(Ir)Reverend Ramblings

During this Lenten season about 20 of us have been working our way through Marjorie J. Thompson’s Lenten study, Forgiveness. It is a slim volume and the study guide is brief but it has fostered great discussion over the weeks. We have one more session together this Holy Week. Some participants have said this study could go on for a much longer time as it has taken us deep into self-reflection.

We have been surprised, with Marjorie’s leading, to realize how much forgiveness is dependent on self-awareness and self-reflection. It is in knowing ourselves and in understanding our own hurt that we can move to a place of forgiveness, whether it is to forgive our self or another.

I just finished watching a three-episode BBC production called Mrs. Wilson. It is based on the true life story of the main actor’s grandmother. This woman discovered, after her husband’s death, that he was married to two other women and had fathered several children other than her two. As she digs into the mystery of her husband’s past, trying to uncover the truth, she realizes that her marriage was based on lies and deception. She seeks counsel with her priest. She asks how she can forgive someone who wronged her so. He replies, “Understanding comes first, then forgiveness.”

Understanding is not always easy when hurts are deep and conflicts are complex. Our Lenten study has shown us that the road to forgiveness is not an easy stroll but an uphill climb with sometimes more than occasional setbacks. But we have agreed that the call to forgive is deep in our faith and teaching and so is something we must work toward. Even if it is hard.

In a few days we will read the passion of Jesus where, in the midst of painful crucifixion, he asks those tormenting him to be forgiven. What stalwart commitment to the way of unconditional love. His example of pure compassion is difficult to mirror but it is important that we try.

A few weeks ago, in my Sunday sermon, I used a word that was new to me, I used it because it seemed to fit what I was preaching on. It continues to be a word that resonates with me. “Coddiewomple”. Never heard of it? I am not surprised. It is an old English word that means, “going purposefully to an unknown destination”. I like that idea. Here I am, moving forward purposefully, even though I am not really sure where I am going to end up.

Coddiewomple has come to my mind again today as I prepare for the Congregation’s Annual Meeting to be held tomorrow. I am trying to anticipate what responses the various reports will inspire. I am trying to guess what some of the questions and concerns will be as we look back over the year just past. And, I am trying to imagine what the future will look like as we chart our course and look forward. I am guessing that it will feel a lot like coddiewompling. We know we are moving forward purposefully … but not absolutely certain where we will end up.

Does that sound like faith? Does faith mean we know where we are going? Or, does it mean we go, even while not knowing our absolute destination? I tend to think it is the later. As the old joke says, “If you want to make God laugh, tell God your plans.” Our certainty is that we journey in the companionship of Christ, we go with the hovering blessing of the Holy Spirit, but only God knows the destination! That is hard for those of us who like to have a plan with goals, objectives, benchmarks and checkpoints and to know what it is going to cost!

Congregational life, and, in fact ministry in general, requires a great deal of openness. Often I have thought of something that, in my mind would be brilliant, but, nope – not of interest. Then, an idea comes out of nowhere, and it excites and inspires people beyond imagining.

So, no matter what ever happens at the Annual Meeting I feel pretty sure we will continue to coddiwomple into the future doing ministry that surprises and is blessed and nurtured by the Holy Spirit.

P.S. – Thanks for your response to my last blog about prayer. I appreciated hearing from you.

Dear readers – how very sorry I am that I have taken an unannounced sabbatical from blogging. Do you find that sometimes life gets in the way? Such has been the case for me. Nothing unusual, a bit of a holiday, the usual house duties and work responsibilities and, perhaps the ennui that comes with February, have combined to make me negligent in my blogging duty. But I am here today and happy to reconnect.

What are the things that rise to the surface to share with you? Joys and Concerns and Prayers. These are three elements of every Sunday service here at the church. The congregation is invited, before the Prayers of the People to share the blessings and challenges of life in what we call “Joys and Concerns”, the people and situations named then become part of our prayer time. It can be a rich and celebratory time and also, sometimes, a sobering time as we hear the burdens and joys that colour people’s lives.

I think a lot about prayer. Why we do it. How we do it. When we do it. What it means. We have had two members of our congregation endure lengthy, invasive surgeries in the last month. Each time a Prayer Network has been established with someone dedicating 30 minutes of the day to pray with particular focus on the person having surgery. We have had enough people taking the 30 minute shift that the person has been held in prayer for the whole day. It has been a resource of strength and comfort for the person in surgery – knowing that she is held in prayer by her congregation. It has also been empowering for the people praying. It gives an avenue to support the individual while drawing on faith. It has been a gesture of kindness that carries the huge impact of prayer.

I have been a bit surprised at how readily people wanted to participate in the prayer network. It has touched people deeply in heart and spirit, both the ones praying and the ones being prayed for.

I am exploring ideas for ways to strengthen this ministry here and am curious to know what you do in your networks – church, community, family to hold one another in prayer. Is it organized? Formalized? Do you use specific prayer books? Do you sing a hymn while you pray? Please, let me know by comment below or private message how and when and where you pray for yourself or for others – I want to know. And, I promise it won’t be such a time gap until I blog again!

Today, January 30th, is “Let’s Talk” day, sponsored by Bell Canada. I have mixed feelings. What do you think about it all? According to the advertisements, if we do our part by talking and tweeting, Bell will contribute money to Mental Health. I know that mental health care needs all the dollars it can get. My ambivalence comes from the reality that we live in a country that brags about universal health care, while we know that this does not come close to adequate care for those who with mental health needs. How can it be universal if one whole sector of health is overlooked?

The publicity of this day may well help diffuse some of the stigma but, as one friend pointed out, do we only increase people’s vulnerability? If they share their mental health struggles, knowing there is not enough help to support their struggles, where does that leave them? How will their sharing be received? Might talking about their situation only make things worse for them with little aid to support them?

In my 39 years of ministry I know that the most difficult illnesses, for the patient and the family network, is the range of illness that impact our mental health. A few years ago we did a ‘Chat Room’ during the season of Lent. There were three evenings of presentations and conversations around mental illness. It was our most popular series and people still talk about it. Many who came were desperate to know how to help and support family and friends who suffer and struggle day by day.

I wonder what I can best do to support those who struggle with mental illness? I know offering a listening ear and companionship is often very valuable. Encouraging and supporting family members who sometimes bear the brunt of the pain is also important. Raising awareness whenever possible is critical too.

Each week at our Sunday morning services we have a time for ‘Joys and Concerns’. People are invited to share the things they are most grateful for and to name prayer requests for concerns they carry. Often we name physical illness … a cancer diagnosis, heart issues, but sometimes we remember to raise up concerns for those who struggle with schizophrenia, depression, addiction, anxiety and their related concerns. I am always grateful on those Sundays that someone has named the reality that many people silently live with. So I guess we should … talk.

There have been many very good movies this year and some that were excellent. I enjoyed The Upside. I thought Glenn Close gave a brilliant portrayal in The Wife. Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper were outstanding in A Star is Born. The always lovable Ryan Gosling did a great turn in First Man. Mary Poppins was fun as was Mama Mia – Here We Go Again and Crazy Rich Asians was, well crazy! I missed some good ones like Bohemian Rhapsody but far and away my favourite for 2018 was The Green Book. I urged anyone who would listen to go and see it. It played for three weeks here in Bracebridge – that’s a long run for our little town.

The Green Book is based on the true story of pianist Dr. Don Shirley who took his trio to do a two month tour in the southern States, The Deep South, as he called it. On the surface of it that is not surprising. What made it surprising is that he was black and it was 1962. He needed a driver and protection and he hired Tony Lip – a tough-talking bouncer from The Bronx. The two were an unlikely pairing and their relationship was prickly and difficult for the first part of their trip. Over time they grew to appreciate each other and they built an unlikely friendship. According to the end notes they remained friends over the decades until their deaths.

There is much about The Green Book to take in. First the title refers to an actual book produced for ‘Negroes’ who needed to find a place to stay as they traveled in the States, especially in areas where they were not welcome. Dr. Shirley ran up against the prejudice and racism of the day and Tony Lip was made aware of the deep divide that separated black and white. As the story unfolded each man developed compassion and appreciation of the other.

There were some great lines in the movie. “Genius is not enough you also have to have courage.” “You never win with violence. You only win when you maintain your dignity.” “You can do better.” “It takes courage to change people’s hearts.” But I think my favourite quote comes late in the movie. Dr. Shirley had mentioned that he has a brother but they are estranged. Tony encourages him to reach out to his brother and Dr. Shirley replies, “He knows where to find me.” Big, rough, gruff Tony replies, “The world is full of lonely people afraid to make the first move.” There is a lot to unpack in that statement.

In January of 2017 Great Britain launched a commission on ways to combat loneliness. Recognizing it as a significant social problem Britain established a Ministry for Loneliness. The research leading up to this showed that more than 9 million people in Britain, around 14% of the population, often or always feel lonely. That is a lot of loneliness. I suspect the statistics are similar in Canada.

There were many social and cultural problems exposed in the movie The Green Book. I was not expecting loneliness to be one of them. It became apparent, as the tale unfolded, that while Dr. Shirley faced many challenges one of the big ones was feeling lonely, feeling like he did not fit in.

I like movies for many reasons, entertainment, education, but also when they leaves me thinking. That is why I liked The Green Book so much. It left me thinking about many things. If you haven’t seen it yet… grab some popcorn and watch it.

It is a full moon. The giant orb hangs in the sky like a white marble on a blue-black velvet backdrop. It casts a shimmering glow on the expanse of snow. It is beautiful, making a night that moves an artistic soul to painting a picture, writing a song, penning a poem. On night’s like this I remember the line from the romantic ballad, I’ll Be Seeing You. The line says, “I’ll be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you.”

This week the wonderful American poet Mary Oliver died. She has penned volumes of beautiful poetry. Much of her writing focused on the beauty and wonder of creation. Her poems focused on things as small as a grasshopper and as grand as the landscape. She wrote so beautifully of nature in words simple and profound. In her poem, Wild Geese, she includes these words,

“Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things”

My mother and my husband were each able to recite poetry by memory. They grew up in eras when memorization was part of the school curriculum and learning to appreciate and memorize poetry was required. I wish my era had held such a standard. I cannot recite poetry even though bits and strands of poetic words come to me now and again. Mostly, I am moved when someone else shares the words written by a poetic soul.

In her poem, The Summer Day, Mary Oliver ends with this haunting and eternal question:

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”

Thank you, Mary, for spending your life by bringing the beauty and power of word and idea to us.

I do love this time of year and I found myself standing at the window watching, not just the sun, but also the way it’s light played with the snow and the shadows of the late afternoon. The sun in January can be bright and warming but more often, I find it sheds a cool blue warmth that only a winter sun can give. It sends short shadows at this time of year and dazzles as it sparkles on the ice and snow. Many ‘snowbirds’ leave Canada for these months of short days and long night – some of you might be reading this right now! I like the winter months and the feeling of hibernation they bring.

This past Sunday we sang one of my favourite hymns. It is a seasonal hymn that we can only sing every now and then. It praises the snow and names the beauty of this season. It reminds us that God, the source of all and the creator of all is as present in the silvery frost of as in the beautiful rose.Here is verse two of “All Beautiful the March of Days”

O’er white expanses sparkling pure the radiant morns unfold
the solemn splendours of the night burn brighter through the cold,
life mounts in every throbbing vein, love deepens round the hearth,
and clearer sounds the angel hymn, good will to all on earth.

Happy winter to you!

Have you ever lost something? For months? I don’t mean something simple, I mean something really important? This week it was my Passport. Thankfully I was able to search it out after only a few days. Of course, I had put it somewhere safe, I just couldn’t remember where that safe place was. Pajama drawer – who would ever look for a Passport in their pajamas? But, then I remembered thinking at the time, “Well, I will see this every time I get out clean pajamas and so I will always remember where it is”. Ha!

Last year (and I mean 2018 – seems odd to call it last year). I lost a very precious ring. The story is too long and winding to write about here but I will happily tell you the story if you ask me in person. Suffice it to say, the ring was missing for months and I was heartbroken. It turned up as unexpectedly as I had lost it. This adds to another lost ring story of about eleven years ago. Another precious ring, another heartbreak, another miraculous find. The surprising joy of finding something lost.

Three of the favourite parables of Jesus are about things lost and found – a lost coin, a lost sheep, a lost son. Many people will name one of these as their favourite story. I think that is because so many of us can relate to the story of something being lost and the heartbreak that comes with it countered by the amazing delight when said thing is found.

Jesus told these stories to illustrate God’s great love for us. It staggers me to think that the sheer, tear-filled joy that came to me when I found my lost ring paralleling the joy that God has for me when I have wandered and feel lost but then find myself again in God’s grace and love. Such wonderful stories of God’s great and amazing love. As John Newton wrote in his well-loved hymn, Amazing Grace “I once was lost but now am found.”

I have spent some time the last couple of days getting my 2019 calendar in order. I have been writing in the regular activities like the monthly services at the Seniors residences. I have been noting the festival dates like Ash Wednesday, Good Friday and Easter Monday. And, I have been thinking about when I might take some holidays!

Ha!I can hear your eyes rolling now! Yes, I do still write in a calendar. I carry around a book and when something new comes up I page through to the date and write it in with a pen. So old school! Several people have tried to get me on to entering things in the calendar on my phone and the one on my lap top but I resist. I like paper and pen.

There are two reasons I like to write things in my calendar despite the efficiency, speed and logic of the more modern technological way. I can see the lay out of life in a familiar way and that reassures me. But more importantly I like the way I can look back at the days past and see what happened. I can see dates scratched out and changed, notes to prepare for something coming up, and anticipated trips to outing or visits. I am not a journal writer or diary keeper. I have tried that and I fail miserably. But i write in my calendar and keep them from year to year. This morning I paged through my 2018 calendar and a flood of memories came rushing to me. There was the note abut the play I loved. There was the lunch date with my dear friends I see only twice a year. There was the arrival note for friends flying in to the airport. With each entry I relived the moment and smiled with the happy memory. It was a little trip down memory lane as I got my day underway.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not stuck in the ‘what happened’ phase of things. I am keenly looking forward to 2019 and all it will bring. But, at this January time I do like to linger in the phase of looking back and looking forward. It grounds me and delights me and inspires me.

Every year I remove a handwritten note from one calendar and place it inside the cover of the next year. The note has two scripture verses on it. One is from 2 Timothy 1:7 “God does not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of self-control.” The second is from Isaiah 43: 18 & 19 “Do not dwell on the past. See I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” These serve as good reminders to me. Calendars are important to hold a pattern, and even a direction for our life, they can point to memories of good times now past but they do not hold a life. Like any tool we might use each day they give us a grounding to live faithfully.

In 1992, my beloved and I took a trip. We were gone for 7 months travelling north to Yukon and Alaska then down the western coast to California. We flew to Hawaii, then Australia, then New Zealand, then Fiji and then returned to California where we picked up our vehicle and drove home following ‘Route 66’. We took a lot of pictures. He took photographs and I took slides. In the years after that we traveled to Britain, to Germany and Austria, to Israel. I had a lot of slides! I have not looked at those slides for at least 18 years. But every move I made I carried my huge box of slides with me. Slides and projectors are old technology now. I had three slide projectors in the basement and not one of them worked.

I have been inching towards a decision for two years now. This week I did it. I bagged up all those slides and threw them out. Even as I write that it cramps my heart a bit. So many wonderful memories held in those photos now consigned to the landfill. I do, of course still have albums with Carl’s photographs so not all is lost, but I did decide to toss the slides that I had taken, reserving a few as mementos of happy, lovely days gone by.

It is a funny feeling, this attachment to things. The slides did not hold my memories, my mind holds my memories, but they held a piece of me that I found hard to let go of… a touchstone, a link to the past, a reminder of happy days, and, even though I didn’t ever look at them, they were there, taking up space, collecting dust and both comforting and irritating me every time I walked by the box in the basement.

Given that I have no offspring I knew that I had no one to pass those pictures on to and, seriously, who ever wants to looks at pictures of someone else’s trip? As I made the decision and bagged them up and then put them in the bin at the landfill there was a peculiar sense of liberation. ‘Stuff’ can become a burden, a weight, a shackle. Having too much stuff can become oppressive.

I confess it has been a mingling of regret and liberation and I have not found the exercise to be clearly one or the other. I do have regrets about letting them go and I do have liberation when I go to the basement and see less clutter, less stuff.

I do not find it easy to let go of things. But I also know, as we embark on a new year that I want to feel less encumbered and so some things must go, even with regret, to provide some liberation. I live with the mixed feelings.

Happy New Year!