Being Alive

Last weekend I had the opportunity to travel to Columbia, MO for a youth conference. There I heard Mark Yaconelli speak about Contemplative Youth Ministry. Mark's premise is that we are spiritual beings in need of others to help remind us to take time to notice God's presence in our lives and give thanks. He equips youth ministers and workers with ancient spiritual practices as a way to become more invested in their own spiritual life. Mark discovered that if the adults are invested in their spiritual lives they will be more prepared to help teach, guide, and be open to the spiritual lives of the youth (and all of those around them).

One of the things Mark focused on was the idea of being alive. At first glance, this concept seems a bit odd. If you are breathing and reading this blog you are alive, right? Mark defined being alive having the ability slow down and notice the beautiful sunset, having an investment in the lives of others, having healthy relationships, and the ability to be present with others.

I was quite taken with this concept. How often do I stop to give thanks for the huge mysterious moon in the sky? Do I tell my friends and family that I care for them as often as I would like? Do I let the stress of my day control my mood and ability to be present?

Some days I may do a better job of being alive than others. Other days I will need someone in my life or in creation to remind me of what it is to be alive. There lies the value of sharing this journey with others. We are all spiritual beings in need of others to help remind us to see God's activity, take notice, and give thanks.

For more information about Mark Yaconelli and Contemplative Youth Ministry Visit: http://www.ymsp.org/welcome.html

In the Bleak Midwinter

Last week I participated in a worship service called, "In the Bleak Midwinder." The service was intended to focus on our state of being in the cold, harsh, mid of winter. The weather the day of the service was sunny and 60 degrees.

Today that service seems appropriate. As I gaze out my window a light wintry mixture continues to fall. The world seems quieter and most everyone is seeking refuge indoors. Many children, students, and employees are celebrating a snow day. The clouds brought a gift of rest and a break from our daily routines packaged in a white wet mix.

During the service there was time to mediate and focus the winters of our lives. We heard a poem and prayer about the harsh death of winter. Even though I am experiencing the bleak midwinter, I find myself quite glad. Today I experienced the calm the snow brought in the bleak midwinter. I suspect if I lived further north I would be praying for more sun and warmer temperatures and understand the word bleak more fully.

Winter can be a harsh time of clearing and of death, a time for us to mediate and reflect on our lives. May it also be a time of calm and rest in the bleakest of moments.

take this bread

For Christmas I received a book called, take this bread, by Sara Miles. This is a memoir of a twenty-first-century Christian. Her story is captivating. The back cover of the book sums up her story, "Early one morning, for no earthly reason, Sara Miles, raised an atheist wandered into a church and received communion, and found herself transformed-embracing a faith she'd once scorned..." Miles discovers a religion centered on real hunger, real food, and real bodies. She turns the communion table, where she first received the bread, into a food pantry.

The image is profound. The communion table, where we share bread and the cup week after week, a place for people who are hungry to receive food. In my estimation, Miles takes Jesus' invitation to heart and discovered a way to make it real for all people in her community. I am captivated by her bravery and her openness to God's invitation.

Each week that I have come to the communion table since I have been reading Miles' story, I have thought about the food pantry spread out on the communion table. I have thought about how we are all connected by sharing a meal at Jesus' table. Through Christ, we share the table with St. Gregory's Episcopal Church serving their community grapes, beans, bread, and numerous other groceries as part of their communion celebration. It turns out there is room for more than bread and wine at the table.

Miles has got me thinking about the table. What does it mean for all to truly be invited to the table? How can we extend the welcome and share a meal together throughout the week? How do we share bread with our neighbors? In this book, I am finding more questions than answers and I am quite grateful.

Baby Jesus, Santa, Charlie Brown, and a flock of chicks

Christmas feels very different as an adult. I remember as a child the excitement and wonder I used to feel as Christmas drew closer and closer. As an adult, my energy of wonder and excitement have been redirected to other tasks. I am told having children brings some of those feelings back. As I am a few years away from having children, I keep trying other ways to find that special feeling.

This past Sunday that feeling, that wonder, came in four different ways. I experienced my first Triptych service at WGCC. A Triptych is a piece of artwork with three door accentuating the center panel. For several years WGCC has invited characters to come and be the still life pieces of the picture of the shepherds, angels, and wise people gathered to see Jesus'. So, this past Sunday morning, I got to see Jesus as played by infant Sydney Woodrome. Right before the doors opened to reveal the holy family, I heard loud crying sounds. But as the doors opened, I saw a majestic infant playing the part of the peaceful, quiet, Jesus child. It was beautiful.

After the service Brent and I were invited to share a meal at some church members' home. Following the meal, our host read us a story about Santa Claus (this was for the children, but I wanted to hear the story too). The story was about a Santa who visits sick children during the year brings them medical supplies, helps build wells, and works to save the environment. This is a Santa I can support. As the story ended Santa paid us a visit. We gave Santa the medical supplies we had collected to take to our Global Mission Partners in Haiti. It was one of my favorite moments with Santa.

I had one more event on Sunday, a Christmas party with the Youth Group. We met in fellowship hall and shared food that we had all made for one another. Then we watched Charlie Brown's Christmas. Charlie Brown always helps remind me what it is all about this time of year. In the past, the youth group has brought small gifts to give one another. This year one of our sponsors suggested we bring that one or two dollars to the group and pool our money to buy a flock of chicks (a $20 invest) from Heifer International. Heifer is working to eliminate hunger and poverty by providing families live stock so they can become self sustaining. After our party I counted the money we had collected. We had enough money to buy seven flocks of chicks. It was such a wonderful gift.

In celebrating an infant child during Advent, we know God's love in the world. Love has the power to permeate our lives and make us give generous of ourselves to one another. As I reflect upon that day in this advent season, I realize the four pieces of my day were deeply connected. All the wonder and excitement of Christmas rushed into my life because of the infant child, Santa Claus, Charlie Brown, and a few flocks of chicks.

Watch and Wait

In a season that invites us to give of our time, our talent, our food, and our resources, it is vastly important to give food, talent, resources, and time for ourselves! Today I was reminded of the value of making time for ourselves.

Snow lightly covered the ground last night. So, this morning I planned a little extra time for travel to my first appointment. As I came to the second stop light on my journey I noticed traffic was abnormally heavy. After a few rounds of the traffic light, I noticed the left arrow had been skipped time and time again. So, I sat at the light, waiting. Inside I wanted to scream, but I quickly realized there was nothing I could do. So instead of getting angry I tried my best to be patient and the light did change, eventually. I even reflected for a moment on all this waiting we do for the Christ child to come again into our lives.

As I continued on my journey, I hit more traffic. I called my spiritual director, the place I was headed, to let her know that I was running late. Soon after I called I realized traffic had stopped moving again. There was a train. I sat in my car calmly and peacefully eagerly awaiting to get to my appointment.

Later today I made a trip to the post office. There was one person working the post office counter. So I grabbed a ticket and waited. As I left the post office in a good mood, I realized this day could have gone south in a hurry. But, I had taken a moment for me and for my spirituality today and that gave me peace. As I watched and waited today, normally I would have wanted to rush the traffic along or to have gotten through the line much quicker. But today, on a day that I made intentional time for me and my spiritual well-being, I was calm.

I pray you find time for yourself and your spiritual selves this advent season. May you be filled with unexpected moments of peace and calm in the midst of all your waiting.

The wonder of the season

Last week I had the opportunity to see old home movies and photographs. Most people cringe at the thought of watching past moments. I found myself a bit like Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation minus being trapped in an attic. My eyes watered and my heart filled with joy.

The videos and pictures ranged from my childhood to my dad's childhood. There were several pictures of my mother and father as a young married couple. During one of the slideshows on the projector a picture of my Aunt Bessie flashed on the scene. Aunt Bessie lived to be 101 years-old. She was sharp, witty, and tough. When the picture came up my dad yelled to mom, "Come check out this picture." When my mom saw the pictures she kissed her fingers and reached her hand up to the screen and said, "Hi, Aunt Bessie. I miss you."

I was moved by her action. Her simple gesture displayed her love and care for this member of our family. As I reflect on this moment I am struck by how the memories of Aunt Bessie flood into my mind. I miss her most at Halloween, but all throughout the holiday season.

The season of the holidays can be quite wondrous. Pictures and stories have the power to flood our minds. Memories of loved ones fill our hearts. May your advent season be filled with wonder and memories of loved ones past and present.

Post-Election Reflections

Over the past week I attended two ordination services. It was wonderful to gather with friends and family to celebrate the life and ministry of my colleagues and friends. While sharing a meal before one of the services I had a holy post election moment.

On the eve before the election I wondered what things might look like on the other side of the election and in Nebraska while preparing for an ordination service I witnessed more history. A 92 year-old Caucasian Republican man from Nebraska invited an African American Homosexual Democrat woman from St. Louis to join him in singing. Both individuals were passionate singers. Separately each of them could ‘bring it’, but their voices united singing Amazing Grace gave me chills. I had the urge to record the moment and send it to President-elect Obama. The 15-20 people gathered in the room all ceased conversation the moment they began singing, because we all knew we were on holy ground. Labels ceased to matter. For a moment things seemed less complicated. It was simple, we were humanity gathered to celebrate and share life.

Life is not without complications, but every once and a while it is good to experience the beautiful diversity of humanity living in peace.