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)


   

Who woulda thunkt??

I’m tired of reading - tired of sleeping - and yep - tired of being alone!! Two days only and I’m anxious to get back to ‘normal’, whatever normal is…

Surgery on Wednesday to repair a torn cartilage - and I don’t know which is worse - not being able to walk because of injury or not being able to walk because of healing - well, I guess I’ll go for the last option.

When I last wrote about ‘retreading’ I had no idea that I would be doing exactly that with my knee. Coincidence? My last day of serving the congregation before retirement and the first day of mucho discomfort in my knee?? Dis- ease has a way of forcing us to stop - slow down - and I guess the Holy Spirit knows better than I that unless forced to do so - I’ll make excuses. There is a lesson here somewhere in this transition between not well and well, in more ways than one. A time to heal physically - and a time to heal emotionally & spiritually. A time to reflect and a time to discern what might be next - another chapter opening, another first step on this journey that is my life - another ‘Yes - send me.’

But in the meantime I’ll be consoled by the fact that I am now on one crutch instead of two!!

To Do or Not to Do

A recent posting on the Sojourners website

(SoJoMail@sojo.net), by Cathleen Falsani was titled ‘Doing Nothing for Lent.’ She recounted her experience listening to Eugene Peterson talk about his decision as a parish pastor to ‘do nothing’ - to just ‘be’ a pastor and not have to prove anything to anyone- but especially God and himself And I got to thinking…………… 

To do nothing - to just be… I guess it depends on how you define ‘doing. Taken to an extreme, this would seem to be an impossibility. Even at rest our bodies are still doing what bodies do - heart pumps, lungs contract and expand, blood flows through our veins, the stomach is noisily processing breakfast, the neurons in the brain are snapping… well most of them anyway. Thoughts are crashing through the brain at an endless pace… some we can pull out of line and think about - the rest go on their merry way without us. And if for some reason something hurts - our attention is focused there - pain always gets our attention.

So ‘doing nothing?’ not hardly. However, maybe Falsani & Peterson really have given me something top think about.

This ‘retirement’ thing for instance…. Re-tire- ment - as in retreading tires (yeah - like for trucks). Here is what Wikipedia has to say about re-treads:

A retread, also sometimes known as a "recap," or a "remould" is a previously worn tire which has gone through a remanufacturing process designed to extend its useful service life. Retreading starts with a safety inspection of the tire. The old tread is then buffed away, and a new rubber tread is applied to the bare "casing" using specialized machinery.

Retreads are significantly cheaper than new tires…”

Sounds like retirement to me. Re-moulding for further service, a way to extend the useful; life of a tire - or in this case a person. When I first entered ministry a friend commented that she was really impressed with the way I continue to recreate, reinvent, myself. ( and she meant this is the most positive way) Continually looking for new ways to grow, to serve, to be. (I kinda feel sorry for people who have been in the same job for their entire lives - same old same old…)  

So I think that is where I am now - a remanufacturing process ( a.k.a. discernment) with the idea that something new will emerge - ok, so think caterpillar to butterfly, or do you prefer Phoenix rising from the ashes? Whatever - chose your metaphor..

I think my point is that even in our ‘not doing’ something is still happening. Maybe we have made a conscience decision to not do a particular thing - to not be busy for the sake of busy - but that does not mean we are in a state of non-existence. God is still working in us - behind the scenes if you will, our bodies are still doing what bodies do - like keeping itself alive - maintaining what scientist call homeostasis - if our bodies are out of whack we cannot even then do this thing we call ‘not doing.’ 

And so even this state of just being is a doing, albeit not what contemporary society would call productive work.

But God, (I don’t think I’m putting words in God’s mouth) doesn’t require our constant doing for the sake of busy. God is content, I think, that we just are - and so that is my challenge - and yours I suspect - for this season of Lent. The season that is a significant transition point in the cycle of the church. This season that is a full stop and rest in the melody of our lives. Let our bodies do what they do, let God do what God does in each of us and for all outward appearances, we can just not do and just be…

Water Water Everywhere

(This should have been posted last week, but alas, it wasn't!!)

I first learned to swim at about 7 - or maybe 8. I don’t think I was afraid of the water - but I do remember numerous ear infections from the overly chlorinated water - or maybe under chlorinated, who knows. I think I even enjoyed the freedom of being in the water knowing that 1) I wouldn’t sink and 2) getting away from my little sister who was also learning to swim, but taunting her with my expertise...

I can remember playing in the puddles after the rain - in spite of mothers admonishments not to - “you’ll get dirty!” Well isn’t that the point?

Bath time was a treat - Gramma was the bath giver - and it was always fun.

Saturday night ‘bath’ night - and popcorn - only Daddy could make it right - and my sisters & I got to share an entire bottle of Coke while we watched TV. Yes - black and white and maybe only one channel!….go figure………..

But those were happy times, most of them...........

Fast forward to high school and mandatory swim lessons - dog paddling in place for 2 - 3 minutes - maybe more - swimming laps, staying submerged for what seemed like an eternity - just to prove to the instructor that we could - AND to get that coveted ‘pass.’ Back in the day we had to pass gym and swimming in order to ‘pass’ high school….baggy green cotton swim suits and ice cold water notwithstanding (fortunately it was an all girl’s class!!) - it had to be done.

So maybe it’s no wonder that water and watery places hold a special place in my heart - the ocean shore - whether rocky and or sandy, it doesn’t matter. And there are as many different rocky and sandy shores as there are grains of sand…..

Rivers rushing and tumbling over rocky beds, smoothing the harshness of the boulders to a soft and soothing stone for my pocket. Quiet canals as still as glass - so still God can count, again, every hair on my head. Oceans of vastness as far as the eye can see. So many colors of blue that even God must get dizzy just thinking about it all. Snorkeling at the Barrier Reef is a lesson in the majesty and artistry of God - who else could make fish of many colors (Joseph would be jealous) and those shapes? The most imaginative among us couldn’t come up with any of this on our own.

Lakes large enough to get whipped into a frenzy or small enough to walk across. Have you ever stood in the headwaters of the Mississippi? A seemingly inconsequential puddle, if you didn’t know where to look for it, you’d miss it altogether.

The pond in front of our house is coming to back to life - waking up after a winter’s nap. The geese are back, but so is the green stuff growing up from the bottom - the frogs will breed and it won’t be long before the edge of the water will be thick with black tadpoles. The turtles will be sunning themselves after a hard day of playing hide and go seek with their eggs. They hide - the raccoons seek.

No matter where we travel - there is a significant body of water somewhere close by (actually every body of water is significant - just ask those who live there…) Water that is refreshing, healing, cool sometimes warm, always full of life. But least we get too sentimental, it is also a harsh force - death and destruction are just as possible as the healing. God made a promise once upon a time - no more total destruction by water - but sometimes it seems as if God is playing it pretty close to the edge.

Water. We and all of creation need it in just the right amount. Too much will kill us and not enough will taunt death.

So maybe that is why it is so fascinating - that juxtaposition of life and death - as if it were a game - surely we will win?

As I write this - the water falling out of the sky has changed from rain to hail to snow within about 20 minutes. So it’s not just the liquid water that we hold in awe - but snow, ice cubes to cool our summer drinks and icicles to arouse our imagination, sleet, hail, steam. Mountains made of ice that are thousands of years old - and the one in a trillion snow flake that disappears the moment it touches your outstretched tongue……

Our scriptures talk about Jesus as the living water but there is dead water too. Water so full of salt that nothing will live there… Water so thick with salt you could almost walk on it. Dead water - full of the poisons that get flushed out of our houses, chemicals that are needed to make the things we need and want - dumped unceremoniously into rivers and lakes - poisoning the very earth that God created and said was ‘good’ - well not any more it ain’t.

No wonder water is a wonder - it runs the gamut from Awesome and Full of Life and Healing and Soothing and Majestic to Deadly - and Dead.

Even Jesus - the Living Water for all of creation - death that brings life. Fortunately that was not the end of the story - dead Living Water resurrected - infused with new Life- so that we too might be refreshed, our thirst quenched, and live.

Reflections

I took this photo of the Briare Canal in July of 2011.  It is about 1 1/2 hours southwest of Paris.  Lent was a long way off and certainly not on my mind last summer.  But Lent is, among other things, a time of reflection....a time of listening....So be still, my friends, and listen....... 

I read somewhere recently (I can never remember where I read stuff) that Lent is not about us - but about God. It is not about how much we can give up - or take on - but what God is doing in each of us. And I think I like that idea - it sorta of takes the pressure off - it means we ( I ) don’t have to prove anything - I don’t have to work at getting God’s favor - I can just be… and yet that is probably harder than giving up or taking on.

This retirement thing??? Today is the first day that I don’t have anything planned to do - nothing noted on my  calendar. I could have stayed in bed all day - or at the least stayed in pj‘s all day - the dogs don’t care… I could even have skipped the shower - again - but no I didn’t do any of that. I tell myself that I am ‘in discernment’ waiting to hear from God what I’m to do next… so far just mumblings….. nothing very clear…………

So - God - what are you doing in me today? Maybe it’s this:

"Lent is a liberating reminder that I'm not stuck. Because God speaks in new voices and in unexpected ways, change can come. Renewal is possible. And in the ultimate Christian mystery that awaits us a few Sundays from now, even physical death leads to resurrection life. "(From Journey with Jesus, for Sunday March 4, 2012)

So rather than struggling to find my voice - maybe I just need to open the ears of my heart…

Maybe that is what Lent is all about anyway - opening up to the mystery, splendor and majesty of our God…
(cartoon courtesy of Google)