presbytery.

I came away from today's meeting with a bit of that "Why can't we all just get along?" feeling. We're the United Church. We come from Presbyterian, Methodist and Congregationalist roots, all of which need to be respected. And yet, there comes a time when we need to step forward as One - truly One church - led not by our past associations, but by our present identity as a church that has room for a wide spectrum of theological and ideological perspectives.

Five churches on one end of town.

We need two - maybe. One would probably do if we worked out the details carefully.

Why can't we all just get along? Just long enough to make something really amazing work for God's realm?

Just some thoughts...

Testing the Waters

This gradual return to work thing is complicated. Not in a bad way, just complicated. As of next week, I'm hoping to increase my hours - we'll see what the doc has to say, but I think it will fly. I am ready.

How do I know?

It's so intangible, it's hard to pin it down. I just am. And once those hours are increased and I test it out for awhile, I'll know if it's too much. I know the signs now. I am so much more self-aware (thank you Wonderful Therapist). I know that I am called and have been set aside to do a particular kind of ministry in the church, but I have not been set aside to do ALL of the ministry of the church. Huge difference between the two, right?

I know, and now have seen, that the ministry of the whole people of God actually works. My congregation not only survived, but thrived, during my absence. That doesn't mean they didn't miss me, or pray for me, or care about me - it simply means that they know what God has called all of them to do and be together as the body of Christ in our community. I've seen that community pull together in the past few months since I've been back on limited duties.

This is the first weekend that I need to prepare both Sunday worship and a Monday memorial service. I can do it. I've done it for ten years. But I haven't actually done it since this time last year. I have a bit of that rookie feeling going on, but mostly I just feel as if I'm stepping onto very familiar, but very holy ground.

The joys and the sorrows of ministry are the joys and the sorrows of life itself. What a privilege it is to stand with people whom you love, whether it be on the mountaintop or deep in the valley. To be invited there is sheer grace.

I'm stepping a little deeper into the river this weekend, filled with the profound knowledge of God's presence and a sense that my feet are firmly planted in the riverbed, ready to be what God calls me to be, ready to do whatever God calls me to do.

Believing

Some days are just like that. They call us to account for what we believe and what we don't believe. Today is one of those days.

I believe:

* that each of us is a child of God, beloved unconditionally.
* that pain and joy are a part of every life.
* that pain can break a heart, but not so much that it cannot be touched by the light of God. (Bringing to mind Leonard Cohen, who so eloquently pointed out that it is the cracks in all of us that allow the light in)
* that God asks only for our faithfulness, not our perfection.
* that sometimes when we feel helpless in the face of a mountain of pain - death, illness, loss, poverty, hunger, oppression and so many faces of human suffering - God did not make any of it happen.
* that God sits in the muck and mire of the human condition and cries with us.
* that God will stay there with us for as long as it takes for us to heal enough to step out of the muck.
* that only the Spirit can truly inform us of when to take that first step back into life after loss.
* that those might be baby steps.
* that anyone living in the muck may not be able to see God at all.
* that faith communities are called to make sure that those who feel only God's absence are aware of God's presence - in them. In a hug, or a card, or a cup of tea. God is there.
* that it is possible to hurt for someone else without breaking your own heart. It's hard to do that, but it is possible.
* that prayer works. Not to "fix" situations of unthinkable pain, but to invoke the presence of the Holy where it is most needed.

What I don't believe:

* that God "tests" anyone.
* that God only gives us the level of pain we can cope with. That's pure nonsense. If that is true, I don't want to be so strong. I don't want the people I love to be that strong.
* that God "takes" people when the time is right. I do believe that when we die, God is there with arms open to welcome us, but I don't believe that God causes death. Only life. In abundance.

That's what I'm thinking about this afternoon, as gloomy as it may be. It is what it is. If you're so inclined, I would ask you to please pray for all the people in our little church who are hurting today. The mountain of hurt got a little higher today and the candle on my desk is burning for all of them - just to let in a little light.

Monday Advent Retreat

Over at the RevGals site, there are three reflections for a Monday Advent Retreat. Have I mentioned lately how much this circle of friends has carried me and inspired me over the past few years? Well, if I haven't, I've been remiss. I need these reflections today more than I can say.

Thanks friends.

First, these words from Kathryn:

So these words are for us, too.
“Do not fear…. Here is your God”
Whatever happens to the ephemera around us, that is something we can rely on.
May we keep God as the focus as we prepare the way for his coming to each of us at Christmas.

Then this from Songbird:

But perhaps being scattered and disturbed means leaving those assumed comforts behind. God’s joyful world to come is not about malls and sales or success and victory. God’s joyful world to come will disturb us, as surely as a baby’s cry wakes us in the night and demands our attention.

For Reflection
1. What demands your attention in this Advent season?
2. What in your life needs to be scattered by God's arm?
3. What brings you joy?

For Prayer: Scattering God, disturb us with your joy that we might share it with others in this Advent season. Remind us of the courage of a young woman who said "yes" to you, a young woman who understood the way you desired to change the world. Help us to be agents of that change, we ask in the name of the one for whom we wait, Jesus Christ. Amen.

And finally, a reflection from our dear Juniper:

For further reflection
The angel advises Mary not to be afraid. What do you think were some of Mary's feelings in her conversation with the angel? How have you felt when you've become aware of a new call from God?

Imagine beginning each day with the prayer "let it be with me according to your word." How might such a prayer alter the rhythm of your days?

After Mary hears the news from the angel, she goes to be with Elizabeth, an older cousin. Can you think of other women who have mentored or sheltered you?

What is God calling you to give birth to in this advent season?

Prayer
Mothering God, Source of all that is, embolden me to welcome your angels at my windowsill, however surprising their news. Give me the courage to ask questions, the wisdom to follow in your way and the tenderness to receive the care of others. Amen.

A lot to ponder on a winter Monday. My day's work is done, so now I have some time to reflect. Thanks everyone for the questions, the challenges and the thought-provoking reflections for today.

Strength in Weakness

In my denomination, the Moderator's term is three years. Our Moderator, David Giuliano, is coming to the end of his term. He has spent much of his term living with and receiving treatment for cancer. It has been such a difficult (to say the very least) time for such a wonderful man. But, true to David's character, he has sought to learn and listen for God's word for both himself and the church during this time.

David has written Postcards from the Valley: Encounters with Fear, Faith and God. His wisdom is a gift to the church. Here are a few excerpts from the news release about the book:

The book features a collection of David Giuliano's previously published
articles and more recent writing, including his regular blog postings on
WonderCafe.ca, the United Church's public online discussion forum. It is
both a personal reflection on his journey toward the heart of God and
the journey being made by many mainline churches.

"I dreamed of leading our church for a time from a place of strength,
wisdom, and creativity. Instead I have been offering my weakness to the
church," says Giuliano. And although he admits this journey is not one
that he would have chosen, "I cannot deny that it has been a gift to me
and to others."

Giuliano's book invites readers to reflect on fear, faith, joy, and the
encounter with the Holy One in their own lives and within the common
life of the church.

"Personally, this journey through the valley has been a source of
deepening my experience of the presence of God and of the Way of Jesus,"
writes Giuliano in the foreword to his book. He describes the journey as
a breaking open of the heart that has been an unwelcome and unasked-for
blessing.

For the church, he says, his "wound near the temple" has become a lens
through which he has tried to speak to the woundedness of our temple.

"As a community we are learning about the 'valley of shadows' after a
history spent primarily on top of the world. We are experiencing
tremendous change and loss as a community. The church we have known and
loved is dying," writes Giuliano. "Death is always part of
transformation. We don't know where it will lead, but we do know that we
no longer claim special authority and place in our culture. For a long
time we rode a great white charger. Now we are learning to ride the
donkey. There is confusion, denial, and pain, as well as hope, in our
body. I think we are closer to Jesus."

The bold print is my own. David's words resonate so profoundly with me and "fit" with the church as the body of Christ in our world.

This one's on my Christmas list for sure.

Sunday Spa Day

We had a full, rich, at times chaotic, but wonderful worship this morning. We ran out of bulletins. I LOVE it when that happens. First, that means people have to share and sharing by its very nature is a good and Christian thing to do. Second, it means we have a full church. I think we printed 75 bulletins, so we likely had around 90 in church. Remember, we are the Little Church on the Corner, so that's kind of a huge day for us. Woot!

We had a baptism which is always wonderful. The same Mystery that hovers at the Table is so profoundly present at the Font. I'm never sure if anyone else is sensing it, but for me it's unlike any other experience I've had. It's an ineffable shift in energy that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I think it has something to do with the connection to centuries of God's people gathering around water and grace and beauty, but my brain is too numb to articulate it any better than that...

Anyway, I got a ride home (thanks to privacybug!) and gave my chauffeur a tour of the new digs before she headed home. Pillar had run a hot bubble bath for me, lit some candles and made me some tea and lunch, so I soaked until I pruned up nicely, then had a bit of a nap. I know - you're all shocked - "What??? Sue napped on a Sunday afternoon???" - yeah, whatever. Some habits are hard to break. And nappage is an important part of Sunday for ye olde introverted me.

Speaking of ye olde - I've discovered that I now need to take a pad and paper to the back door with me after worship is over. Too many people tell me too many important things on their way out the door, and honestly, without the pen and paper, I forget more than half of them. This aging thing is just more interesting all the time, isn't it?

If you're still reading, you will begin to see that this has indeed been THE most boring afternoon that chez Oz has experienced in a long while. But that's okay. It's just what I needed.

Advent Conspiracy

Hat tip to Cathy at Grace Notes and of course, Juniper.

I love this. Can I really do it? Can old customs really be replaced with new ones? When I think of all the families in our region who don't have the luxury of asking that question, I am so deeply humbled. When I think of all the families who will simply have to do without this year because of job losses and recession, I feel indulgent and privileged to have a choice to make about how I "do" Christmas this year.

As my colleague and friend Gord would ask: "How Then Shall I Live?".

Monday Ceiling Cat musings

Go here for luke's Christmas story like you've never heard it before. Srsly.

Feeling all schmaltzy...

...and working on the sermon.

For your listening pleasure:



In this world I walk alone
With no place to call my home
But there's one who holds my hand
The rugged road through barren lands
The way is dark, the road is steep
But He's become my eyes to see
The strength to climb, my griefs to bear
The Savior lives inside me there

In Your love I find release
A haven from my unbelief
Take my life and let me be
A living prayer, my God to Thee

In these trials of life I find
Another voice inside my mind
He comforts me and bids me live
Inside the love the Father gives

In Your love I find release
A haven from my unbelief
Take my life and let me be
A living prayer, my God to Thee

Take my life and let me be
A living prayer, my God to Thee

Study Leave

Long before I began med leave, our Board at LCotC approved this week as study leave for me. Since I began at this church seven years ago, I have taken this week to prepare services for Advent. Today I need to get to work early and stay with it.

I would also like to go for a walk. I think better when I'm walking.

Things to do:

1. Pick a theme. Done. (Hat tip to Gord!)

2. Write liturgies. Not done. This is where I shake my fist at the heavens and wonder why we UCCan folk have to re-invent the wheel Every. Single. Sunday. The RC's and Anglicans? Easy - turn to page 89 and follow along. Why people? Why? On the other hand, I've written some darn good liturgy in my day, so who knows - I may come up with something brilliant.

3. Write communion and baptism liturgies to be re-used. A colleague has done this in her church and it's a great way to conserve paper. On communion Sunday, they simply hand out the booklet with all the communion and baptism liturgies in them, and direct folks to the correct one for the day. It's a shorter version of step #2, but it does save on paper, and makes tons of sense.

4. Music. No problem. Meeting with Musical Director Extraordinaire later this week.

5. Liturgical dancers. They meet this evening and will decide then if they can fit us into their schedule for the Advent season. They usually do. The dancers LOVE coming to our church. They appreciate the freedom of creativity they have in our space that they don't always find in other denominations.

6. Get to work. Just let me finish my coffee, and I'm good to go.

Have a great Monday all.

Some Assembly Required

I have been working on a project with a friend for several years now. The completion of that project was approaching. Not tomorrow, but within the next year or so. It was something entirely separate from my ministry, and the fruition of it would have been the culmination of a dream.

It isn't going to happen now.

I put so much of myself - heart, soul and countless hours of work - into this project. And it's just gone. Just a week ago, the damn thing was ADVERTISED [ETA: with my name on it by the way]. And now it's gone.

Gone.

What do you do when a dream explodes with a single phone call?

I wish I could feel more positive about it all. You know, learning experience and all. But the truth is, I worked on this project through excruciating pain when I could have been taking better care of myself. I thought in the end it would all be worth it.

Joke's on me, eh? At times I tried to convince myself that the distraction was helpful. Maybe it was. Maybe not. Mostly I just feel like a chump. If you're wondering, no, I don't have a legal leg to stand on. I put my trust in the wrong place and had no contract in place.

Believe it or not, I thought yesterday was a bad day. There is a bit of confusion around my gradual return to work and it was a bit upsetting. Ha! Little did I know that the paperwork crap at the church would end up being the small stuff that isn't worth sweating.

This week sucks.

I feel hurt. Broken.

But, as Pillar reminded me, and as EBS reminded me during my trigger point injections, I'm tough. I'll get through it. I will re-assemble another dream and go for it.

Anyone know of a good DMin program? Maybe it's time for some more academia. The bonus about DMin degrees is that the student needs to be in congregational ministry. Maybe it's time. Maybe that would begin to re-assemble what has been so horribly broken.