Stop Wishing, Start Traveling: We Make the Road by Walking, Chapter 14

Beginning last Sunday, our church began a journey with Brain McLaren's book We Make the Road by Walking. The best way I know how to describe it is as a devotional book. Each short chapter considers a few Bible texts along with some themes of the church year. The chapters end with questions that include opportunities for meditation and action. In my humble opinion, it is just the right book for our parish to engage in small group or individual spiritual formation.

Our small groups meet at the church on Sundays and Wednesdays. At the end of the week, I hope to post a reflection here on our conversations. These reflections are meant to support our small groups, and those who are doing individual study. Wherever you are, I hope you'll follow along with us; maybe even start your own small group. 

The book is designed to follow the church year. However, McLaren was aware that many churches begin their studies in late August, early September. We decided to wait and start the study with Advent, the beginning of the church year, which means we started with Chapter 14: Promised Land, Promised Time.  

Isaiah 40: 9-11 (NRSV)

Get you up to a high mountain,

   O Zion, herald of good tidings;
lift up your voice with strength,
   O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings,
   lift it up, do not fear;
say to the cities of Judah,
   ‘Here is your God!’ 
See, the Lord God comes with might,
   and his arm rules for him;
his reward is with him,
   and his recompense before him. 
He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
   he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his bosom,
   and gently lead the mother sheep. 

The season of Advent is the season of prophets. During this time, the prophets (including John the Baptist) try to raise our awarenenss and prepare our hearts for God's work in the world. This is ancient work begun thousands of years ago. 

When I was a child, the prophets were the bearded, old men who said strange things about six-winged beasts. To my teenage ears, the young activist, I thrived off of some of the prophets words, like Amos' image of justice rolling down like water. It was in seminary that I learned the prohets were the ones who called Israel back to YHWH. 

McLaren writes, "Prophets in the Bible have a fascinating role as custodians of the best hopes, desires, and dreams of their society. They challenge people to act in ways consistent with those hopes, desires, and dreams." (p64). This definition caught my attention. I spent some time reflecting on this description of a prophet. To me, it is a liberating definition; it opens the way for any person in the community to be a prophet. Parents can be prophets for their children; preachers prophets for their churches; board members prophets for their organizations. Of course, as Christians, we add some specifics like: how do our hopes, desires, and dreams align with God's way? Together, McLaren's definition and our discerning questions, allow for our lives to become vehicles for God's work in the world.

The season of Advent is also a season of hope. This is a time when we prepare for Christ's coming into the world, an act that changes the world. God with us, Emmanuel, creates a bond between creation and our creator that cannot be dissolved. This bond gives us the hope that even in our darkest days the light will always scatter the darkness. 

And McLaren makes an important disctinction between hoping and wishing. "Wishing is a substitue for action," he writes, "...In contrast, our desires, hopes, and dreams for the future guide us in how to act now." It occured to us, in our small groups, that we don't often make this distinction. We hope for things (like world peace) and never really act on them. Or we wish for things (like more money in our bank account) that become primary motivators for acting. Neither is bad; our wishes and hopes, though, don't always represent our best hopes, desires, and dreams of our society. And, we might resist acting on our hopes if we are afraid. Thus, our hopes become wishes.

This is why the prophets are so important. They invite to stop wishing and start hoping. Do you hope for world peace, they say, then act as a peace maker. Do you wish the hungry had food, they ask, then feed them. Do you have hope that justice will rule, they write, then be a justice-bearer. They call us out of our fear and complacency, and invite us to action. 

Driving down Lebanon Road, a friend and I pass the same Travel Agency. We both got a chuckle out of their sign this week: stop wishing start traveling. What a coincidence! This sign sums it all up: if we hope to be closer to God, we must act. If we wish for a deeper faith, we must act. If we hope for Christ this Christmas, we must seek Him. 

I wonder, what are your hopes and dreams? What are the hopes and dreams of our community? How do these hopes, dreams, and desires unite with God's desires, God's way? 

Who are the prophets calling us to action? What keeps us from acting? 

How will we be bearers of Christ's life into the world? How will we be prophets? How will our lives bear prophetic hope into the world?

Keep awake... (Annual Meeting 2014)

The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids is the first of two parables. They come at the end of Jesus' teaching about "the coming of the Son of Man." He is teaching his disciples about his return, after his death and resurrection. He is preparing them for when he will, in fact, come as king: the king of heaven.

The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids is a parable of conundrums. It leaves us with some questions. We might wonder: how does this story tell a story of God's kingdom? Why don't the five bridesmaids give up some of their oil? Why does the bridegroom reject the other five bridesmaids? Where is God in this parable; where are we? The point of the parable, though, has little to do with these questions. The point of the parable is this: Jesus is coming, be ready!

Keep awake, therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour. In other words, the kingdom of heaven is near; it can appear at any moment. These words have elicited fear and joy in the lives of people for thousands of years. While others rejoice in the Lord's imminent return, others wonder if they will be rejected.  I wonder what it means to imagine that Jesus might return. Tell us, the disciples ask, ...what will be the sign of your coming and the end of the age... Can we imagine asking this question?

Five of the bridesmaids, for some reason, do not have oil for their lamps. When they ask the other five to share, they are refused. Now, I have heard many sermons explain the reasons why the bridesmaids do not share. I even accept some of these reasons. What I notice, though, is that, in the end, the five bridesmaids without oil are rejected. And the other five bridesmaids could've done something about that. Maybe it wasn't their responsibility. Maybe it wasn't even expected. It is, though, what I expect: that the bridesmaids will share. Why don't they share; and how would the story change, if they did?

Every Sunday, after church, a group of 9 - 12 young people gather upstairs in the Parish Hall. They put off lunch so that we can be together and study the Bible.  And that's what we do. They are also looking at their lives: what they believe and how that forms who they are. They have journals; we pray; we laugh; we ask questions - and sometimes we answer them. It might be the best hour of my week.

I want to share with you some numbers because, in their own way, numbers tell a story. Our Sunday average attendance hovers somewhere around 104. When I first arrived, I was pleased when we had 15 at the 8:30 service, now I worry when there's less than 23. Our pledge income has grown from $175,000 in 2012 to $185,000 for 2015. Our non-pledge income hovers near $15,000. Never mind the several hundred thousand that we raised this year for the new instrument. In other words, we don't worry about paying the electric bill. We don't even worry about the Reading Camp budget. Here's two more numbers.  This year, since last October, we buried five members of this parish. We walked alongside no less than five members facing serious illness.

What do these numbers tell us? They reveal we are showing up; we are offering our time, our finances, and our hearts to one another. They tell us we are sharing our oil with one another. We are being church: a community of the faithful.

Every year Reading Camp happens in June, except this year, when it was in August. On August 3rd, I found myself walking near the shore of Haines Alaska. Thank God for cell phones! I called Sue Ferguson and Jan Sheffield. How are you? I asked. And, of course, they both told me everything was fine; they were tired already; everything would be great. And, of course, it was.

On Monday the 4th, they (along with countless others) opened our doors to 18 children. Throughout the week, these children became better readers. They also got to swim, play, and even make goo. They were fed, taken care of; they were loved.

When I got here on Thursday, I found 18 very energetic children, and many, many tired volunteers. On Friday, we gathered in here to celebrate the children. We gave them each a book case, a bag full of school supplies, a bag of books, and a gold helium balloon. And we gave them so much more. I watched as Thomas and McKay led them in camp songs, as Sue and Jan gave them pep talks, and I saw us loving. I saw us sharing ourselves with them.

Now, here's the thing, when we give, it means we have a little less for ourselves. Maybe the five bridesmaids don't share their oil because they are afraid of running out. Sometimes we don't love, or share, or give because we're not sure what will be left.

I've just shared with you a bunch of numbers. And I tried to show how they tell a story. These numbers, though, tell more than one story. They tell a story of generosity. They tell a story of how we are giving pieces of ourselves away. They tell the story of a people who are working hard; and of a people who are grieving. They tell the story of how we are searching for ways to encounter God's kingdom here, in this place.

And so, I want to give you something. I want to offer us something to renew us, to refresh us, to give rest to our souls. I wonder if you would join me on a journey for our souls? I have a chosen a devotion book, We Make the Road by Walking. Starting the first week of Advent, this book will be our guide for individual and group devotion. There will be a group that will gather after the Wednesday noon service. There will be a group that will gather on Sunday mornings. And, there can be more: maybe Sunday afternoons, maybe in someone's home. The goal is to study the Bible, to talk about the way God is acting in our lives, to share our faith with one another. Will you join me because I would like to share some of my oil with you...

Ever since I have known this community, there has been one thing that stands out: if we could do it all, we would. And the truth is, we are limited. There are only so many of us, so many hours in a day, so many days in a year. How will we focus our passions, our dreams, our vocations? How will we respond to God's presence in our midst?

I believe one of the greatest things we do together is eat. And the highlight of our eating together (other than the Eucharist, of course) is the Pig Roast. Every year, as we drive onto the Clark Farm, my heart races with anticipation: for the fun, the laughter, and the pig! On that Sun day in August this year, I noticed that our dear Carla Liverman was not at church. This sat with me throughout the day, and I assumed I would see her at the Clark's. You also noticed. You are the ones who called. You are the ones who went to her house when she didn't answer. You called me to tell me there was an ambulance at Carla's house. It was you who helped the ambulance drivers. It was you who showed up at the hospital, stayed with her at home, took care of her. Over the next few weeks, two things happened: we rallied together to take care of Carla, and Carla made a miraculous recovery. Carla was brave and let us help her; and we were brave and offered her our help. We shared our oil with one another.

Today, I ask you for one thing, and one thing only: please keep showing up. Keep coming on Sunday. Keep coming to events. Keep volunteering, keep giving, keep persevering. Keep telling stories, keep challenging one another. Keep loving God, and keep loving one another.

It will not always be easy. We may grow tired. We might get lost. Things might not always go as planned. We will have moments of sadness. And we will have moments of great joy! We may discover that we're about to run out of oil, or that someone has shown up without any oil. Keep awake, therefore, for your know neither the day or the hour. There is one assurance in that statement; it is the assurance that Jesus is coming, the kingdom of heaven is near. May this assurance give us strength and courage to be God's people in the world.

God's peace be with you,

Amy

Beauty, Risk, Learning, and Sabbath: Some Thoughts on Vacation and Professional Development

I have three days of some time away from church left.  It's been a total of three weeks: two for vacation and one for professional development.  Most people will not believe that I'm an introvert, and I am.  I was in need of spending some time with my family AND of spending some time alone.  So, I have done both.  For two weeks, I set aside email and thoughts of the office to be with my family.  We had a great time!  And, this last week, I spent some time alone: reading, even eating, in quiet.  All of this time has given me the space I need to feel ready to return to church.  Now that parts of me are full, I am ready to share my self, and my faith, again.

I want to share with you four experiences from my time away.  My hope is that by telling my story you will find some nourishment for your own story, your own spiritual path.

First, I want to tell you about visiting an art museum for the first time in many, many years - with three children.  The focus of our family vacation was a massive hotel that includes water slides, lots of water slides.  I, however, need more than water slides.  So, I insisted that, on the way there, we stop at an art museum.  You can imagine the resistance from my family, and you can imagine that I was stubborn, in my own way.

A friend gave me some wonderful advice, "Stop at the help desk," she said, "They will have something for the children to do."  Indeed, they did: a scavenger hunt with a prize at the end.  So, off we went running (if you know my son, you understand why I say running) from room to room looking at as much art as possible and completing the scavenger hunt.  AND IT WAS WONDERFUL!  The kids loved it.  It was incredible to see my children's faces change as they took in beautiful, not so beautiful, and even some curious art.  My husband and I, somehow, found some space to talk with one another about the art .  And the kids each got a prize (yay!). 

As we loaded up in the van, I felt satisfied.  I also realized that something inside of me felt nourished.  Some piece of my soul, perhaps buried or forgotten, rose up and said Thank you for that. You see, I had forgotten how important quiet spaces full of art are to my soul, my spirituality, my self, my experience of God...

It was not long before we arrived at the massive hotel/water park.  My husband, saint that he is, quickly took the kids to the water slides.  Meanwhile, the baby and I went to the local grocery and rested until dinner time.  The next day it was family time at the water park (yay).  My two older kiddos dragged me up to the first water slide.  I tried to be enthusiastic.  And there's one thing you should know, one essential element to this story, I am terrified of heights.  This fear makes riding roller coasters, going on water slides, climbing tall towers, you get the picture, a bit difficult.  However, there are risks I'm willing to take for my kids - mainly so they'll think I'm strong and brave, and because I love them more than life itself.  Now, you may not think that going on water slides is risky.  However, the week prior to my vacation a woman died falling off a roller coaster in Texas - just sayin'.  Anyway, we had a great time and I'm glad I went down those water slides with my kids.  Mostly, because it reminded me that risk - whatever it may be - for the sake of love has its own rewards (even if it is a first world risk of water slides at a nice hotel).

My third story has to do with reading, studying, or learning.  As I was preparing to take this week of professional development, a colleague asked me, "Will you be able to do it?  I've never been able to really take a week on my own to read and study; I need more accountability."  And it's true.  Having a professor, study group, or colleagues to hold you accountable has always been an important part of my own professional development.  The good news is that I had to read one of these books for a conference I'm attending in September, and I take my job very seriously.  I wanted to be able to tell my parish about what I had read, to share my learning with them. 

This week I've read four wonderful books.  I will write more about each of them on this blog in the coming weeks.  I want to tell you today how grateful I am that I took the time to read these books.  I've begun to answer some questions I've pondered over the last two years as a Rector and as a Christian.  I've begun to ask a different set of questions.  The challenge set before me is to continue what has begun this week.  I've remembered that now I must take the time, every day, to study, to learn, and to pray.  It is essential, to my faith and ministry, to make these as much a priority as the people with whom I minister.  Together, learning and people, form, for me, a full ministry, a true portrait of the priesthood.

Lastly, to sum up, I want to encourage you to make time for Sabbath.  By Sabbath, I mean time to rest - to fill your soul, to play, to risk, to learn.  The creation story reminds us that even God rests: the creator of the universe took time to stop, to not work, to walk in the garden.  I am so very grateful, especially to my parish, for this time of rest, play, and learning.  It has nourished essential pieces of my soul.  I pray that you will make the time to do the same.

God's peace be with you,
Amy