Dona Nobis Pacem

Easter Morning

2011-04-24T00:50:00.002-05:00

Morning dawns. The tomb is empty.

Light from dark. Hope from despair.

Joy from sorrow. New life from death
.
Resurrection.

His throne awaits at the right hand of our Father.

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Photo: St. Etienne Cathedral, Cahors, France
March 2, 2011

Easter Art and Music

2011-04-23T07:15:00.000-05:00

I've been away from St. Timothy's and my faith community for both of the holiest celebrations of the church year...Christmas and Easter. Being on my own, though, has made me dig even deeper to find ways to connect with my faith. I've used online resources to keep me in touch spiritually....retreats, devotionals, study groups. Yesterday I shared praying the Stations of the Cross with Mary. Today, I prayed the Stations with another web-based Jesuit community called Pray As You Go. Each of the 10 Stations are illustrated with a piece of Renaissance art and beautiful sacred music along with a Jesuit contemplation and prayer. It's interesting to me that I was touched differently by these two different websites. Each, though, was deeply meaningful. This Station called "The Good Thief" was my favorite on this site.

Stations of the Cross With Mary

2011-04-22T05:42:00.000-05:00

This year my Lenten discipline has been to "Pray Lent" every day with the Creighton University Online Ministries site. Although not Episcopalian (Creighton is a Jesuit Catholic university), the liturgy and lessons are similiar, and I've been comforted, challenged, and inspired by these daily devotions. Lent is over. It is now the Holy Days of the Paschal mystery. Today being Good Friday seems the right time to pray the Stations of the Cross.This year I've chosen to pray them with Mary, Mother of Jesus. As a mother, to see the crucifixion of Jesus through Mary's eyes has been a powerful and moving experience for me. What mother can't relate to the feelings and emotions she must have had as she watched her beloved son mocked and scorned, beaten and finally crucified unto death? I invite you to pray the Stations with Mary. Click here to access the Creighton site.

"Opus Verbi viriditas"

2011-02-09T13:54:00.000-06:00

My favorite 12th century Christian mystic, philosopher, and abbess, Hildegard of Bingen, coined the word 'viriditas' to describe her belief that God's Living Water, the Word, greens the soul making it moist, fecund, and saturated with His love. This greening of the soul connects it deeply with its sacred source. Greening the earth with His holy rain, God brings us to awareness of His presence in all things. "Opus Verbi viriditas" the work of the Word is greenness.

The beautiful song "Water, River, Spirit, Grace" sung by Trish Bruxvoort Colligan and used by gracious permission from River's Voice. Please check out their website...Richard and Trish are talented songwriters and musicians.

The Breath of God

2011-01-28T02:34:00.001-06:00

I'm in the midst of an online class entitled "Praying with the Elements: Water,Wind, Earth & Fire." The first element we've explored is Wind. Wind is the physical manifestation of the Breath of God which created us all, which surrounds us and sustains our lives. Without Breath/Air/Wind, we cease to exist. How much I take for granted this life-sustaining gift from God! The Divine Presence in the Wind is life giving and inspiring, or it can be the whirlwind of life's storms and sorrows. In all forms, though, it is God-With-Us. Occasionally, the Breath takes a visual form like these puffy, wind-inflated clouds over Cadrieu. Sometimes it can be seen in swirling leaves, billowing sails, or soaring birds. Let yourself be reminded each time you see such images that this, indeed, is the Breath of God cradling you and making your life possible.

As I read Christine's book that accompanies this class, there are many Biblical and scholarly references to wind and the Breath of God. My favorite (for today anyway!) is from Theophilus of Antioch:

"God has given to the earth the breath which feeds it. It is his breath that gives life to all things. And if he were to withhold his breath, everything would be annihilated. His breath vibrates in yours, in your voice. It is the breath of God that you breathe--and you are unaware of it."

Be aware always; God breathes in you.

Here Lies the Son

2010-12-25T02:37:00.001-06:00

It says..."here lies the son." It's a niche in the wall that surrounds the village church. The son's name isn't completely legible because of the lichen and grime that accumulates on this old stone. Today we worship at the manger where another Son lies. This day is full of wonder and glory and joy. You can't help but be excited about this birth or about any birth, any child lying in his crib. A new life ready to go forth and make his mark in the world. It's truly a joyous occasion. But as we know the story only begins in that manger so many years ago. So while we celebrate its beginning, we also must always be aware of where it ends...with the cross, with death, pain and humiliation, and finally with resurrection.

"Here lies the son..." today he lies in the glory of his birth! But in the days and years to come, he will lie in other places, places not so loving or so safe and protected. Let us always celebrate his beginning by also honoring where the story ends.

Choosing to Say Yes

2010-12-19T09:14:00.000-06:00

It's the 4th Sunday of Advent, and I've been watching and waiting and preparing for a month. Finally, I can begin to celebrate Christmas! Part of my preparation for Christmas this year has been participation in an online Advent workshop called "Birthing the Holy." During Week 1 we were challenged to 'Awaken' fully to Advent and consider what it means to be truly awake to God in our lives. Week 2 we began 'The Journey' to the holy. Last week we considered the 'Darkness' in our lives and how moving into darkness prepares us for moving into the light. This week the theme is 'Saying Yes.' How important it is to say yes to God when He opens a door for us or asks something of us! Even if He asks us to do something scary or opens a door into the unknown, the answer must be yes. Think of it... if Mary had not chosen to say yes to God, would we even be celebrating this wondrous season? Oh sure, God could probably have found another virgin teenager about to be married to an older man she hardly knew who was willing to be pregnant out of wedlock and carry His child. And then watch that precious child be mocked, humiliated and crucified by people who once adored him. But God didn't ask that other teenage girl. He asked Mary and she chose to say Yes! Inspite of the humilation, the fear of rejection, and the pain, she said yes to God. And the rest, as they say, is history...Biblical history, at least. If Mary was courageous enough to make this choice, can I do any lesswhen God asks? Choose to say yes. If you need a bit of encouragement, here's a 'Prayer for Choosing' by Jan Richardson:
A Prayer for Choosing

What we choose
changes us.

Who we love
transforms us.

How we create
remakes us.

Where we live
reshapes us.

So in all our choosing,
O God, make us wise;

in all our loving,
O Christ, make us bold;

in all our creating,
O Spirit, give us courage;

in all our living
may we become whole

You might enjoy her blogs: The Advent Door and The Painted Prayerbook

I took the photo of the Virgin in the Abbey Church at Conques last September.

Down to the River

2010-12-15T04:48:00.000-06:00

I was down to the river this morning just as the sun was peeking over the causse...

There I sang my morning prayer, accompanied only by the rustling of the dry, frosty leaves as the dogs sought out a frozen scent and by the silently flowing river carrying hunks of ice downstream.

A single voice, singing to God..

"By the Rivers of Babylon"

in the cold.

"May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Zion!"

Love at Christmas

2010-12-09T09:43:00.000-06:00

Love comes in many ways.

Love comes at Christmas as a tiny baby.

Love comes as a generous gift.

Love comes as a warm embrace.

Loves comes at Christmas as a tiny baby.

Loves comes born of theVirgin.

Love comes in a warm embrace.

The tiny baby held by God's loving arms.

Loves comes born of the Virgin.

Love comes as a generous gift.

The tiny baby held by God's loving arms.

Love comes in many ways.

I thought this might be a Christmas without a creche, but I was blessed with this one that came in the mail. Thank you, Lila! (and Randi)

Cold

2010-11-28T03:52:00.000-06:00

I live in an ancient stone house....

Up leaf-littered stone stairs....

Surrounded by a mossy stone wall....

Yesterday's snow lingers. This morning the river valley is blanketed in thick, heavy fog.

It is cold.

I plan my day around the cold. I stack wood, walk the dogs, sweep and clean to stay warm.

When I sit...to read, to write, to dream...the cold seeps in.

Multiple layers, fleece, a hat...and still it seeps in.

When I'm cold, I can only think about how to get warm

But not too warm.

Don't sweat, don't get chilled...that's even worse than just the cold.

People sleeping over the heat vents on the streets of Des Moines

Or huddled in tents in those make-shift campsites along the river.

Men and women wrapped in sleeping bags stretched out in the doorways of Paris.

Or along the Canal St. Martin in cardboard shelters.

The homeless. The clochards.

They are cold.

Mind-numbing, bone-chilling cold.

Cold that defines life...or death for some.

I light the fire laid on the hearth,

The logs crackle and burn.

I ignite the gas heater and roll it closer.

Its blue flames dance.

Instant warmth for me.

Who warms the others?

With God on Our Side

2010-11-22T11:32:00.002-06:00

I've blogged over at MelangedMagic about one of the unexpected pleasures of staying here at the Chatette...discovering new music in Laury's CD collection. The Neville Brothers have become my new favorites. This YouTube photo-montage to Aaron Neville's cover of the Bob Dylan song, "With God on Our Side," brought tears to my eyes. I think its anti-war message is powerful, as are the images, so be forewarned...a few of them are quite graphic.

My God is on the side of peace. Hear what the psalmist says in Psalm 46: 9 & 10:

9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.

10 ‘Be still, and know that I am God!
I am exalted among the nations,
I am exalted in the earth.’

Be sure to turn off the Dona Nobis Pacem music before playing the video!

Enriching Morning Devotions

2010-11-21T03:18:00.000-06:00

Whether I'm at home or here in France, I frequently like to enrich my morning devotion time with something beautiful. Sometimes I light candles; sometimes I meditate on a photograph I've taken of a sacred space such as this detail from the Cloisters at the St. Etienne Catheral in Cahors. Most of the time, though, I use music. It can be either sacred or secular...classical works are perfect. My only criteria is the music cannot be accompanied by singing unless it's not in English. I find I get distracted by the words of a song and don't focus on the words of Scripture. I know...I'm not very disciplined! This morning I set the mood for my devotional time with a CD by Paolo Lorenzani (1640-1713) an Italian-born composer who used rich choral arrangements with his orchestral scores to blend both the Italian and French styles of music during the Baroque peiod. The CD playing for my inspiration was a series of motets with titles such as "Dialogue Between Jesus and the Soul," "Antiphon to theVirgin," and "Litany of Our Lady." I could close my eyes and imagine myself sitting on a hard wooden pew in a Gothic cathedral worshipping with the faithful. For me, music, beauty, and light are all rituals that the Holy Spirit uses to enrich my time with God.

Do you enrich your devotions with any rituals? I'd love to hear what they are.

Walls and Portals

2010-10-21T09:21:00.002-05:00

The Canticle for today's Morning Prayer is from the Third Song of Isaiah....

"You will call your walls, Salvation,"

Cadrieu, France 2009

"and all your portals, Praise."

St. Cirq-Lapopie, France 2009

Hour By Hour

2010-10-11T04:39:00.001-05:00

Connecting spiritually in France hasn't been a problem; connecting to my spiritual practice, however, has taken me awhile. Just getting used to being in a new place with a new routine disrupted my practice of morning devotions. I wasn't able to pack my Bible due to its size and weight. I've coped by finding my Forward Day-by-Day devotions online and have used an online Bible site to read the verses indicated for each day. Before I left Des Moines, my friend, Karen, gave me her prayer book, 'Hour By Hour'. The small, slender volume fit perfectly in my carry-on bag. This little book helps me 'pray the hours' in the morning, at noon, in the evening, and at compline. It's been the tool that's been the most helpful in getting me back into a spiritual routine. While I don't think I can make weekly worship happen, praying both 'hour by hour' and when I hear the village church bells chime will keep me connected and grounded in God.Thank you, Karen, for being God's instrument in my life!

"By the Rivers of Babylon"

2010-10-08T04:42:00.003-05:00

I am captivated by this land where I am a sojourner...a temporary resident. I live on the banks of a river, the Lot, which flows eventually into the sea many miles west. The river defines this land: It sculpted the causse which has sheltered man in its limestone caves since prehistory. It provides a waterway for transportation east to west. Its valley produces food for its inhabitants. For me, this moving water is an anchor for my spirit. It is my 'river of Babylon' where I sit down to remember. To remember God's spirit that moves through this land and through my life. To remember to be grateful and give thanks to God for His many gifts and blessings. To remember friends, family and people of faith. But above all, to remember to praise my Creator for the simple beauty of this earth.

" By the rivers of Babylon—
there we sat down and there we wept
when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there
we hung up our harps.
For there our captors
asked us for songs,
and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying,
‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion!’ " Psalm 137:1-3

"How could we sing the Lord’s song
in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand wither!
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth,
if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
above my highest joy" Psalm 137:4-6

Traveling

2010-09-20T09:12:00.000-05:00

The next few days are going to be filled with last minute preparations for my trip and with the journey itself. My mind is abuzz with details, details. Already there have been some surprises and complications to contend with. Everyone says to me 'aren't you just so excited?' The answer is yes, of course, but that excitement is overlaid right now with the logistics of closing up my house and putting my business affairs in order for an extended length of time as well as the details of traveling with Lucie, renting cars, figuring out how to get from the airport in Paris to Laury's house. Throw in a France-wide strike on September 23rd and maybe you can understand why my excitement isn't bubbling to the surface right now. I predict that I won't truly feel it until I'm standing with Lucie in Laury's living room! Until my arrival in France, Dona Nobis Pacem will be on hold. Come back after September 24th for the 'rest of the story.'

Listen

2010-09-14T10:17:00.000-05:00

In the cool, dark pre-dawn, I sit at my table and listen to the fog and last night's rain condense into droplets that splat against the leaves of the big oak tree outside the open door. Crickets churr shrilly, a last chorus before sunrise. Close by in the creek bottoms, I hear the hoot of a sleepy owl...once, twice...four times. I'm reminded to be still, to be silent, to listen and hear God's silent prayer. A cow bellows; a crow caws for its friend. In the distance I hear a car wind up through its gears headed for work. Under it all, God's voice is there. Even through the world's daily business, it can be heard if I stop and get quiet, if I go inside and listen with my heart open. In the midst of crossing things off my 'to do' list, working through the final preparations for my trip, and worrying about things both in my control and beyond it, God reminds me that if I'll stop, be still and listen, I can hear his magnificence in the splat of a rain drop, the soft hoot of a sleepy owl, in his caw and his bellow. Listen!

Trust

2010-09-09T08:41:00.001-05:00

There's a line in a prayer attributed to Mother Teresa that says:

"May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be."

How easy that is to do and how hard! It's easy now; I'm in the midst of a great adventure, excited and full of anticipation for the future. How hard that was just six months ago as I sat here feeling stuck, forgotten and unheard by God. What happened between there and here? Lots of prayer, lots of perseverance, and lots of trust. I wasn't always successful in maintaining the tranquility of mind that I was exactly where God wanted me. I did my share of whining...both to God and to others. I admit I got tired of trusting. I wanted a sign, some action, something to let me know that God was working on my dreams or if not, then what His plan for me was. It all happened, but in God's time, not mine. Pray, persevere, and trust.

Rule of Life

2010-09-01T07:59:00.001-05:00

Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in us the fire of your love.

Piety...

Holy

Faithful

Love

Study...

Spirit

Hearts

Fire

Action...

Come

Fill

Kindle

"Only"

2010-08-22T09:25:00.000-05:00

I have a confession to make. I was scolded by a caller during my volunteer stint at the church.. It was actually at the end of the very first phone call I answered...what a way to start, huh? I was trying to locate some information for the woman on the phone, and I excused my slowness by saying "The regular secretary is on vacation; I'm only a volunteer, so please forgive me for being so slow." As we got ready to hang up, she said to me..."please don't ever say you're 'only' a volunteer; volunteers help run this country. Without them nothing would get done!" Point well taken! I've said almost the same thing to others when they demur "Oh, I'm not the doctor; I'm only a nurse" or "I'm not the principal; I'm only a teacher."

You are not an 'only' anything! Who knows what really important things God might be using you for? You're not 'only' a sign; you may be the sign God's using to point someone in a new direction. You are not 'only' a lay person; you could be the person God is using to make a stranger feel comfortable during first visit to your church. You are not 'only' a beginner Christian; the very first prayer from your lips might be the one that goes straight to God's heart to seal your life to Him forever.

And here's another 'only' to think about....as a unique and awesome creation of God, what is it that 'only' you in all your uniqueness and beauty, a perfect creation made by the Father...what is it that 'only' you can give to the world?

"I'm Coming, Lord!"

2010-08-18T09:40:00.001-05:00

Part of my commitment from the Cursillo weekend experience is to live my faith in piety, study and action during what is called 'the 4th day,' or the rest of my life. My most recent 'study' was reading the book "A Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything" by James Martin, SJ. In this book Fr. Martin tells a story about St. Alphonsus Rodriguez(1532-1617). St. Alphonsus was a Jesuit who served 46 years at the Jesuit College in Majorca, Spain. He was a porter, or doorkeeper. His job was to answer the door, receive visitors, deliver messages, etc. The story goes that each time the bell would ring, 'he would look to the door and envision that it was God himself standing outside.' Then as he ran to open the door, he would say, "I'm coming, Lord!" In this way he commited himself to seeing Christ in all people and treating each visitor as he would Christ.

I tell this lovely story to share with you what my Cursillo action is this week. I am volunteering in the church office while the secretary is on vacation. My sole responsibility is to answer the phone and help the caller reach the person they need...the rector, the pre-school director, the book keeper, whomever. Like St. Alphonsus I've dedicated myself to taking a quick second to declare "I'm coming, Lord!" each time the phone rings. Do I expect Christ to be on the other end of the line? No...but I do expect to see Christ and hear his voice when the caller speaks. And I will respond to each call as I would respond to Christ.

Monk Manifesto

2010-08-14T11:15:00.000-05:00

While my weekend Cursillo experience taught me about the joy of living in community, I am basically a monastic at heart. Quiet contemplation and solitude are what soothe my soul. Both Benedictine and Ignatian rules of life attract me with their balance of quiet, contemplation, hospitality, and action in the world. I love the structure of their rules. Benedictines sing the Psalms 6 or 7 times a day. Those following St. Ignatius 'examine' their lives daily to identify where God was present, thank Him for His blessings and ask for His grace in the day to come. They pray and meditate with vivid imagination. I read a blog called Abbey of the Arts written by Christine Valters Paintner who is a contemporary monk and a Benedictine oblate. She has challenged her readers to read and sign her "Monk Manifesto." I've not only signed it, but I'm also receiving her 7-day free Monk in the World e-course, a daily email with a reflection, a meditation and a prayer blessing. Although I can't live in this beautiful cloister at the St. Etienne Church in Cahors, I can live as a 'monk in the world' here at Red Bell Farm.

Faith

2010-08-11T08:40:00.000-05:00

A friend sent me an email yesterday with this reminder from Hebrews:

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."

The rest of the verses in Hebrews 11 continue to remind of the miracles worked by God through Abel, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Moses, and others...all because of their faith in things unseen, in things hoped for.

Faith in the Mystery.

Go...

2010-08-05T08:13:00.001-05:00

Outside the window the world waits. I've come to Christ. I've prayed and studied. I've worshipped and praised. The Eucharist has replenished my soul and any empty spots inside have been filled with God. Now it's time to live into the rest of the story. It's time to take God into the world, to live a Christ-centered life, to put my faith into action. During my Cursillo weekend, there were many talks that focused on action...what to do with faith. Some people I know do mission trips to Mexico or Africa. Others teach Sunday School, help with vacation Bible school, or are youth group sponsors. Some work in the church's outreach missions in domestic violence, the food pantry, or the faith garden. I've struggled with finding my action. What is the outreach that I am most suited for? What can I do in the world for Christ with a passion? There are many opportunities, but no clear choice for me.

Yet, every time I worship, I'm exhorted at the end of the service to: "Go forth to love and serve the Lord!" There's even a sign as I exit the parking lot that echoes this reminder...that I'm entering the world, my mission field.

Go forth to love and serve the Lord. How do you take Christ into the world? How has God blessed and empowered your action?

Come...

2010-08-04T09:48:00.001-05:00

"Come and see," Jesus invites in John1:39 and 47. Yes, come and see what Jesus is all about. Again in Matthew 11:28 he says "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens..." Again he invites. Part of my weekend at Cursillo was about this invitation. I was invited to learn more about Christ and living a Christ-centered life. I was given the tools to do this through piety, study, the sacraments, worship, song and prayer. I explored grace; I crafted ideals for my life and prayed them into reality. I learned to look through the wavy, opaque and convoluted ways of the world to see the crystal clear image of Christ beyond them. I relinquished control of my agenda and my world that weekend to come to Christ as my true self created by God the Father...vulnerable, open and willing. It's a simple invitation that we find so hard to accept....Come!

How Do You Say Love?

2010-08-02T06:00:00.003-05:00

We said LOVE last weekend at Cursillo by honoring and respecting Christ. The entire focus of the weekend's activities was to find Christ in all things and in all people; this became my focus and my mantra as well. Statues of Christ dotted the campus of the University; this one was my favorite. I love its clean lines and its simplicity. I want my life to mimic this image of Christ...clean, simple, quiet, surrounded by nature, sheltered by beauty. I honor Christ by setting him as my example and by following him as my way and rule of life. At our love feast on Saturday night, we respected Christ in our lives by seating him at our table, by making him our honored guest.

I seek Christ in all things and in all people.

Prayer Traps

2010-07-30T08:09:00.000-05:00

Along with the love letters I received during my Cursillo weekend, I also received numerous prayer cards, pocket crosses and coins and other Christian 'doo dads.' You see them here on my little Charley Brown Christmas tree that sits perpetually in my hallway. It was naked, so I clothed it in prayer reminders which we learned during one of our talks can be referred to as 'prayer traps.' They are reminders placed in strategic places that encourage us to pray. My tree is festooned with a purple lei that tells me Iowa Cursillistas are praying for our weekend, a tiny skateboard that says Jesus, numerous cards with Bible verses and inspirational thoughts, bracelets, a key chain, necklaces of De Colores, etc. Each time I pass my tree, I seek out one of the prayer traps and whisper a thank you to God for my many blessings. Another prayer trap I use is simply waking up. After I become conscious and before I get out of bed, I try to remember to thank God for the morning and murmur "This is a day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." My friend, Laury always lights a candle to her 'Merci Lady' in Cajarc, St. Cirq Lapopie, Cahors or where ever she finds her as a thank you for her many blessings. Do you use prayer traps to remind yourself to pray? How do you thank God?

Grace

2010-07-28T09:13:00.000-05:00

Grace.....

a vital and unending gift from God

unearned and undeserved

let me be a sponge to soak up God's grace

filled, let me spread God's grace to others

so I can be filled up once again by God.

Meditations from my Cursillo weekend.

The Fruits of God's Spirit

2010-07-11T19:43:00.002-05:00

Gentleness...the fruit of God's Spirit

Soft, a whispering pressure, a long purring stroke.

A breeze, not a wind.

A murmur, not a roar.

God--powerful, strong, forceful,

But more often, gentle.

His signs are not flashing neon,

But the muted pastels of an Impressionist painting.

He brushes against my skin,

His fingers softly tracing the paths He created--

Veins, bones, tendons, muscles;

I feel His presence.

He nudges rather than pushes.

God's gentleness soothes and encourages.

Like a mother stroking her baby's bare bottom,

God's gentle touch comforts and makes me feel

Safe, loved, a cherished child.

And as God gently loves me,

I will so love my neighbor.

Galatians 5: 22-23

"...the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy,peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control..."

Feed My Lambs

2010-07-06T08:08:00.000-05:00

A rough-hewn handmade cross blesses the site. Rows of flowers mark the southern boundary. Then row upon row of vegetable plants begin their march to cover 3/4 acres of what used to be St. Timothy's lawn. A small garden has bloomed into an ecumenical project at my church this summer. A parishioner plowed and tilled the bigger space; others came and worked the soil, sowed seed and dug holes for plants. The first crop was radishes, of course! And they found their way to hungry people. Peas came next...30 pounds at one picking. The 150 tomato plants are predicted to produce 2 tons of tomatoes. Volunteers from other churches in the area help weed, harvest and re-plant; it's become a real community project. There is discussion about our church partnering with the Cathedral downtown to process and can produce as that church has a huge kitchen and the ability to meet food regulations. It's a big deal, this garden project. It's a response to Christ's instruction to 'feed my lambs' found in John 15:21.

But it's even more than that. Most of the harvest from this garden goes to non-governmental agencies, i.e. churches and non-profits that serve undocumented peoples...the homeless and those in this country illegally. During my garden photo-taking session, I spoke with one of the garden's founders who told me that all the 'official' Des Moines and state agencies require two forms of ID in order to help/serve clients. This effectively eliminates both the homeless and those undocumented workers in this country illegally; they are turned away leaving it to places like the Eddie Davis Center and churches in the area to help. I've been haunted by this knowledge ever since I heard it. No matter what your political persuasion or how you feel about illegal immigration, no matter if you think being homeless is a matter of poor personal choices...if someone comes to you hungry and in need, you have an obligation to help whether they have the proper paperwork or not! Whether we decide to send someone back to their own country or back under the bridge to sleep, we should send them with full stomachs and maybe even a sack lunch for the journey. It's the least we can do to feed Christ's 'lambs.'

I Can See Clearly Now...

2010-07-04T12:03:00.000-05:00

This is what it's all about...now and forever.

Read about the glasses at Musings From Red Bell Farm.

The Parable of the Dog and Her Master

2010-07-02T10:07:00.001-05:00

I try to get Lucie and I out for a walk every day that it's not raining, snowing, sleeting, or so hot and humid that we risk heat stroke. As it gets deeper into summer, our walks get earlier and earlier to avoid both the heat of the day and as many mosquitoes and deer flies as we can. Today we were out by 8am. The sun was glorious, the sky was brilliant blue, it was still fairly cool with a light breeze. As Lucie scampered off ahead of me on the gravel road, I stayed ever alert for danger. Tractors pulling farm equipment, spray trucks, the county road grader, and an occasional neighbor heading to town are common on the road in front of my house. Lucie is usually pretty alert and stays out of their way, but still I worry and watch, calling her to me if I hear or see a vehicle coming. She sits, quiet and obedient, until the danger passes, and I give her the word that it's safe to continue. Do I give my Master the same respect? Do I trust that He is watching the road ahead for danger and will call to me if it approaches? And if He does call, do I answer, quiet and obedient?

As we turn onto the safer dirt road, I'm still alert. Are the neighbor's cows in their roadside pasture? Lucie is SO tempted by the mamas and the calves...especially the calves. They kick and run from her, and she delights in chasing them.While there is little danger from their tiny flying hooves, there is danger from the farmer who sees dogs chasing his cattle as a real menace to his livelihood. Cattle-chasing dogs have been known to turn up shot...not a fate I want for my precious doggie! So, I call to her sternly; I pull her away from temptation before she even gets started...and she obeys. Does my Master call out to me to avoid temptation? Can He see danger in things that look so fun and innocuous to me? Do I even heed His call?

I'm always amazed when I see Lucie absolutely ignore the most tantalizing things. She runs right past the big ol' frogs who plop into the ditch water when she passes. She gives no notice at all to the mama kildeer running along the road in front of her trying to lure Lucie away from her nest. Squawking and feigning a broken wing, she wants Lucie to give chase; Lucie could care less. Yesterday I watched as my doggie literally trotted right over a dead snake! Never even glanced down. I shake my head and chuckle, "what does it take, Lucie, to get you to notice things right in front of you?" Does my Master shake His head as well when I walk unseeing past signs He puts in my path? Does He sigh when I fail to see His beautiful creation splashed right before my eyes? Does He chuckle to Himself and wonder, "what will it take to get Evelyn to notice and respond to my direction for her life?"

We come full circle and back to the house; we walk about an hour. It's warmer now, and the coolness of the house feels good. Rain is predicted for the weekend. We may not get to walk since the conditions won't be right, besides I'll be busy with other things. Lucie will 'invite' me to go, sitting by the door with her tail thumping the floor, but I'll say no. What does my Master think when He invites, and I turn Him down because the timing's not right or I have other things to do? Lucie quietly retreats when her invitation isn't accepted, but she always comes back to invite again. I hope my Master will as well.

Glittering Images

2010-06-05T19:28:00.000-05:00

We've begun a summer book club at church with the intention of reading all six novels in the Starbridge series by Susan Howatch. The first book in the series is entitled "Glittering Images," and we met yesterday to begin discussing it. The story is set in 1930's England and revolves around the Anglican Church and its very human and imperfect clergy. While the story and its drama are captivating, the underlying messages are what intrigue our group. Glittering images, those false images that are presented to the world to gain approval, to protect the self or to gather power and control, are the real drama not only in the lives of the book's characters, but in our lives as well. I couldn't help think of this as I watched the Dr. Phil show Friday afternoon (yes, I confess, I've become a Dr. Phil fan. I watch Oprah as well...just shoot me!) Dr. Phil's guests were people who had made a lot of money, lived a very extravagant lifestyle and lost everything because of this indulgent life. One couple lost their home and were now living in a travel trailer in her parent's backyard. When they moved onto the property, the husband bought a $1000.00 gas grill and now insists he needs a $2000.00 watch....he really doesn't get it! What they said, tho, in answer to Dr. Phil's questions was that they spent money on 'toys' and parties and vacations with friends because it made them feel good to impress people! This seems like a 'glittering image' to me...a false self created by the love of money and the influence it has over others. Dr. Phil was just incredulous...'you'd rather have a watch to impress people than be able to provide for your children? I just don't get that.' And Ecclesiates 5:10-14 has this to add: "The lover of money will not be satisfied with money; nor the lover of wealth with gain. This also is vanity...Sweet is the sleep of laborers, whether they eat little or much; but the surfeit of the rich will not let them sleep. There is a grievous ill that I have seen under the sun: riches were kept by their owners to their hurt, and those riches were lost in a bad venture; though they are parents of children, they have nothing in their hands" How glittering images, false selves wreak havoc in our lives and keep us separated from God! Do you have a 'glittering image' that is hiding your true self?

The Parable of the Goats

2010-05-29T08:31:00.002-05:00

Yesterday as Lucie and I were on our walk, we heard a strange crying sound. We had heard it briefly the day before at the same place on the road. It sounded a bit like a child in distress. I immediately began listening closer...was it a child? If so, should I investigate? Could it be the youngster who lives up the hill in the old farmhouse? I began making my intervention plan.. Then I listened closer. No, not a child. Maybe an amorous cat? I could ignore that. Maybe it's one of the neighbors calves, maybe it's caught someplace. More thoughts swirled in my head. I started formulating another plan. As we turned the corner, I was still deep in thought, pondering next steps, when out of the woods popped a herd of little goats! Surprise! Lucie barked, I yelped, the goats bleated and cried before running away down the road. I quickly recovered my composure, grabbed Lucie, and soon the little guys came back to have their heads rubbed and to nuzzle for food. Surprise...that funny sound was goats! Who would have thought that? I'd never seen goats anywhere along this road.

Isn't life a bit like my goat story? You have a problem to solve. You ponder, you think, you worry and fret. You make plan after plan. You lose sight of the here-and-now because you're so engrossed in figuring out your issue. Then out of the blue....God surprises you with what He wants, His plan. His surprise is often better than anything you have even imagined. His surprise is always the right answer to the dilemma. Sometimes His surprise is simply a wake up call to remind you that you are not in charge here....He is. No one says you shouldn't work to solve problems or have goals to achieve. But the moral to this parable is you should always leave yourself willing and open to be surprised by God. What surprises does God have in store for you today?

Confirmation

2010-05-23T14:41:00.001-05:00

Today was the culmination of nine months of study for the 17 young people who were confirmed this morning during Pentecost services. You may remember a blog post that I wrote some months ago about being asked to mentor one of these aspiring Confirmands. Elizabeth assured me that I could do this; I was not convinced, but after praying about it and discussing it further with Elizabeth, I decided to take a leap of faith and give it a try. Over the past few months, Lexi and I have gotten to know one another and talked about how each of us came to be Episcopal and to St. Tim's, she knows my favorite color and I know hers, and we've discussed different ways to pray. She told me how the class tried various positions for prayer including laying face down on the floor and that everyone promised to keep their eyes closed so no one would feel self-conscious. I told her about Centering Prayer and she found that intriguing. We attended a worship service together at our local Jewish synagogue. I spent a Saturday in February with Lexi and the rest of the Confirmands and their mentors on retreat at Wesley Woods. Elizabeth was so right; I not only did this mentoring thing, I loved every minute of it. And no surprise...I feel like I gained so much from my time with Lexi and the other kids; gained more than I gave in fact.

Today I went to the altar and laid hands on Lexi with all her family as she was confirmed and received as an adult member of St. Timothy's. She did the hard work; I'm very proud of her. I couldn't help but write one last piece of advice in the card I gave her:

As you continue your journey through life, if you keep your eyes on the Light of Christ, you'll always find safe harbor.

Is God Pleased?

2010-05-15T09:50:00.001-05:00

My moment to ponder from last Thursday's study group came not from our lengthy discussion about social justice issues, nor from our intense discourse as we continued to delve into the story of the Prodigal Son. It came as I listened to one of our members speak about her recent trip to Italy. As she talked about visiting museums, cathedrals, amd the duomos of Rome and the Vatican, she recalled that someone in her group asked: "Do you think that God is pleased with all this lavish show of wealth?" I was immediately transported back to 2005, my first trip to Paris. I went with an opinion...that wealth should be spent on caring for the poor rather than on ornate, ostentatious Gothic churches. I based this on a comment I remembered from deep in my childhood. My grandparents had just returned from a trip to Europe, and my grandmother exclaimed that the Vatican should be ashamed of its wealth and should be using it to help the poor Catholic people of Rome! As I sat in the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, I remembered this comment while I gasped in awe at the beauty around me. Was there value to the poor in this beautiful place? Was God pleased that money and time were spent to create this beauty? My opinion is that God absolutely is pleased when anyone creates beauty in His honor. Why else would He have blessed mankind with the ability to create? My opinion is that God is absolutely pleased that even the lowliest Parisian laborer had the opportunity to work for God's glory during the construction of places like Notre Dame and Ste. Chappelle. My opinion is that God is absolutely pleased that His church becomes common ground for all people, all sinners whether rich or poor, titled or anonymous. As I wrote in my travel journal on September 18, 2005:

"....it moved my soul. Suddenly I 'got it;' the epiphany of why these early churches were so lavish and overdone. This was the sanctuary of the poor, the one place they could come & not only see the beauty of God's creation, but also find His presence in their otherwise miserable lives of poverty, hard work, and suffering. And their alms and work helped make this glorious place. I see the Church as a buffer, a meeting place to tone down the excesses and extravagances of the wealthy and provide beauty and sanctuary for the poor. I felt moved and privileged to share this great cathedral with the countless souls, both rich and poor of Paris who have worshipped here since 1163. As the people came forward for Communion..... I thought of the thousands who have come before trodding the millenium-old tiles seeking forgiveness for transgressions common to all of God's people, rich or poor. In God's eyes---all are equal."

Yes, I think God is pleased whenever people create beauty in His honor. I think He is pleased when each gives of his time or talent or money to produce that beauty. Were there excesses and extravagances in the Church? Absolutely....that's what the Reformation was all about. But in Paris in the 12th and 13th centuries, the Reformation was 300 years away; God was pleased.

Grace

2010-04-30T10:18:00.001-05:00

We had quite a lively discussion yesterday morning as our Thursday study group continued to tease apart the story of the Prodigal Son. As discussions often do, ours became wide-ranging and a bit off track. At one point, Elizabeth asked us to consider God's grace....what grace means to us. That question brought back the very clear memory of a similiar discussion several years ago in a Methodist adult Sunday School class. The topic was grace and the workbook we were using explained the three types of grace: justifying, sustaining and prevenient. This made made no sense to me and actually pushed me onto my current path of making sense of God in simpler ways and by simpler definitions. I Googled grace this morning and found even more confusing defintions of it: actual grace, common grace, free grace, irresistible grace. Too complicated for my simple mind! So, I ponder....what does grace mean to me? My answer: grace is my awareness of God's presence in my life. It can be seeing this cross in Cenevieres and remembering God. It can be hearing the bells calling villagers to Mass and remembering God's call to me. It can be that feeling of contentment as I snuggle into bed at night knowing that once again God has blessed me this day with family and friends, home and health, warm sunshine and green growing things. I am aware that His grace surrounds me always; that all I am and all I have comes from Him. And that I don't have to earn His blessings...to have His grace in my life, I only have to be aware that I am His.

Living Into Relationship With God

2010-04-20T08:24:00.000-05:00

I"ve been thinking a lot this past week about my invitation to live in relationship with God. We talked about this in the Thursday morning study group: how God invites us through Christ into a relationship with Him. Of course, I accept this invitation and feel blessed by it. But...what exactly does a relationship with God look like? My wonderings took me to the various relationships in my life. I have casual relationships with people in my community, i.e. shopkeepers, the postmaster, the guy at the gas station. They are based on respect and being cordial. I have friends and acquaintances; those relationships are based on this as well adding a sense of caring, some common interests, being friendly. I have a handful of deep friendships that take this even further with compassion, the love of agape, support, acceptance. Familial relationships run the gamut of the love of siblings, parents, children, and grandchildren....unconditional love, loyalty, feelings of wonder and joy, support that elevates to "I'd do anything for my child, parent, brother, granddaughter." Family relationships tolerate the messiness of life and celebrate the pure joy of being together. Family relationships that tolerate dissent and disagreement; that at the end of the day are relationships that gather everyone around the table to share in a common life.

So where does a relationship with God fit in? I think this snippet from John 21:1-19 that Mary preached from last weekend gives me a clue: "That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. Yes, exuberant Peter ran to the Lord! But being eager for this spiritual relationship is not the clue. We all know that often Peter didn't 'get it.' He was so human...just like me. He denied, he was ashamed, he felt unworthy. So he felt he had to 'put on some clothes, for he was naked' before he approached his Lord. Peter illustrates what takes a relationship with God far beyond even the unconditionally loving relationship we have with family...it asks us to let ourselves be naked and vulnerable before God, to strip away all the false selves, the defenses, the wants and desires of the world that we surround ourselves with and come to God as His precious child, His creation. To accept that God loves us just as we are, without our 'clothes.' To know that He, unlike anyone else in our lives including family, is totally trustworthy, always loyal, ever present. To accept that God knows us like no other, that with Him we don't need excuses or defenses; that with Him we don't even need words. Relationship with God is love and compassion, unconditional love, joy, community, acceptance and support. And it goes far beyond those things. It asks us to be in relationsip with God totally stripped and vulnerable, knowing we are safe within His care.

Now...the Rest of the Story

2010-04-15T13:49:00.000-05:00

Easter Sunday has passed. We've walked through the times of hosannas and the times of sadness. We've supped with Jesus, broken bread, and washed feet. We've watched him be flogged, crucified, mocked...then laid in the tomb. The Cross is empty and so is the tomb. The Easter story has ended. Or has it? As Easter people, our story is just now beginning. We walk away from the cross and out into the world. Now is the time to live the rest of the story as Christ taught; to love God and to love our neighbors. I like to think this fisherman that I saw along the Mediterranean coast last September was starting out on his journey to 'fish for men,' just as Christ instructed his disciples. Christ has invited us into a relationship with God, the Father. Now is the time to accept that invitation, to leave Easter and live in relationship with God in the world.

The Road to Easter

2010-04-06T08:24:00.000-05:00

I've spent the past two days pondering the road I walked this year to Easter. For the first time, I'm not planning my life around a work schedule, so I took this opportunity to plan my life around the Holy Week services at my church. I attended and read at the "Journey to the Cross" service on Wednesday. I participated in the Maundy Thursday service. Good Friday found me at the "Stations of the Cross" service at noon and then back to church at 7pm that evening for Tenebrae, a service of readings and music. As that service ended, the altar was stripped bare, all the candles were extinguished and the congregation left in darkness and silence. Saturday night I returned for the 8pm Easter Vigil. Again with stories and sung liturgy we were moved through the Easter story. Then with great fanfare....trumpets and glorious music by the choir... the altar was redressed, the candles were lit, the lights came up, we were blessed by sacred incense and purified by sprinkled Holy Water. Easter arrived....Alleluia! We then celebrated with champagne and treats in the Parish Hall. More than once during this week of stories and song, I was moved to tears at the tenderness and passion of the journey to the Cross. More than once, I was touched by light moving into darkness and back into the Light once again. For the first time in my faith life, I felt both the pain and the joy of Easter. I'm thankful for the unique combinations of events that made this walk to Easter possible.

The photo is of a drawing done by a parishoner of St.Timothy's altar, cross and bricks.

Giving and Receiving

2010-04-02T08:24:00.000-05:00

"Jesus....got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him." These verses from John 13 were the basis for last evening's Maundy Thursday service. After Elizabeth's homily on servanthood, humility and loving one another, we all had the opportunity to come forward to have our feet washed and to wash the feet of another. It was a powerful moment of both giving and receiving in love. Being a nurse, it wasn't hard for me to wash the feet of another; I've done that hundreds of times. For me, it was much harder to receive this loving gift from someone else. How many times do I put up barriers to receiving? How often have I refused to ask for help, for what I need, for a loving kindness? Have I ever rejected an act done out of love and caring? Yes, serving others can be inconvenient, unpleasant and hard. Receiving service and love from others can be infinitely more difficult.

Journey from Dark to Light

2010-03-28T08:06:00.001-05:00

I dreamed last night that I was in this covered bridge. As I turned around to look back where I entered, the spring flowers and grass were wet with a lightly falling rain. It was muddy, but beautiful. The grass glistened with raindrops and the flowers eagerly soaked up the moisture. I turned and looked at the dim tunnel interior. At the far end, the day was light and bright, the grass was green and growing. I stood, wondering how to get from here to there. Holy Week is here. Today is Palm Sunday. Waving the branches and singing "Hosannas!" we enter. If we sneak a look back, we can see the clouds gathering and the rain beginning. With Christ, we must walk through the darkened hours of the tunnel...Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday. We will deny, we will fear, we will shed tears of sorrow and pain, we will watch the Light extinguish. At the end of the tunnel, though, there is the Light of glorious celebration...the Resurrection. To get from here to there....we walk through the darkness.

Stars

2010-03-24T11:06:00.000-05:00

"When did I stop paying attention to the stars?" I wrote these words in my journal the other morning after stepping outside in the dark pre-dawn and whispering a soft 'bonjour' to the Big Dipper hanging low in the western sky. One night earlier in the week I was startled by my friend, Orion blazing high over the bare oak tree in my back yard. When did I stop seeing these old friends, these reminders that life is Life and much more immense than me and my petty problems? When did I get so caught up in the drama of my life that I ceased looking for starry reminders of the Divine presence in all of Life? Shame on me for neglecting my friends, the stars. Shame on me for forgetting to see the Divine in all of Nature...in the glitter of sunlight on fresh snow, in the pinpricks of green pushing out of the wet soil towards spring, in the honking of strings and strings of geese finally freed from frozen winter and winging their way north. Like the graceful Canada geese, I too, feel as if I've been freed from a frozen life. I feel ready to take wing. And seeing my Creator again in Nature, I trust that He will guide and protect me on my pilgrim's path as I move toward fulfilling His plan for my life.

Where Does This Path Lead?

2010-03-19T09:08:00.001-05:00

As I spend time reflecting on images I receive, both mentally and through my camera, I'm struck by the ones that involve walking, paths, and feet. I even take photos of floors like this one that I took inside the Notre Dame de Beaulieu church in Cucuron. I love black and white design and the beautiful pattern of the tomette tiles intrigued me. What you can't see in this photo is the cool sheen of moisture on the floor. It was a very hot day outside, but the cool, dark interior of the church caused condensation on the tiles. This 'path' led from the heavy wooden doors in the back of the church up to the altar...very predictable. The paths in my life right now are not quite so predictable. As in this photo, they fade into the shadows, and I'm not quite sure where they lead. I think about the feet that have walked this tiled path...hundreds, maybe thousands over the years. Did they know where it was leading them, or like me, did they simply put their faith and trust in God and embrace the adventure of it all? Was their path smooth and cool like this one or filled with rocky obstacles and moments of hot, sweaty terror? Are there lessons for me to learn from their feet, their journey?

Looking for the Way

2010-03-12T08:37:00.000-06:00

Have you ever been here before? No, I don't mean looking up at the causse along the Lot River in southwest France; I mean at that point in your life when you face something that seems almost insurmountable? When Way appears blocked or so difficult that even starting on the path takes more energy than you think you have. You need to continue your journey; where do you go from here? I feel as if I'm at this place. I'm seeking the open door, the Way I'm supposed to go. I've read Parker Palmer's book, "Let Your Life Speak" over and over. I get it... doors open, doors close. The Way forward appears or the Way behind closes and is no longer an option. Well, here I am and nothing! I know some doors that have closed, but I'll be darned if I can find a door that is opening! I've read, I've talked with people, I've explored options, I've thought and thought until I feel about brain dead. I've prayed and sat listening in Centering Prayer, I've looked for clues in Scripture, I've inventoried my gifts, talents, and abilities and objectively identified my limits. Today I have an appointment with a woman who does pastoral counseling for clergy and also Spiritual Direction. Mary, my priest, suggested I speak with her about discerning my path and possibly exploring pilgrimage. I'm open to her ideas and thoughts. Hopefully, God will speak to me through her wisdom.

Shadow Side

2010-03-05T09:53:00.000-06:00

This week I am exploring shadows for my online photography class,"Eyes of the Heart." My instructor, Christine Valters Paintner, is a Benedictine Oblate and integrates spiritual formation with contemplative practice and the expressive arts. She describes her website, Abbey of the Arts, as a 'virtual monastery.' So while our class assignments include 'receiving' photos from our world, they are also invite us to become deeply reflective and to delve into our spiritual nature. This seems to dovetail nicely with my Lenten reflections as I sit and become still in order to more deeply contemplate my life: good and bad, light and shadow. My shadow against the snow compelled me to receive it as I walked all bundled up against the cold this week. It almost yelled at me to stop and think: anything or anybody that stands in the Light will cast a Shadow. This is what makes us real, both pieces of our nature, both parts of our humanity. No one is perfect, no one except Father/Son/Holy Spirit is pure Light. Only by recognizing my shadow parts will I be able to embrace myself, God's beloved child and His creation.

Icon Update

2010-03-01T09:09:00.001-06:00

I decided to sleuth around a bit on Google to see if I could find my 'pilgrim' icon. While I didn't find the exact image, I did find a few icon images of Mary robed in red with the same design on the cloth. Most of the Mary images show her with Jesus, but there are a few, like mine, that show her alone. So, perhaps my icon is Mary? Here's one I found while Googling that is similiar to my icon.

Walk Like A Pilgrim

2010-02-28T10:54:00.003-06:00

I spent most of yesterday at the Confirmation Class retreat at Wesley Woods. All the mentors were invited to join their Confirmands as they discussed their faith statements, played Episcopal Jeopardy, and shared worship experiences at other churches and synagogues. I anticipated having a fun day, and I wasn't disappointed. I also anticipated being so engaged with the activities that I could take a rest from my mental tug-of-war between making a safe, sane decision about employment and my inner 'pilgrim' who is urging me to take a different path. God had a different idea, tho. One of the activities we did together was a silent walk around the retreat grounds. We were instructed to walk slowly and listen for God speaking to us. Fully expecting to 'hear' God in the beautiful snowscapes, clear blue sky and the deep evergreen woods, I was surprised when I noticed my mind humming "Ultreia," the pilgrim anthem. At first, I tried to re-focus my naughty inner pilgrim, but then I decided that maybe this was God's voice after all. By the end of our walk, I had planned a walking pilgrimage to Conques for myself, puzzled over how to invite others, and decided on questions and activities for the chemin. Now the work begins on how to make this daydreaming with God a reality.

This video is of a French man singing the Chant de pelegins de Compostelle ( Pilgrim's Anthem, as I call it) somewhere on the path. The elderly man next to him is Icelandic author, Thor Vilhjalmsson.
Here is the rough translation of what he's singing....
"Every morning we take the path, every morning we go further. Day after day we are called to the road by the voice of Compostelle.
Ultreia, ultreia! (forward, forward).We go higher, God help us!

My Pilgrim's Icon

2010-02-27T06:00:00.003-06:00

I'm telling my 'Pilgrim Imposter' story over at Musings From Red Bell Farm. The pilgrim cell that I stayed in at the Church hostel was decorated with only this icon on the wall. Not being very familiar with icons, I have no idea who this Saint is. I can't even tell if it's a man or a woman. At first I thought it might be Mary, Mother of Jesus, but I think most images of her show her robed in blue, not red. My photo doesn't capture the rest of the picture; that may have given me a clue to this Saint's identity. Whoever he/she is, I felt very blessed by their presence. As I lay in bed, the eyes of this icon looked directly at me. Do you know who this Saint is?

Signs on the Pilgrim Path

2010-02-24T10:15:00.000-06:00

As I began the 'pilgrimage on my journey to discovery' in my online class, I was instructed to take contemplative walks this week with my camera in hand. So...off Lucie and I went to walk on our road, the one we walk on nearly every day. And what begged to be seen? Not animal tracks in the fresh snow, not lovely ice crystals or drifted cornices of blown snow, not even the dried reminders of last summer's beautiful wildflower displays. No, what popped out to me were signs! "Sign, sign, everywhere a sign, blockin' out the scenery, breakin' my mind!" (for those of you not quite as old as I am...those are lyrics from a 1970 song by the Five Man Electrical Band). Why does this minimally maintained dirt road need all this signage? and why can't I seem to find a single sign indicating I'm on the right Path, the Way, the chemin de pelerin?? Maybe I'm looking too hard. Maybe I need to 'soften my gaze' as my instructor suggests and let the Signs find me. I don't know; what do you think?

Pilgrimage Everywhere!

2010-02-23T08:45:00.002-06:00

I'm currently enrolled in an online class on photography. I tried another online class earlier this year that didn't work so well for me. This one, however, has engaged me from my very first email. It's not about taking better photos, learning camera techniques, or marketing what I create. It's about finding the images that are begging me to see them, to record them, and to pray them into an expression of my creativity and spirituality. My first assignment is to take 'contemplative walks' this week with my camera and to 'imagine that I am heading out on a pilgrimage which is a journey of discovery. There it is once again....pilgrimage....I can't seem to get away from it no matter where I go! I did a contemplative walk yesterday with Lucie. Today I'll go into St.Charles and try a walk there. We'll see what images I discover. I'll be sharing some of this pilgrimage journey with you here during the next 6 weeks.

Tot Shabbat on 5 Adar 5770

2010-02-20T13:55:00.000-06:00

Last summer I made the committment to be a mentor for one of the Confirmands at my church. Lexi and I have met once and shared stories. This morning we completed another one of our 'assignments.' As part of her classwork, she (with her mentor) needed to attend a worship service that was different from her own. She has friends who attend Temple B'nai Jeshurun, so she asked me if that would be agreeable with me. Absolutely! I've always been interested in Judaism. Originally the plan was to attend Shabbat services last evening, but a snowstorm that got 'way out of hand made us change our minds. Instead we went to this morning's Tot Shabbat. It's a service directed to the littlest members of Temple...the children. It was held in a small chapel, but we peeked into the large sanctuary where Friday evening services are held. It's stunning with beautiful stained glass windows, a huge dome overhead, and as Lexi pointed out...blue velvet padded cushions on the pews! We really need to mention this to our Episcopal priests; padding is a good thing. The Shabbat service was lead by Rabbi Kaufman with the assistance of Cantor Laura Berkson. The service was mostly simple songs and a more complicated sung liturgy. Lexi and I fumbled with the prayer book until we figured out that it reads back to front, right to left. The liturgy was written in the Hebrew alphabet, then again in Hebrew in the English alphabet, followed by the English translation. Vested in yamelukes and prayer shawls, both Rabbi and Cantor made us feel very welcome. Rabbi Kaufman read a storybook to the children about a little boy and a Shabbat Box, a special box that holds symbols of Shabbat: candles, a challah cover, and a cup for wine. At the end of the service, the celebrants faced the wall and as we sang and prayed, two doors opened revealing a lighted niche holding the Torah. The words from the Torah for this weekend: Exodus 25:1-27 wherein God instructs the Jews how to make the Ark of the Covenant and its special place in the temple. Lexi and I agreed that we enjoyed this service and might even come back again!

A Pilgrim

2010-02-18T16:55:00.000-06:00

My Webster's dictionary defines a pilgrim as 'one who journeys to foreign lands.' This is a definition that could suit me well: I've been to Canada, Mexico, and France. The second definition Webster offers could define me as well: 'one who travels to a shrine or a sacred place as a devotee.' After all, it's impossible to be in France and not trip over a church several times a day, and I find them all fascinating. When my dictionary goes on to talk about pilgrimage, the comparison becomes even more interesting. 'A journey to a sacred place' and secondly, 'the course of life on earth.' I feel strongly that I am such a pilgrim, that I am on this pilgrimage to sacred places and that this somehow has become my course in life. Here stands St. Jacques (St. James the Greater) in the south transept of the great Abbey Church at Conques in southwest France. His walking staff, robes, and hat emblazoned with the scallop shell that identifies the pilgrim mark him as the saint of pilgrims. His venerated bones at Santiago de Compostele in Spain are housed at the shrine that is the goal of pilgrims on his Way, the Chemin de St. Jacques. Pilgrims light a candle to him in the elegant Romanesque church that anchors the beautiful village of Conques, asking him for safe travels. Here is where I first discerned that I am a pilgrim; here is where I begin my pilgrim's stories.

Protestant Work Ethic

2010-02-09T11:54:00.012-06:00

I'm sitting here feeling very guilty today. I think the Protestant work ethic is kicking in. It's been a week since I lost my job, and I feel as if I should be doing something productive, something that makes money, something that society finds more acceptable than being quiet, introspective, and listening for God to whisper next steps in my ear. I should be getting up in the morning, getting ready for work, worrying about the weather and road conditions. I should be checking emails and returning phone calls making sure I'm on top of the budget, personnel issues, projects and initiatives. I should be sitting in long, boring meetings listening to the 'flavor of the day' management theories and watching my colleagues play the political games it takes to get ahead. Right? I prove my worth by putting in long hours, by worrying about work when I'm not there and by being reachable and accountable 24/7. Right? Doing these things, after all, guarantees a pay check, prestige, and the good graces of Christian society since I'm working hard and taking care of myself. Where in the world did this idea come from? Here's what Google says about it: "The Protestant Work Ethic, sometimes called the Puritan Work Ethic, is a sociological, theoretical concept. It is based upon the notion that the Calvinist emphasis on the necessity for hard work is proponent of a person's calling and worldly success is a sign of personal salvation. " I visited my Concordance to see if Scripture speaks to this work ethic. No where did I find Jesus or anyone else giving these directives. It's true you can find Scripture to support almost any viewpoint; I say this to preface the Scripture that I did find and that speaks to my heart. First, Eccelsiastes 3:22 "...there is nothing better than that a man should enjoy his work, for that is his lot..." Secondly from Psalms 90:17 "Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish thou the work of our hands upon us, yea, the work of our hands establish thou it." I guess there is some Biblical precedent for sitting quietly and waiting for God to whisper what my work is to be.

Words of Wisdom for Lazarus

2010-02-06T08:37:00.000-06:00

The mist is beginning to clear from my brain and my heart is starting to 'get it.' My world turned upside down this week and for a brief moment, I wondered just where God was in all this turmoil. Today as I read my daily meditation by Father Keating, I began to see more clearly how He works. The question Fr. Keating poses is: what illness did Lazarus die from? And his answer is: his false self. Jesus did not intervene sooner because Lazarus' false self had to die before he could be transformed. The false self is the part of us that hangs onto "security, survival, affection & esteem, power & control, and from overidentifcation with a particular group or role." Lazarus represents me, living in the "Night of Spirit who feels imprisoned and forgotten by God." So what does God do? He lets the false self die and then "calls to me to come out of the darkness, confinement, loneliness, dereliction and grief." I was beginning to think God wanted me stuck here, in this place that is so NOT me doing things that make my spirit so sad, when really He didn't. So, He turned my life inside out and called to me, "Come out!" I'm excited and ready to respond.

"Banana Moon"

2010-01-17T06:00:00.002-06:00

Banana Moon
Banana moon slicing through bare branches
Peeking around winter-brittle twigs,
One dead dangling leaf.

I want…
To paint a face on you, Laury-style,
Sliver of gleaming silver
Giant comma punctuating the pre-dawn sky,

I see…

You diminishing, shrinking,

Weary of lighting the

Way for the dark-travelers.

I wonder…

Where do you go to sleep?

Are there jumping cows and fiddling cats there?

Why does no one ever fall in love

By the light of the waning moon?

2010-01-03T09:41:00.004-06:00

St. Timothy's has a rector, Mary, and an assistant rector, Elizabeth. They share duties and alternate presiding over our weekly services. Depending on which one is preaching the homily, I listen with a different side of my brain. Mary begins with one of the Scripture readings and then begins to build. She adds layer after layer of thoughts, insights. She carefully crafts each layer to build upon the previous one until by the end of her sermon, she has constructed a strong wall of ideas based on her original foundation, but ending up at a much different place. Her homilies remind me of the wonderful stacked stone walls I saw all throughout southwest France, each stone selected to fit perfectly with its neighbors, each important to the strength of the whole wall. I listen to Mary with the logical, data-absorbing, left side of my brain.

Elizabeth, the storyteller, begins with Scripture as well. Then she tells the stories that reveal its meaning. She circles and twirls around the word, looking at it from different angles, embellishing and enlivening it. Her homilies are full of movement and color. They remind me of this unfolding bud or the spirals of a shell. I listen to Elizabeth with the creative right side of my brain.

Which side of your brain to you listen with in church?

The Holy Birth

2009-12-25T00:01:00.004-06:00

Joseph holds Mary's hand, her fingers gripping tight and hard as she begins the final work. She pushes. Every eye in the stable is on her, even the animals seem to hold their breath. The Babe comes--bloody, purple, mottled, his little fists clenched, his legs drawn up tight against his body as he squeezes through the narrow birth passage. As all watch, he takes his first breath of life...and cries. His legs kick, his arms flail, the purple mottled skin begins to turn pink with every breath. Quickly Joseph wraps him in a rough blanket to keep him warm. Another contraction, another push--the birth is done. The innkeeper has supplied a clean knife and the cord is cut. As Joseph runs to the inn for water, Mary brings the Babe to her breast; he eagerly suckles. The animals sigh deeply and go back to sleep, comforted that life has begun anew and that they were blessed to be its witness this cold night in Bethlehem. Joseph returns with a jar of warm water and the servant girl, Iscah. He busies himself with cleaning up the wet, bloody straw and replacing it with fresh, as Mary and Iscah bathe the Babe and Mary washes herself. Joseph pulls a clean robe from their travelers' pack and soon Mary and the Babe are clean, warm and dry. Iscah sits with the innkeeper's dog at Mary's feet and watches as the holy family embraces God's mystery. Joseph passes her the jar of wine after he and Mary drink. "Thank you, child, for helping us," he says as she drinks to the wonder of it all.

I'd like to think that the family had a few hours of rest and sleep then. That Joseph lay down with Mary, and they snuggled the Babe between them to keep him warm. That Iscah returned to the inn, but the dog remained, faithful in his watchful duties. And that...as they slept, the great star hanging high over the little village of Bethlehem began to guide the world to this Babe. From lowly sheperds to great kings---all were called. Life for this holy family, indeed for the whole world, would never be the same.

The Mystery Begins...

2009-12-24T09:10:00.003-06:00

The morning feels mysterious--wrapped in darkness, fog, quietly illuminated by the gleaming candles. Snug and warm, I ponder the wonder that comes tonight. I think of Mary & Joseph who will be this night in Bethlehem....

They awaken to begin the last day of travel... weary, dirty, cold. Does Mary feel any signs of the impending birth? Or is she so exhausted that she doesn't feel anything at all? In my mind, they begin their trek walking alongside the donkey who carries their supplies for the journey--blankets, a skin of water, some bread. By day's end, Mary's labor has begun, and she can no longer walk. Riding their donkey now, each contraction causes her to grab his mane tightly; her water breaks as they enter Bethlehem in the dark. Wet,cold, trembling with exhaustion and fear, she's uncomplaining, but Joseph knows he must find her a place to lie down for surely his child will be born before dawn. He knocks on door after door. As each opens he catches a glimpse of the warmth and conviviality of the families gathered inside; he watches as other travelers relax, laugh and eat. For him and Mary, though, there is no room--except in the stable. Will that suit? It doesn't, but there are no other options, and Mary's time is very near. I'd like to imagine that the innkeeper took a moment to help them get settled, that he knew Mary was about to give birth, so he tried to make their meager lodging a bit more comfortable. Perhaps he left a lantern, a jar of wine, an extra blanket? Perhaps he told Joseph, "Come to the inn whenever the Babe is born, and I'll send a jar of warm water to bathe the Babe and for Mary to cleanse herself. My servant girl, Iscah, will help." I can see Mary slowly slide off the faithful donkey and sink to her knees on the stiff, prickly straw covering the stable floor. "Oh Joseph," she softly cries, "has God given me a burden too big to bear?" Then she remembers the words of the angel Gabriel, and her heart fills with God's warmth, her 'soul magnifies and her heart rejoices' because tonight--very soon--her Babe will be born, blessed by God. Joseph cares for the donkey while Mary spreads the blankets. As the darkest hour of the night wraps them in quiet, the only sounds are Mary's muffled cries and the soft breathing of their stablemates--the cow, the sheep, the innkeeper's dog who has come to stand guard. A tiny black cat peers down at the scene from her perch on a rafter and purrs; the chickens ruffle their feathers and settle again on their roosts along the wall where the cow eats her hay. As Mary's moans become more frequent, all awake to watch and wait....

A Visit from Sainte Foy

2009-12-19T10:22:00.004-06:00

As I sat in this morning's pre-dawn darkness journaling by candlelight and listening to the pilgrimage music of the great organ at Conques playing on the CD, Sainte Foy came to visit. She took my hand and lead me back to her Abbey Church. We sat there together on the hard wooden pews watching the votives flicker against the shadows on the creamy stone walls of the church. She pointed to St. Jacques keeping her company in the west transept and to Mary's chapel on the east. We listened as the pilgrims gathered there sang "Ultreia," their anthem, accompanied by Brother Jean-Pierre on the grand piano made small by the high walls and vaulted domes. Altar, choir, hard backless benches lined across the nave for small Masses...all protected by lacy ironwork, delicate from a distance, deadly spiked on closer look, forged from prisoners' fetters shattered by the Little Saint.

"Sainte Foy, Little Saint, Virgin Child, martyred for your love of Christ...free me from the fetters of my life that keep me tethered to things that don't matter. Free me to come again to your great Abbey Church to sing praise to your Creator, my Creator, our God, our Christ. Sainte Foy, Little Saint, as you are a child, so love all the children. Hold them in your care and keep them under your watchful eye. Teach them faith, teach them love, teach them to have fun, O Little Martyr. Teach me these things as well. Whisper my prayers into God's listening ear. Whisper His divine will into my listening heart. Bless me, Child Saint. Offer me to God, our Creator."

Prepare the Way

2009-12-07T06:00:00.000-06:00

The Advent readings this week are from the prophets. "Prepare ye the way of the Lord!" Isaiah 40:3-5 tells us that a voice cries this in the wilderness. Malachi 3:1..."Behold, I send my messenger to prepare the way.." The Gospels quote these prophets of old as well and add their own stories exhorting people to prepare for the Lord. Matthew tells Jesus' parable of the maidens who went to the wedding feast unprepared and slept, missing the bridegroom when he came. Luke begins his Gospel with the story of John who came before Jesus to prepare the way for the Word of God. Preparation, it seems, is a very important part of Advent. How do we normally prepare for the birth of Christ? We bake, we decorate, we send greetings to friends. We shop and party and generally get caught up in the swirl of holiday fun. Is this how God wants us to prepare? Is this what the prophets had in mind? I believe, that while God doesn't have a problem with this superficial activity, He really means for us to go much deeper, to cleanse our hearts and souls, and to meditate on His word. Elizabeth's Saturday evening homily likened it to deep cleaning your home before you have houseguests. Your guests will poke in the closets, raid your refrigerator, and notice if the bathroom isn't sparkling. All those hidden places better be clean and free from the detritus of worldly living! God knows all those hidden places of your spirit. Are they clean and sparkling? Are they cluttered with worldly junk? As I prepare for Christmas, my deep cleaning includes my Centering Prayer practice and learning about lectio divina. How are you deep cleaning your spirit this Christmas?

This Virgin and Babe are part of one of my Christmas creches.

Practical Advice from Mary

2009-11-27T06:00:00.003-06:00

"Practical Advice from Mary" is the title of today's reading in the Fr. Thomas Keating book "The Daily Reader for Contemplative Living." I've been using this book for my daily devotion in conjunction with my Centering Prayer practice; I've found each meditation to be rich with meaning and new insights. This meditation was no exception. Fr. Keating references verses from the first part of John 2:1-11. It's the familiar story of the wedding feast at Cana where Jesus turned stone jars of water into good wine. As verse 11 says..."This, the first of his signs....manifested his glory; and his disciples believed in him" What Fr. Keating draws my attention to, though, is that Jesus' mother, Mary was also there. Her presence and her words seem almost an after-thought as John tells the story, but it was she who said to Jesus... "They have no wine." And it was she who uttered the most important words in these verses when she said to the servants... "Do whatever he tells you." Across the centuries she speaks to me today with her very practical mother's advice...'do whatever he tells you.' I have to ask myself what is Christ telling me to do? What is Christ telling you to do on this day?

This Virgin is found in Conques placed high in the vault of the Porte de la Vinzelle where she blesses pilgrims as they leave the village on their way to Santiago de Compostela in Spain.

Fete de Sainte Foy

2009-11-21T15:51:00.008-06:00

The parvis of the church is full of pilgrims and villagers come to celebrate the fete of Sainte Foy. It's a few days off, but they gather still to enjoy the company. A clear, starry night, cold autumn, the glow of the changing trees is wrapped in darkness. Tonight the only glow is from the flickering torches that light the square and cast long shadows up the sides of the half-timbered houses flanking the parvis. Musicians cluster around a stone bench--flute, tamborine, lute--a voice high and clear sings a haunting tune in the old Occitan language. Strangers from the north can't understand the words, but they feel the story of love, sorrow and prayers to the 'little saint' stir their souls. Wrapped against the cold, the people mingle, eating handsfull of roast chestnuts, looking for family, conducting trade with peddlers, and sharing stories from the pilgrim trail, the Via Podensis. A small, roughly garbed monk wanders midst the crowd, his heavy robe and cowl enveloping his features. In a people small of stature, this monk is smaller still, but no one questions his presence. He's simply another pilgrim, a faithful wanderer in search of Sainte Foy this year. By next year, he will seek St. Jacques at Santiago de Compostelle. Small feet slipped into the roughest of thick wool stockings and shod in hard leather and wood sandals tread softly on the stones. Deep in the sleeves of his robe, surprisingly small, slender fingers pray the beads. Who is this strange monk who stands close to a knot of women sharing stories of children and kitchens? The men trading gold nuggets quietly by the fountain barely notice the cleric's presence as he dips a cup of water and leans in to hear their conversation about the gleaming gold and the fine jewelry it will produce. If anyone cared, if anyone looked closely at the face mostly hidden by the robe's deep cowl, they would see not the whiskered face of an old monk, but the sweet, fresh face of a young girl, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of the music, the stories, and the glittering gold. This child, almost a woman, has come to the 'little saint's' celebration. Sainte Foy is here enjoying her disguise, enjoying her fete, enjoying her faithful people.

Click the appropriate link if you are interested in learning more about Sainte Foy, her Abbey Church at Conques, or the village of Conques. "Little Saint" by Hannah Green is a beautifully written book that weaves all these stories together in a personal memoir of discovery from the author's many visits to Conques.

Shutting Out the World

2009-11-14T12:19:00.005-06:00

I snapped this photo on my visit to Calvignac in September. It's not unusual to find modern art installations in rather strange places in France; that this one was at the entrance of a beautiful medieval village did not surprise me. While it wasn't particularly beautiful, I felt compelled to get a few pictures of it; I was reminded of those photos last weekend at my Centering Prayer meeting. As we settled to begin the prayer session, three people in the group took off their glasses and put them on the table in the center of our circle. It struck me that I take my glasses off as well when I pray, and I began to ponder that. Which was NOT a good thing, since during Centering Prayer one is supposed to let all thoughts go and not engage in them. Anyway...why do we take our glasses off to pray? I believe that it's a symbolic way of disengaging from the world and of turning within. If you can't see the busy-ness of the world, you can't be distracted by it when you pray. Sometimes I even need to put my hands over my eyes to help me focus; if I'm wearing my glasses, I can't do that. What helps you shut out the world when you pray? Do you remove your glasses? Do you darken the room? Lock the door? Take the phone off the hook? How do you follow Jesus' command: "Whenever you pray, go to your room, close the door, and pray to your Father in private?"

By Candlelight...

2009-11-07T06:56:00.006-06:00

Somewhere in hazy ancient pre-history, our ancestors tamed fire and their world opened up. A candle, lit in the dankest cave or the darkest stone hut, dispelled the night, chased away spirits, and enabled them to continue on with the work of their world long after the sun had set. A candle was a blessing, something so special in that long ago time that it was given as a lighted sacrifice when prayers were offered up to their gods, their God. In my search to rekindle my heart and spirit, I've returned to the candle. By its light, I read my daily devotion; by its light I offer my prayers. Unlike my ancestors, my candle gives me a focus that shuts out the world. In the dark morning or the late night, I turn out all artificial light and light my candle. Beyond its flickering glow, the world's busy-ness stays quiet in the dark; I can ignore it for a time. Offering a prayer as I light my candle, I call Spirit into my life. Candlelight brings only enough illumination for the task at hand...writing, reading, praying, meditating. I can forget about reports, projects, data, balancing the checkbook. Only when I blow out the candle's gentle flame and flip the switch that brings electricity surging into light bulbs big and small is there enough light to do the world's work. A few brief moments in a world lit only by a single flame soothes and centers my soul. I am again at one with Spirit.

Sunday Worship

2009-11-02T06:00:00.000-06:00

I couldn't have picked a better Sunday to worship as I seek to re-center myself in Spirit. I worshipped on Sunday instead of Saturday evening because the Confirmand that I was given to mentor needed to meet and interview me for her next class this week. Her family attends the 10:15am service, so we made plans to meet at 9:30am. We tucked ourselves into a corner of the downstairs chapel away from the noisy Parish Hall, so we could actually have a conversation, and she began her questions. How could I not focus on Christ when she asked when I first knew I was a Christian? Her questions about where I most feel God in my life made me think and remember and feel again those times that I called on God and He answered. We shared a mutual place where both of us feel God's presence...in ancient churches. She completed her assignment, but I gained far more than she did from simply answering her questions. Then upstairs for the service of saints on this All-Saints Day. There were two babies presented for baptism...my very favorite sacrament. I loved watching Mary annoint them with the blessed waters of baptism and Elizabeth seal them in Christ with the oil of chrism. But my favorite part of the baptismal sacrament is when we in the congregation are called to support these children as they grow in faith. And then we all re-affirm our baptismal vows, saying after each vow "I will with God's help." Strong words that bring me back to center, back to Spirit; words that remind me that all I am and all that I do comes from God.

Organ Music and Candlelight

2009-11-01T07:39:00.003-06:00

I'm sitting here journaling by candlelight and the organ music of Conques, searching for God in the midst of the world's busy-ness. Since returning from France, busy has been non-stop: work issues, projects including moving my office, a long weekend in San Diego visiting family, buying a new car and bidding the old one 'adieu,' struggling with a sorethroat and cough, a dental problem, a doggie health issue, planning trips to the laundromat (I've GOT to buy a new washer soon!). You get the picture--all those things that hold you in an iron grip of worry and distraction. Where is God in all this? My Centering Prayer practice has stopped; I hardly find time to journal, say a quick bedtime prayer or even glance at the prayer list from church. I feel frazzled, a bit empty and annoyed at myself for letting exterior things interfere with my interior peace and groundedness. I've decided to let the wonderfully opaque graphic glass windows of the Abbey Church at Conques block out the world's distractions while I renew my inner spirit. For the next few days, I'll seek Spirit in ritual and intention. Will you join me?

Merci Lady

2009-10-17T13:04:00.002-05:00

Since I'm not Catholic, many of the saints, customs, and ceremonies that I encountered as I visited the churches of France last month had little meaning for me other than simply being beautiful. Laury introduced me to one of her rituals, however, that made so much sense that I've decided to adopt it. She has her favorite Merci Ladies at each of the churches in her area. The Merci Lady is, of course, the Virgin Mary, but a statue of her that usually stands alone, dressed simply as a blessed and faithful woman. No fancy robes or crowns of glory; no Infant or dying Christ in her arms. She stands waiting to help, open to your prayers. Laury always lights a candle and says a prayer of thanks, a merci prayer to this woman of God. Once I started looking for the Merci Lady, I saw her in every church. And I, too, would light a candle and say a prayer of thanks...for friendship, for opportunity, for all the blessings that God has bestowed upon me. Do you have a ritual to offer thanks to God? Do you have a Merci Lady in your spiritual life?

This lovely Merci Lady stands in the 15th century church at St.-Cirq-Lapopie.

What Color is Your House?

2009-10-10T13:44:00.005-05:00

It's a cold, snowy day in Iowa. I looked out my window this morning onto a world of grey and white...early winter had arrived. To lighten my spirits, I decided to blog about colorful Collioure at Musings from Red Bell Farm. And sure enough, I left home headed to church for our Centering Prayer workshop with summer in my heart. God's blessing of a wonderful trip to France provided me with yet another blessing with its memory on this dreary Iowa day. As I walked into church, I was immediately captured by colors on the wall. The pre-school class had painted lively pictures of their houses and hung them for all to see.

Hearts filled with God's love, these little ones paint their world and their houses with vibrant color. When I ignore God's loving presence or forget to be grateful for His many blessings, my world becomes sad and grey, and my heart becomes heavy. By offering my gratitude in prayer, I welcome God's vibrancy back into my life. My house is full of bright color. Is your heart filled with God's love? Is your world cold and dreary? Could remembering God's blessings fill you with colorful gratitude? What color is your house today?

Sainte Foy

2009-10-01T07:23:00.010-05:00

Who is this young girl kneeling in faithful supplication before the hand of God? Why is she in such need of His loving presence? She is Sainte Foy, and I found her at Conques, a magnificent pilgrimage site in the Aveyron. Here is her story:

Foy, whose name means "Faith" in the Occitan language of her times, was the 12 year old daughter of a wealthy Agen nobleman. Born in 290 C.E. Foy was cared for by a wet-nurse who taught her the Christian faith which she embraced with love and enthusiasm. She especially liked to take food to poor Christians who lived outside her family's villa. She was encouraged in her good acts by Caprais, a local Christian bishop, but her father was angered that she stole food and gave it to Christians.

The years between 294 C.E. and 305 C.E.were especially dangerous for Christians as the new Emperor, Diocletian, began a new wave of persecutions. His local governor, Dacien, carried out his edicts and martyred many Christians in his district. He visited Agen in 303 C.E. There Foy was betrayed by her own father and sent to appear before Dacien. He ordered her to give sacrifice to either Diana or Jupiter to prove that she was not a Christian. This 12 year old child stood up to the Governor refusing to do either and proclaiming that she was a Christian and in the name of Jesus Christ was ready to suffer any kind of torture. Dacien ordered her flogged, then had her tied, naked, to a metal grill to be burned alive. It is said that snow fell miraculously putting out the fire and wrapping Foy in a mist to cover her nakedness. Undeterred, Dacien then had her beheaded...a martyr for her faith.

Many miraculous deeds are attributed to this young saint who is described as fun loving and playful. She has healed blindness, helped mothers in childbirth, and has a special penchant for freeing shackled prisoners. Her remains were brought to Conques in the 9th century where they are venerated in the Abbey Church there.

Here in one of the chapels around the nave of the church, Sainte Foy is seen holding the sword that killed her and the palm branch that symbolizes her martyrdom.

This grillwork, some of the best example of Roman ironwork in France, is said to have been made of the iron fetters from the chains of prisoners who owed their freedom to the intercession by Sainte Foy.

I am mesmerized by this young girl's story. A child of 12 years, not yet a woman, whose faith was so strong she could stand up to the Roman government and die for her love of Christ. A faith so strong....would I have this strength? Would you?

Bells

2009-09-28T09:23:00.004-05:00

Life in rural France is measured by church bells. From my bed at Laury's I could hear the hours and half hours chimed from two different village churches along the Lot. Last Saturday evening I heard bells coming from a different direction calling the villagers of Cadrieu to Mass. Their itinerant priest celebrates Mass the last Saturday of every month, and the bells ring to remind them..."This is the day...come!" In Conques I heard the bells persistently calling the Brothers to church for 7:30am matins and 7:30pm vespers. Watching them hurry into the church, their long white robes flapping wildly over their sandaled feet made me hurry as well. Slipping quietly into a back pew, my heart was thrilled by the sweet tenor voice that began to sing the liturgy the moment the bells became quiet. The bells that chime in my photo are from the church in the tiny village of Cenevieres. Protected by its 12th century chateau, the church and its villagers have been marking time, praising God, celebrating Holy Eucharist, giving thanks for births, marriages, and saints, and mourning deaths to the rhythm of these bells for centuries. Worshiping God and measuring life...always reminded by the bells.

Rocamadour

2009-09-18T10:49:00.009-05:00

It's hard to avoid churches and pilgrimage sites when you visit France. Religion has played a huge part in the history of this country and is still an important part of its patrimony. This photo is from my visit to Rocamadour, a major pilgrimage site on the way to Santiago de la Compostela in Spain. Several of France's kings made pilgrimage to this holy place that has roots as far back as the 7th century. A pilgrim wishing to do penitence would ascend these stairs on his knees, praying the rosary at each step. There are 287 steps to the church of the Black Virgin at the top. I can only wince in imagined pain at the toll these steps took on the pilgrims' knees!

While there are many other churches in France that have a Black Virgin, the one at Rocamadour is one of the most famous. To me, she is also the most beautiful. The dim light in the church made it hard to get a good photo, but I hope you can appreciate how special she is. In some ways this trip feels like my pilgrimage. I'm still not sure exactly where this pilgrimage is leading me or just what God's plan is in all this sacred exploration and spiritual beauty. Maybe the early pilgrims weren't sure either. My prayer is that I, like them, can find my way to what God intends.

Montsegur

2009-09-11T07:48:00.007-05:00

Help me understand....

This is Montsegur located in southwest France. It is a ruined Cathar stronghold that sits atop a pog. In 1243-44, 500 Cathar men, women and children were held at siege by the French army. Pope Innocent III decreed Cathars to be heretics and pressured the French king to assist him in destroying all Cathars in France. After almost 10 months, the besieged finally were overcome. The French demanded that they recant their heretical faith or be burned. 250 refused to recant and were burned on a huge pyre in the meadow marked by a memorial in the photo below. I climbed to the stronghold...a very difficult hike, but well worth it. The view from the top is magnificent, but loses some of its fascination when you consider that the people who were trapped here were this far above any help.

This is only one of the places that the burning happened. Eventually all the Cathars were eliminated. In fact, nothing remains of their faith except the writings of the Catholic church which explains why they were decreed heretics. Essentially they are people who rebelled against the excesses and exclusiveness of the Church. They did not believe in the Holy Eucharist, nor did they believe in infant baptism. They believed that the Bible should be written in the language of the people and made available to any believer, not just held in the hands of priests. The only sacrament they practiced was the consolamentum or laying on of hands to declare a person as a Good Man or Good Woman.

For these reasons, they were destroyed in the name of God.

Help me understand......

The Church in St. Cirq Lapopie

2009-09-06T04:53:00.005-05:00

I'm frequently surprised by churches in France. An ancient facade can hold relics and art from the long distant past or it can open into a bright modern space. You just never know when you pull open the big wooden doors what you may find inside. The 15th century church in St. Cirq Lapopie was that kind of surprise. Instead of being dark and dim inside, it was white, airy, and open. The walls were still lined with tiny chapels devoted to different saints and the Holy Family, but each chapel had a unique, more modern style. I loved this one dedicated to the Virgin, a gem of blue niched into the white wall illuminated by votives.

Then stepping outside the Virgin's chapel, I'm thrilled by this very modern art installation...a tree leafed with stainless steel bicycle wheels . Reaching high up to the Romanesque vaulted ceiling, does it signify movement toward God? Living modernity growing from a dying world? Or fresh thoughts about religion rooted in the old, established tradition? Or is it....just art!

"Find My Church"

2009-08-23T07:57:00.003-05:00

I'm counting down the days until I leave for a month's sojourn in France. I probably don't need to tell you that I'm excited about this trip. While in my heart, I shouted an immediate "YES!" to the opportunity to make the trip when it was presented in March, my mind had to think about it awhile. You know...figure out all the details, ponder the 'what ifs,' count the pennies, weigh the pros and cons. Yes, I wanted more than anything to have this adventure, and I also wanted some reassurance that it was the right thing to do as it could be (and I expect it will be!) a life-changing experience. Part of my spiritual practice is to spend some time every day in quiet time with God; time when I stop talking and instead listen for His direction. I do this on my drive into work. For several mornings I had talked with God about whether it really was the right thing to do, hoping that I would hear a big 'yes' from Him. Being in quiet time and merging onto I-35 from the St. Charles exit, this is what I heard..."Find my church." Loud and clear, not my words, but His. So I did. I will worship with the Anglican Community that I found in Cahors. I've emailed their church secretary; I'm told they welcome visitors. I have the schedule of services, and directions to the Catholic parish In Cahors where they meet. Their priest serves another parish as well, so Holy Eucharist is offered only every other Sunday. I have found God's church in the Lot.

"May I Live This Day...."

2009-08-10T08:09:00.003-05:00

May I live this day

Compassionate of heart,

Gentle in word,

Gracious in awareness,

Courageous in thought,

Generous in love.

From Eternal Echoes: Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong, by John O'Donohue

The Right Door?

2009-08-08T08:48:00.003-05:00

A door has opened in my life very unexpectedly. I blogged about it yesterday over at "Musings from Red Bell Farm." I've been praying quite a bit lately for God's will for my life to be made more clear. This door is not the answer I expected...or wanted. It's a bit disappointing and actually feels like it is taking me even further away from my dreams, entangling me even more in something that is neither fulfilling nor moving me toward what I really want to do. It's not something, however, that I have much choice about, so I accepted its challenge, graciously on the outside; not so graciously on the inside! I guess this is where the going gets tough, huh? It's easy to be faithful when life is going my way and much harder when it's not. I want to believe that God is leading me in the best direction, that He has glorious plans, that my dreams will come true. I want to believe... Like the father of the child possessed by the unclean spirit, I cry "I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24)

A "Sign"

2009-08-02T10:10:00.003-05:00

In yesterday's post I explored my need to see visual proof to bolster my faith. I'm not alone...the Disciples, the adoring crowds, Jesus' accusers...all asked repeatedly for signs of his divinity. I went to bed Friday evening with 'signs' on my mind. Early Saturday morning as I was rattling around in the kitchen gathering the essentials for that first cup of coffee, I glanced in the sink. Imagine my surprise when I saw a tiny green tree frog looking quite perplexed as he hunkered down on the cool porcelin. At first I was startled, then I began to chuckle to myself. God has quite a sense of humor. I could just see Him up there smiling..."You think you need a sign, huh? Well, here's a sign that even you can't miss, Evelyn!"

I borrowed this image from Google. I scooped my 'sign' up and had him safely returned to the marigold bed outside before I even thought about snapping his picture!

Show Me A Sign

2009-07-31T17:37:00.002-05:00

I had lunch with Elizabeth today at La Mie. Food was good and the conversation was good as well. We chattered through lunch and beyond covering such diverse subjects as kids, college, sports, good books to read, cooking, Julia Child, travel, Alaska, France....never a lapse in in the conversation! We ended up talking about tomorrow evening's service, the readings, and the sermon. I laughed as Elizabeth confessed that she didn't have anything put together yet and we giggled at the idea that maybe she should just tell the congregation that she was fresh out of ideas and what did THEY think the readings meant? After all, what new can you say about Jesus being the 'bread of life?' That led to some discussion about both the apostles and the crowds of people who came to hear Jesus preach. They all wanted some sort of visible sign of his divinity. "Show us a sign!' they'd shout, 'heal someone, raise someone from the dead, restore sight to the blind!' Even today we're such visual people...we want to see Christ at work in the world. It can't be real or true if we can't see it, right? Then I confessed that my favorite song from the 70's rock musical Jesus Christ Superstar is Herod's Song. Herod wanted visual proof as well. Who knows what might have happened if Jesus had shown Herod a sign and had turned his water into wine.

How To Pray...

2009-07-26T09:55:00.004-05:00

I received an email from a friend yesterday that contained a link to an online presentation about how to pray. If you're interested, you can click the link and watch the video. I have to admit that this is not the type of video I would normally watch. It feels a bit like those tele-evangelist programs you see on TV and yes, Dr. Price does ask for money to help him with his ministry. Once I got past that initial hesitancy, however, I found the presentation fascinating. Dr. Price preaches well; he teaches well. And his audience is obviously engaged...everyone has a Bible, is taking notes, and responds to Dr. Price's questions. I appreciated the lesson he taught and loved the energy he inspired. I also am a firm believer in occasionally moving outside my comfort zone in exploring faith. Dr. Price and his congregation are certainly not part of my normal routine. Whether I choose to pray as he instructed is not the point. The message he preached is important. You have to invite God into your life. You have to be grateful for His blessings. You have to 'speak' your faith whether you do that through words, song, creativity, actions or charity. You don't keep your faith inside...it has to be shared in some way; faith is you and God and community. And then when you ask God to answer your prayers, look out! For as Elizabeth said in last evening's homily: "Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever. Amen" (Ephesians 3:20-21. Italics are mine) God will do more in your life than you could ever imagine and answer your prayers in ways more abundant than you dream.

Who's the Boss?

2009-07-19T08:29:00.003-05:00

Elizabeth's homily last evening was taken from Mark 6:30-34. These are the verses that lead up to the 'feeding of the 5,000' story that we are so familiar with. Jesus has sent the apostles out to preach the Good News, to cast out demons, and to heal; they've returned, exhausted by their travels. As they begin to tell Jesus about their work, he stops them, saying "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while." How kind and compassionate Jesus is to recognize their weariness and offer them time to replenish themselves! Asking each of us to think about our bosses at work, Elizabeth challenged us to decide if this is how our boss would treat us at the end of a big project or after a particularly busy time at work. Does your boss tell you take some time off? does he/she offer to take you to a place of rest and relaxation so you can recharge your batteries? would you even want to spend 'down' time with your boss? I know how I answered those questions. Who is your Boss? Is he important enough for you to spend quiet time with him? He asks you to do that....how do you respond to his kindness and compassion? I definitely know which Boss I want to work for; how about you?

Joy...as a verb

2009-07-18T08:10:00.003-05:00

I regularly read a blog called "Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods." While it's not specifically about spirituality, almost everything that Britt-Arnhild blogs about takes on a spiritual context. It's a beautiful, peaceful, soul-soothing blog, and I recommend it highly. And if you're multi-lingual, you can even read it in Norwegian! In a recent post, Britt-Arnhild speaks about joy and that in Norwegian, joy can be a verb. For example, you might say "I joyed today" which roughly translates to "I look forward to today with great happiness." How cool is that? What would life look like if we could joy a little every day? Would others see us joying and follow suit? Instead of spreading negativity, we could joy positivity, making it an infectious double positive feeling, perhaps canceling all the bad stuff out there. We could look forward to/joy everything. My favorite prophet, Isaiah, talks about joy in chapter 35 saying "...the wilderness and the dry land shall....rejoice with joy and singing" and "...they shall obtain joy and gladness." Do you think Isaiah would approve of joying for God...looking forward with great happiness to God's kingdom?

Called to be a Prophet?

2009-07-12T07:57:00.005-05:00

We heard from Amos and a plumb line at church last night. Elizabeth's homily focused on this prophet and God's metaphor of the plumb line as a measure of what is right and true. Prophets have always made me a bit uncomfortable. Elizabeth shared seeing a 'prophet' at the downtown Farmer's Market that morning, standing on his soap box between an organic vegetable stall and an artisan cheese display. Complete with a tee shirt emblazoned with "Repent," he was witnessing his faith..and making most of the Saturday morning shoppers uneasy. This has been my vision of what a prophet is...someone a bit whack-a-doodle, preaching on a street corner and making everyone squirm. When I read Marcus Borg's, Reading the Bible Again for the First Time, I encountered a different meaning for what a prophet is. Borg sees the prophets as lightening rods for social justice. God empowers them to speak out and indict those abusive forces in society, to threaten and name those abusers, and to give voice to oppressed peoples. They 'draw the line in the sand;' either take action to right this wrong or suffer the consequences. Their plumb line divides the upright and true from the wrongs of society. Prophets are not crazy men, predicting the end of the world; they are concerned citizens speaking up for what is right. Rich Mayfield references one such 'prophet.' See if you can guess who he's writing about before you get to the end of his essay. Does this mean we are all called to be prophets? That was Elizabeth's challenge to us.

Eyes of God

2009-07-03T16:43:00.004-05:00

Let me wrap my arms around your cool smoothness.
Let me stroke your soft strength.
Eyes of God peer from your soul.
I am sheltered in your presence.
Do you endure your domesticity?
Does your soul long to live free among your comrades?
I await your golden fluttering answer.

PS....I chose to be a mentor. I chose love over fear.

2009-06-30T06:23:00.006-05:00

I listened to a tele-conference last night that is facilitated by my friends, Deb and Rita. It was one in a series based on "The Course in Miracles." This one was about finding one's purpose in life. The statement that hit home with me was: There is love and there is fear. Only one is real and that's love. If it's God's purpose for me to be happy, then absolutely the only thing that's real is love. Fear keeps me from happiness; love encourages happiness. My last blog entry referenced a ministry that I've been asked to accept. I meet with Elizabeth this afternoon to discuss what mentoring a young Confirmand will require of me. I think God spoke to me last evening through Deb and Rita's presentation on purpose. I will view this decision through the eyes of love, not fear. And I will be back to let you know what my decision is.

Photo: Mount of the Holy Cross in Colorado taken last week.

Strengthen Me...

2009-06-21T08:10:00.006-05:00

"Strengthen me, O Lord, with your holy spirit..."
Elizabeth has asked me to do a really hard thing. She would like me to sign on as an adult sponsor for one of the young confirmands currently studying to become a confirmed member of the Episcopal Church next May. Being a sponsor would mean meeting with my confirmand a half dozen times during the next few months, engaging them in conversation about their faith (Elizabeth will provide me with the 'conversation-starter' questions) and attending a church service with him/her at a church other than an Episcopal one. I can certainly make the time to do this. So what's the big deal?? The idea of working with kids and being a faith role model terrifies me! Although I love kids, their curiosity, their energy..I've never thought of myself as being particularly good at relating to them. I keep having flashbacks to teaching Jr.-Sr. Sunday school class when Sunni and Scott were in those grades. It was SO hard and I vowed to never put myself thru that misery again! Middle school was a hard time with Travis...I wasn't sure either of us would survive his 'smart mouth' so typical of those early teen years. And, I keep hearing echoes of past criticism of my skills with kids from someone whom I believed was correct in his assessment. Then there's my almost total lack of knowledge about what it means to be Episcopal...actually the kids could teach me a lot! I've thought about this; I've prayed about it. Elizabeth and I will talk about whether I'm the right person for this service to God, for this ministry. In the meantime, I'll continue to ask God for His direction.

Abbey of the Arts

2009-06-10T19:00:00.004-05:00

I've added a blog to the list of the ones I follow. It's called "Abbey of the Arts" and is written by a woman who is a Benedictine oblate and holds a PhD in Christian Spirituality. She also does Spiritual Direction. I loved reading through past blog entries and clicking through the links to other articles she's written on topics such as sacred poetry, art and spiritual practice, and praying with music. I think art adds a richness and depth to any spiritual practice. Beauty speaks to my senses and involves me in ways that feel visceral. Certain notes on the violin move me to tears, certain colors create a physical reaction deep in my center. During worship the rhythm of the liturgy, the visual feast of flickering candles and colorful vestments, and the fragrance of incense helps me feel God's presence in ways that words alone do not. When I have the opportunity to hear sacred music played or sung, I am filled with the Spirit. What a gift and a blessing to be able to create art and beauty to celebrate the glory of God!

The 'Blessing' of the Holy Spirit

2009-05-31T08:46:00.006-05:00

This is Pentecost Sunday. The Lesson reading during last evening's service was from Acts 2:1-21. It relates the coming of the Holy Spirit to those gathered. and says in part: "All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability." And later in this passage the author references ancient Hebrew writings that proclaim, "God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams." This sounds like an idyllic way to live, doesn't it...knowing the future, seeing visions, dreaming dreams? Yet, Mary's homily put a different face on this blessing of the Holy Spirit. In a voice thickened with emotion, she told us of her last conversation with Father Samuel Peni, our friend and visitor from the Sudan, as they breakfasted before he and his wife left for their long trip home. Fr. Samuel is blessed by the Spirit; God has led him by the Spirit to speak out for peace and reconciliation within his war-torn homeland, the Sudan. He speaks to bring an end to the violence, the killings, the fear there and to reconcile all within God's love. And as Mary said, this has made him a 'marked man.' His life will be in danger every moment when he returns home. He could be killed by enemies who don't embrace his mission of peace. It's hard to imagine what life would be like when a walk home from church or out to your farm fields could be filled with the real possibility of death, just because you have been blessed by the Spirit with a vision of peace. For me today, it's easy to celebrate Pentecost and God's outpouring of the Spirit to his people. For Fr. Peni who has also received this gift from God, the joy of Pentecost has an entirely different meaning.

For a Friend

2009-05-29T05:55:00.003-05:00

I learned this week that an old friend has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and given 6 months to live. This is not a person with whom I've had a close friendship, but still this news felt like a blow to my very center. My thoughts and prayers go out to him and his family; my thoughts and prayers also go within my soul. Life is so very short. There isn't enough time ever to let yourself be sad or miserable. Why does it take this kind of devastating news to remember that? For this friend, a bit of a blessing from my favorite, John O'Donohue's, To Bless This Space Between Us...

"Now is the time of dark invitation
Beyond a frontier you did not expect,
Abruptly your old life seems distant....

When the reverberations of shock subside in you,
May grace come to restore you to balance.
May it shape a new space in your heart
To embrace this illness as a teacher
Who has come to open your life to new worlds...

May you be granted the courage and vision
To work through passivity and self-pity,
To see the beauty you can harvest
From the riches of this dark invitation..."

A Forgotten Saint

2009-05-23T19:38:00.005-05:00

This is Sainte Tulle, patron saint of Cucuron, a tiny village nestled deep in Provence. She reigns over l'eglise Notre-Dame-de-Beaulieu, the church of our Lady of the beautiful place. According to legend, Sainte Tulle protected the village from the plague of 1720; according to Catholic Online, she doesn't exist as a saint. Forgotten by the world, Ste. Tulle is remembered only by a handful of people who owe the existence of their village to her divine intercession. Tonight's homily referenced another saint, also forgotten. Elizabeth challenged us with these verses from Acts 1:15-17, 21-26 which say, in part..."and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles." Have you ever heard of Matthias? Me neither. I had a moment of guilt, maybe I slept through that Sunday School lesson? But then I noticed that no one else in the congregation knew who Matthias was either. He replaced Judas as the twelfth apostle, yet he is never mentioned again in the New Testament and most Christians have never heard of him. Like Ste. Tulle, his name lies moldering in the ancient history of the church. Does that make him unimportant though? Absolutely not. As Elizabeth explained, he touched lives with his ministry of the Good News of Christ just as Ste. Tulle touched the lives of the villagers of Cucuron. There may well be people alive today who are Christians because of each of these forgotten saints. And Elizabeth's point was this: each of us touches others with our ministry of the Good News. An act of loving-kindness, a moment of forgiveness, a smile of welcome, a simple "I'll remember you in my prayers" may be the brief spark of God's grace that turns a life around or opens a heart to God. No one will remember, no one may even know, but God does. He works through all of us 'forgotten saints' to spread love in His world.

My God

2009-05-22T07:57:00.003-05:00

"I come to you this morning with praise & song
Praise for the beauty of Creation,
Praise for peace, reconciliation, harmony,
Praise for your work in the world.
I sing your praise in hymn, in songs of the people,
in great orchestral composition.
All music sings praise to God."

Excerpt from my poem, My God, written 3/08

My Ministry

2009-05-16T19:31:00.003-05:00

I was startled when Mary spoke to me about this blog, Dona Nobis Pacem, and referred to it as 'my ministry.' I mumbled something about 'it's just some thoughts I have about things on my mind,' letting my voice trail off into that no-man's land of 'let's not talk about this...it makes me uncomfortable.' We didn't discuss it any further, but I've been thinking about it ever since. Do I have a 'ministry?' It's kind of like asking 'am I a Christian?' I don't have a good answer for either. Saying yes to either question would take 'way more self-confidence than I have right now. I used to refer to myself as a 'baby Christian,' one just learning, in Christian infancy. I'm much too old to be a baby anything, so I gave up that terminology. I'm still learning and exploring though, and I know I've found where I need to be in the Episcopal Church. So what about this ministry issue? It sounds a bit pretentious, doesn't it? After all, who am I to minister? I'm a seeker, a learner, a sponge for knowledge, not someone who has answers for others. I'm currently reading a newly-published book called "Your Faith Your Life: An Invitation to the Episcopal Church." As I was reading the chapter on identifying what God is calling me to do, I came across this startling sentence: "The Episcopal Church recognizes all baptized people as ministers of God's kingdom...everyone who's been baptized shares a common ministry: representing Christ and his church." It goes on to say that 99% of God's people are called to this important lay ministry. So maybe sharing my thoughts, my questions and my uncertainties is a form of ministry. I bring God to your attention when you read this blog; maybe that's exactly what He wants for both of us today.

Me, God, and the Other

2009-05-10T09:11:00.005-05:00

The readings from last evening's service with the Bishop were from Acts and 1 John. The Acts verses tell the story of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch with whom Philip shares the good news of Christ. 1 John repeats words from other places in the New Testament which instruct us to love others as God loves us. I see a common thread in these two very different passages, one that enlightens my understanding of how to be God's child. The Ethiopian is reading Isaiah and Philip asks him this simple question: "Do you understand what you are reading?" And the Ethiopian answers: "How can I, unless someone guides me?" (Acts 8:30-31) Discernment requires an Other. In 1 John the theme of loving others is re-iterated over and over: "...let us love one another....we also ought to love one another....he who loves God should love his brother also." (1 John 4:7-21) Love requires not only God, but an Other. In both passages, the Other is vital to abiding with God...Others who might instruct us, Others whom we are instructed to love. To me, this says that a relationship between just me and God is incomplete; only when Other is included do I live as God's child. This is why my community of faith is so important to me, why it is vital to share stories with the Others in my life to learn from each other, to support the other in life's struggles. Even in the silence of corporate prayer, my connection with the Others around me strengthens my connection to God. The Other is why God calls His children into service in the world. Here is what God says to me: a life of love is among us, not between us...it is me, God and the Other.

Angel of Wildness

2009-05-09T09:55:00.003-05:00

Today I celebrated the Angel of Abundance at Musings from Red Bell Farm. Here I'd like to celebrate the Angel of Wildness. My spirit yearns for wildness just as it yearns for community and home. I find God in all these places. This is part of a blessing from John O'Donohue's, To Bless the Space Between Us.

"May the Angel of Wildness disturb the places

Where your life is domesticated and safe,

Take you to the territories of true otherness

Where all that is awkward in you

Can fall into its own rhythm."

No Pressure, Right?

2009-05-06T20:44:00.003-05:00

Just a quick update to whine a bit. I'm the chosen one for this Saturday's 5pm service at church. Not only am I helping serve the Holy Eucharist, I'm also the lector/litanist which means I'm reading everything except the Gospel lesson. So what's the pressure? I've done all these things before....Oh, did I forget to mention that the Bishop Alan Scarfe is the celebrant for this service??? No pressure here, right?

A Foggy Morning

2009-04-30T10:33:00.005-05:00

I awoke this morning to a mild morning hushed by a blanket of pea-soupy fog. As I drove along my gravel road, I glimpsed a pheasant as he scooted across the road and into the ditch out of my path. I remembered to slow down, to respect the right-of -way of others. Even on Interstate 35, the fog was thick enough to cause everyone to turn on headlights and stay alert. Life is like this a lot; I have to remind myself to take a deep breath and slow down, to stay alert for God's messages, to shine a light into the dark places. At one point on my drive into work, I experienced a brief moment of disorientation. The fog obscured all my usual landmarks...where the heck was I? Had I missed my exit? I feel adrift in my life like this at times. I keep moving, but to where? I have to trust that God is there with me, that He knows where this road is going even when I don't. Once I made it into the city, traffic crawled to stop and go along Fleur Dr. As frustrating as it was to sit there stopped in traffic, seeing only red tail lights as they disappeared slowly into the fog, I had to remind myself that I'm not in control, that God is directing this traffic called life. I might never know why my life crawls at too slow a pace or speeds up so I can barely catch my breath. I might never know why one dream stops and another begins. All this unknown is okay, though. God knows; I don't need to. All I need to do is trust.

Becoming An Easter Person

2009-04-26T09:15:00.003-05:00

Last evening Elizabeth spoke about Easter in her homily. No, not about the holiday we celebrated on April 12th, but of Easter, the time now, after Christ's resurrection. I have to admit, I've always been one of those people who Elizabeth referenced in the message; one who checked off the holiday on the calendar. "Okay, we've done that; I've sent Easter cards to the grandkids. Now I can start thinking about...." But as Elizabeth explained, Easter is not just about Christ's suffering on the cross or rising from the tomb. It's about what happens next; it's about the 'but' that Luke uses over and over as he tells the story. "But...they found the stone rolled away." "...but..they did not believe them." (the words of the women) "But him they did not see." All these things happened after Christ's death and all of these things are the rest of the story, the story of being an Easter person. Christ comes again and again, patiently explaining his story, God's story. "Yes, I suffered. Yes, I died, Yes, I come again to you to fulfill the Scriptures. And yes, because I did all these things, I am always there for you, always present to guide, to comfort, to help you, to rejoice with you. I am real and because I am real, I stand with you. Not just on Easter morning, but always. You are my Easter people."

Celtic Worship

2009-04-24T19:34:00.004-05:00

Last Sunday evening Edith and I attended a Celtic worship service at her church, St. James. It was a small group, maybe 30-40 people, who gathered in this 1905 church built of beautiful creamy stone. The dark wood pews, paneling and arched beams set off the jewel-like stained glass windows of the Anglican-style church. It felt so peaceful and refreshing to listen to the harp play soft Celtic melodies. The liturgy was traditional Episcopalian, but the prayers were Celtic, much like this one:

MY SOUL'S HEALER
My soul's Healer,
Keep me at even,
Keep me at morning,
Keep me at noon,
On rough course faring,
Help and safeguard
My means this night.
I am tired, astray, and stumbling,
Shield me from snare and sin.

It was a lovely close to a wonderful weekend.

A Blessing of Renewal at Easter

2009-04-12T10:52:00.004-05:00

To Come Home to Yourself

May all that is unforgiven in you...be released.

May your fears yield...their deepest tranquilities.

May all that is unlived in you..blossom into a future graced with love.

John O'Donohue

Guest Commentary: The Golden Rule

2009-04-11T07:26:00.002-05:00

I regularly read an online newspaper column written by an acquaintance, Rich Mayfield. I met Rich several years ago when he was pastoring Lord of the Mountains Lutheran church in Dillon, CO. This is where my good friend, Anne, attends church and when I'd visit her, we'd always make Sunday service part of our weekend. Rich is a vibrant speaker who has the knack of provoking some really deep thoughts with his well-delivered, profound sermons. He's retired now and writes a weekly column on 'this and that' for the Summit Daily, a newspaper based in Dillon. I share with you today's column on the Golden Rule. I especially like the end of it when he quotes one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott. Sometimes other people just get it right...thought I'd share.

Read it here

As I researched this entry, I found that Rich has his own blog, Reconstructing Christianity. Try it out!