Hands

Four worship services in 2 days is by no means a record - nor unusual.  But in 4 services a lot of people come forward to receive communion - it is at the core of our worship.  For some reason during service #3, I noticed the hands -  not just “oh here are so and so’s hands - but really looking at them.  And I was humbled.

Hands that were 89 and 90 and 95 years old, spotted with age, knarly knuckles, hands bent into unusual shapes by hard work and arthritis…  hands that have a history,  
And then there were the hands of some of the women, perfect manicures, polish fresh and shiny, a counterpoint to the paper thin skin that betrayed their age,                                  
And then there were the farmers hands, large and beefy, the dust that we will some day return to still embedded under their nails,            
And then there were the mothers hands, holding squirming babies and toddlers, trying to juggle the small wafer and their children’s quickly moving hands that wanted to touch everything,
And then there were the youth, the twixt and teens, preadolescence and 20 somethings.  Young hands, some still plump with baby fat, some slender and graceful, some with nails chewed to bits, polish chipped, rarely perfect, hands with a future.

But in spite of all of the differences, they all had one thing in common.  Hands open to receive the life source - needing the bread/body of Christ, needing to soak up the life giving wine/blood.  Some hands wide open with left cupping right, curled into cups or flat out like a plate, some hands with fingers open as if to pinch the wafer out of the air, but all open in receiving.  It was humbling to see that need and pure joy to be able to fill it.

4-26-12

The Dogs did it to me again…………..

I was feeling guilty - I’d been in the house almost all day working on one thing or another and the pups had been patiently hanging out in their usual spots - I was also stiff from sitting most of the afternoon (it was sermon writing day) - and so I figured a walk around the pond was in order. As soon as the shoes and jacket are on Rocky knows what’s up - and he is at the door spinning like a whirling dervish knowing (or at least assuming) that we will go O.U. T. for a W.A.L. K.

The air was cool and crisp but the sun was warm and the 2 sweatshirts were a bit much - but oh well. I got as far as the open garage door - and there sitting patiently, (or maybe in fear, I don‘t know) was a toad - the first I’d seen this season. I’m sure that if I hadn’t opened the garage door, the unfortunate being would croak - no pun intended…

So I gently persuaded him/her to move to the grass and on to safety. Walks with the dogs always require sticks and so they get picked up as I go along - Rocky drooling over the prospect of catching yet one more…Vespa, however, has her nose firmly and deeply in the grass as she walks, more concerned with what is infiltrating her Kingdom than sophmoric things like catching sticks….

We walk up over the dam of the pond startling the wood ducks that are quietly minding their own business - but I know they’ll be back. A lot has happened around the edge of the pond since the walk yesterday and Vespa is making sure she gets all the mail, and then leaves some of her own. This is her turf doncha ya know…

As we walk I notice that some of the flowers are already past their prime and (of course this is only April) some have not even begun to think about budding out. The day lilies are not yet ready - but what a show when they are! The weeping willow tree is enormous after 16 years of being rooted so close to water, branches elegantly sweeping the ground, a perfect place to sit and watch the world go by - either in it’s lap at ground level, or in it’s majestic arms. Even in my dotage I can still climb this one……….and I do (but not today). Geese have nested here in the past and the raccoons and muskrats have left their marks here as well… and of course Vespa knows all this. But today nothing to get worked up over.

A short game of catch the stick - with Rocky it is dance - sky - catch and he does it well, it’s his favorite game… we‘re on the peninsula (the pond is U shaped) with plenty of room to roam for both of them - and I can let Vespa off the lead.. no nut trees here for the squirrels to hide in, or for her to chase to her physical detriment.

As we come around to the street side of the pond I notice that the 2 trees that guard the overflow are dead… and need to be cut down - one more thing on the to-do list. But there are spring woodland wildflowers growing here - planted by You-Know-Who. A rare treat indeed. A slow walk up the lane now, we’re almost back to the house - and what do I see in the lane but a dead toad, apparently squished by a car… not too far from the chipmunk den in the lane.. S/he is a brave one that monkeychips…

As I get closer to the house I walk around the flower beds that in my youthful exuberance I planted years ago… They pretty much take care of themselves now - hyssop, gladiolas, woodland sunflowers, spiderwort, Ohio and otherwise, columbine, poppy, peony and hosta and daylilies and who knows what else… Oh yeah, the hickory tress that ‘plant themselves’….where they don’t belong?? (says who?, but that‘s another pondering…..)

Toads dead on the ground, trees no longer vibrant, broken branches from the last wind storm strewn about like so many pick-up sticks, flowers spent of their very life, the carpet of pine needles under the wall of evergreens on the west side of the pond, pine cones fallen, burping up their precious seeds…death………..

Woodland flowers with brilliant Crayola colors, hidden in plain view, the stately weeping willow dancing in the breeze, toads hopping to who knows where, ducks making a mad dash to safety, geese, when they are there, squawking their adversaries away, life………… and it is good.

Life is birthed from death - we know that somehow in our innermost being - we know that.………But it is always a surprise and revelation when it is in plain sight in front of us - in front of me that is….

Isn’t that what Resurrection is all about?

Happy, glorious, wonderful, magnificent, earthy and death defying Easter Season my friends…………

Reflections #3

Stream of consciousness again - here goes nothing………………………

It felt so good to be back in the pulpit - 3 worship services in 2 days and not a bit tired. Think I’m gonna love supply - no, the relationships with the people aren’t the same but the appreciation in honest - and I guess I like feeling needed. And while I know that it is in service to God that I am doing all this - I like the warm fuzzies that come with it……………

…and so I’m sitting at the dinner table later today - the sun is streaming in through the windows and sliding glass doors and playing cat & mouse on the floor- the sun was brilliant today - clear air - sharp - crisp. Anyway the sun is reflected on the floor - and there are edges between the sun and the shadow. My sermon this morning was about reflection- reflecting on the empty tomb and the Christ that is and isn’t there ….

And I was reflecting…. Shadows aren’t the same as darkness - you can’t see anything when it is very dark - but you can still see in the shadows - not as much and not as clear, but still … but that sharp line between sun streaming and shadow simmering along side it, there is an edge. Kinda like the edge of understanding…

Kinda like where the disciples where on that day that Jesus appeared to them …they weren’t sure what they were seeing - a ghost? Jesus? Really? Seriously?

Well yeah……………….ghosts don’t eat and drink and we know Jesus did that a lot…with everyone, especially all those ’unimportant’ people - and even us - yes Jesus eats and drinks with us and feeds us with his very self.
The disciples were teetering on this edge of understanding - but eventually came around to at least believe - maybe they didn’t understand, but they did believe.

And maybe that’s where we are too, not quite understanding what this Jesus dude does for us, but believing nevertheless………………..

Is that good enough?? Well, for some it has to be: belief and faith are a mystery - neither are founded on facts or knowledge - but what we feel to be true- it is more about using all of our senses: sight, touch, smell, hearing. We see Jesus in our fellow brothers and sisters (well maybe sometimes) we touch Him when we reach out to others or they to us, we smell the clean air and the flowers and the raw earth, the doggy (ok, or kitty!) smell of our favorite animal companion, or we hear the words of scripture or song lyrics that resonate with us somehow. Or maybe it’s the presence of a friend at just the right moment in time………….

Reflecting - we do it all the time, sometimes without even being conscience of it.. We are always evaluating and trying to figure things out. But until that ‘something’ is reflected back to us we can’t see it - like we can’t see our own faces unless they are reflected back to us in something shiny. We don’t see Jesus unless He is reflected back to us at the edge between sunlight dancing on the floor and shadows playing cat & mouse.

Reflections on empty

Yup -  Friday the 13th -  but alas and alack, no black cats or teetering ladders or broken mirrors - just reflections.  A reflection is a mirroring of something that we can’t otherwise see. For instance - unless we look in a mirror or shiny surface, or the still water of a pond, we cannot see out own faces…  They must be reflected back to us in order to be seen and known.   So when we ‘reflect’ on an idea, a word, a thought, an event, we have the opportunity to ‘see’ something that was otherwise unknown and unseen - out of sight. We are able, often, but not always, to learn something new.   And as far as I know only humans have the ability to ‘reflect’ as in to think about something and ponder it’s meaning…( animals can see themselves in still water but I don’t know if they know what they are seeing…)


There are a number of books with this title, covering everything from investments to meditation to how to do card tricks.  But I’m more interested in the meditative quality of reflection……………..particularly scripture.


 In this season of Easter our reflection(s) are (hopefully) centered on the big question: ‘What’s the resurrection got to do with me?’  But even before we tackle that, ‘What about the empty tomb?’ 


How do we reflect on something that is not there?   How do we think about something that for all intents and purposes doesn’t exist anymore? 


Well. I’m glad you asked. 


For those of us  who profess the Christian faith, Jesus does still exist, he didn’t disappear as in a puff of smoke, and this is not about funny mirrors at the summer carnival.  He showed himself to the women, several disciples, Cleopas and his companion, he ate fish,  walked and talked.  Even helped his disciples with their fishing then had breakfast with them on the beach.  Tough  to do if you don‘t exist.  Pharaoh may have had magicians, but Jesus wasn’t one of them…


Resurrected - brought from death to new life -  that’s what it’s got to do with me and you. A new way of being in the world.  A new way of being in community, fellowship, a new way of walking and talking, a new way of living because Jesus did our dying for us.  And that empty tomb?


“Have you seen Jesus my Lord? He’s here in plain view.  Take a look, open your eyes, He‘ll show it to you.”(Jesus My Lord, by John Fischer)


How does that reflect back to you when you look in the mirror?  
(I took this photo of a doorway to a cave that is still in use, carved in a hillside, on a small island in Greece.)

Too Much Of A Good Thing?

Serenity and tranquility  - can  we ever have too much?  Last week we went to southern Indiana for a couple of days - stayed at the Clifty Falls Inn in Clifty Falls State Park.  Very nice - a pool, hot tub, balcony overlooking the Ohio river with tugs and barges on the go 24/7. Oh - and then queue in the numerous hawks circling, letting the wind currents lift them higher and higher before showing off in front of our balcony - just because they can.   Serene indeed - not to mention walks (hobbles) to the various falls for which the park is named…sparkling sun on the falling water, roaring and tumbling and canyons full of so many shades of green that even Crayola couldn’t keep up.  So what’s the problem?   Aside from the fact that my knee kept me from actually hiking, hobbling, yes - hike, no, it was a relaxing couple of days.  But my brain was on shut down.  No creative spark to write, no desire to do too much, ( eat, nap and read the latest novel) which is ok.  It’s called rest. And Sabbath. And that’s ok - but it was almost as if my mind had gone numb from too much of a good thing - too much tranquility and serenity.

Too much of a good thing makes us (me) complacent - with no push - no shove -  no desire to DO.  Unless you call sitting and watching the hawks doing.  Unless you call admiring the handiwork of God doing.  Unless you call the over-indulgent cupcake at 2:00 in the afternoon doing!! (there actually is a store in Madison, In. that sells nothing but gourmet cupcakes!)  Unless you call leisurely dinners and breakfast at the local café doing….

But no sooner did I get home than my brain started to go into overdrive thinking about all the things that ‘needed’ doing……………   So maybe the answer is no - there is no such thing as too much serenity and tranquility because I think we instinctively know when we have had enough and the memories of those quiet times will carry us through to the next adventure in not doing……………….or the lure of the triple chocolate Oreo cupcake sends us on another mission……………!
(photo courtesy of www.in.gov)