(Ir)Reverend Ramblings

Tonight the words of Scotsman Robbie Burns, “Auld Lang Syne” will be sung in many homes, halls and gathering places. The poem, written in 1788, originally a song sung on Hogmanay in Scotland has spread around the world as the Scots have emigrated across the globe. The poem lends a wistful air as he considers days gone by and old times. Now, sung on New Year’s Eve the New Year’s Even anthem calls us to remember the past and anticipate the future. It is often sung while revellers hold hands as a token of friendship (Or to hold each other up?!?!?) A lesser known verse begins, “Here’s a hand my trusty friend. Give me a hand of thine.”

Today might seem like just another day but it is a day that hangs as a hinge and on it 2015 ends and 2016 begins. In the last couple of days several people have said, “Can you believe it is 2016 already?” Those readers who remember the excitement, and the trauma, when we began the new millennium in 2000 are scratching their heads wondering how the last 16 years have passed so quickly. In truth, each day begins with the opportunity to serve, to share, to explore, to celebrate, to be thankful. What we chose to do with each day is, in many ways, our choice.

I hope this ‘hinge day’ is one on which you can look back to the year passed with a measure of gratitude and that you can look to 2016 with an anticipation of good things.

May your New Year be blessed with good tidings. Tonight, join hands with those you are with and remember the moment because the moments pass so quickly.

As you look to 2016 may it be a year when the Spirit will guide you, prod you, cajole you, hold you, comfort you, inspire you, and transform you.

Happy New Year.

A friend included this quote in her Christmas letter. “Winston Churchill said that, ‘There is no doubt that it is around the family and the home that all the greatest virtues, the most dominating virtues of human society, are created, strengthened and maintained.”

While family is not always easy it is the best known way to shape and form children and is the bedrock of our society. Christmas and the festive season is often a time when families make an effort to get together and to be happy together. The stress of the season can sometime make that difficult and for divided families the pressure to get along and to keep everyone happy can be particularly challenging.

I am fortunate in having a family that, for the most part (!), enjoys being together. We like to sit at table together, we like to sing together, we enjoy one another’s company. At times of family gathering I realize anew how precious this is. I am also mindful that it is my family who has provided me the life lessons and wisdom that has shaped who I am and given me the foundation I have needed to endure times of challenge and difficulty. I often think of my parents, both of whom have been dead for many years, remembering their values and principles and the positive modelling they set down for me.

There is only one story in the Bible, in the Gospel of Luke, of Jesus’ childhood, it tells of him getting lost on a trip to the city of Jerusalem. The story reveals that even in Jesus’ family there could be tension and disagreement but also that love undergirded the family structure.

As these Christmas days unfold (BTW by my figuring today is the 6th day of Christmas so I hope your true love gave you some geese-a-laying or their equivalent!) I hope that your family has found a way to navigate the sometime choppy waters of togetherness and found a way to strengthen one another.

Are you ready? Ready for Christmas? These are the questions I am greeted with on a regular basis. Of course I am not ready and yes I am ready! I have not done all the things I thought I might do … some garlands and decorations remain slumped in the basement. Recipes poured over remain unmade. Notes to be written remain sentence fragments in my mind. But my soul is ready, ready for the message of the angels and the birthing of Emmanuel.

A friend sent a text despairing that she was nowhere near ready for Christmas. A family medical crisis has put her behind any scheduling as she tended to the needs of an aging parent and so gifts need yet to be purchased and cards remain unwritten. But as I thought how best to reply to her message I was caught up with the notion that in fact she is as ready as the Christmas family in that first story. Not ready. Not ready for an arduous journey. Not ready for the delivery of an unplanned pregnancy. Not ready for unexpected guests. Not ready to have to pack up and flee as refugees. They were just not ready and yet God was birthed through them regardless of their readiness.

We put so much pressure on ourselves at this time of year to be ready for one day. The culture and media and hype build up such a frenzy and yet the morning will dawn just like any other day on the calendar and families will gather and squabbles will happen and forgiveness will arise and lovers will kiss and make-up and babies will be born and old people will die and the sun will set at the end of the day and Emmanuel will be the gift whether we are ready or not.

These last few days of Advent coincide with the longest nights, leading up to the winter solstice. Despite the fact that the moon is high and bright, building to a full moon on Christmas Eve, the night that closes in on us before dinner and lingers until breakfast means that darkness is our companion for the majority of our 24 hours.

When we were in Ireland we visited Newgrange, in County Meath. It was built during the Neolithic period around 3000 BC to 2500 BC making it older than Stonehenge and the Egyption periods. As a mound of earth its significance was lost for awhile. It was rediscovered in the late 17th century, when people, looking for stones to use for building, came across what they thought was a cave. Now, restored to its former glory, the Newgrange mound is a solid structure that is 250 feet across and 40 feet high, covering an acre of land. It is astounding to think that the builders were able to erect such a structure long before there was equipment to move and stack the enromous rocks let alone no computers to plan the design.

It was a brilliant sunny day when we visited. We lined up at the entrance that is a small opening into a narrow passage way. We crept our way through the passage to where it opens into a chamber. After some explanation, the guide then turned out the artificial light and we were plunged into complete and absolute darkness. She then turned on a small light to replicate the small beam of light that that comes in through a small opening in the rocks at dawn on the mornings surrounding the soltice. The narrow beam of light enters the 62-foot long passage and lights the floor. It moves along the ground, from the window box until it lights the rear chamber. This Neolithic light show lasts 17 minutes.

Scholars are not certain why such an impressive structure would have been built to catch that first beam of light but it is astounding in its beauty and awesome mystery. Newgrange is a place where many are gathering tonight to herald the beam of light as it pierces the darkenss within.

Imagery of light and darkness are featured in many belief structures. As Christians we speak of Jesus as the light of the world. We light the Advent candles to pierce the darkness as we speak the words of Hope, Peace, Joy and Love the words of Advent. As the Gospel of John puts it, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not put it out.”

The first Sunday of Advent was November 29th. That was ten days ago. For ten days I have had a bubble inside me. That is how Advent always feels to me. Something light, open, exciting. I love Advent. It is a season of anticipation and preparation. It is a time of expectation and waiting, waiting, waiting!

I have been doing all the things one does at this time of year. I have attended my first seasonal concert, went to a Carol service, started making lists (and more lists), made plans for family gatherings and been thinking of starting the gift wrapping. It is a great time of year in my experience and I savour every day in the countdown to Christmas.

I know that this season can be hard for some folks. Separated families struggle and juggle to make plans work. Those grieving the loss of a loved one feel the loss acutely. Those who struggle with depression or anxiety find the jolly attitude of some to be overwhelming and challenging.

The best I can do is pray for folks for whom this time of year is hard and beyond hard. And for me, I will continue to enjoy that bubble that keeps me bouyant.

A couple of weeks ago a small group of folks within our congregation excitedly announced we had been given the green light at Executive Council to begin the process to sponsor a refugee family from Syria. We were pumped with the anticipation of being host to a new family to Canada. We were also somewhat anxious in wondering if we could ‘get it all together’ in terms of … a house and furnishings, building a welcoming network around them, dealing with any post-trauma they might bring with them, sorting out language and cultural challenges etc. But we were committed and felt it the absolute right, and indeed, only thing we could do as a Christian community. Then the bombing happened in Paris.

The killings in Paris have left me conflicted. Oh, not about our sponsorship of a family. I am resolute on that, we must do this. My conflicted feelings arise when I try to figure out how to respond to those who say we should not do this. To people who say things like, “refugees are potential terrorists”, that “they should stay where they are” … and on and on. You have heard the rhetoric on both sides. I decided this morning to not look at Facebook because I cannot deal with the nasty tone of some posts even though they are overwhelming outnumbered by positive ones; this reflective of my stable of friends on Facebook.

I have never been good a rebutting angry and negative commentary. I feel helpless in the face of what to me feels like xenophobia because it is often offered with what appears to me a closed mind. But even in saying that I am being judgemental of the other. That is where I get conflicted. How do we enter into open and healthy conversation when people on each side of the conversation start from a place of fear and, often, anger?

I am confident that the refugees coming to Canada will have been repeatedly screened. I am equally certain that we must act to help these poor families that are on the run from the very terrorists we fear. I am aware of the danger that terrorism brings with it. I do not believe that building stronger and higher walls to keep refugees out is the answer to anything.

Isaiah 54:2 says, “Make your tents larger. Spread out the tent pegs.” I am certain we will only benefit from having Syrians in our neighbourhood. I also remember that one of the key stories of this time of year is that Mary and Joseph had no where to rest when she was about to give birth and had to make do with a animal stable and then, when Jesus was just a boy, they had to flee to Egypt as refugees. We are re-living the Christmas story in 2015 and I prefer to be the inn keeper who throws open the door.

How do you respond to people who feel differently then you? Do you feel any conflict about Canada’s (and our congregation’s) response to the refugee crisis?

One month ago my beloved underwent surgery for a total knee replacement. This surgery happens so regularly nowadays that there are many, many people who have been down this road. His actual surgery went well but he had a couple of minor post-surgical complications which everyone assured us was ‘normal’ with ‘elderly’ patients. Just the same, complications are not normal when it is you and who ever thought that he was ‘elderly’? Not him and not me!

As with any experience we have learned a lot. For me, I have gained a whole new appreciation for care-givers. What a difficult road … dealing with the uncertainty, the lack of sleep, the worry, trying to be cheerful when really you are scared, the grief that comes with unavoidable change, etc. The stress for me was only over the course of a month. For some, this unsettling state, becomes a way of life and is never-ending.

Being a care-giver is humbling and it is hard work! It can also be a spiritually deepening experience. Over the last month, often when struggling with one situation or another, I had, rolling around in my mind, the words from the hymn, “kneels at the feet of his friends”. Indeed it became my theme song. Caregiving puts you on your knees in more ways than one.

I am very fortunate. We have family close by who were able to pitch in and help and we have lots of support in the community. Still, when it comes right down to it, often the one left to do the bulk of the work is the closest loved-one. I am blessed with a work situation that is somewhat flexible and team-mates and friends who could cover for me, sometimes with very short notice. I realize, yet again, how truly blessed I am. I was also left wondering how some people manage if they are in situations where they do not have an accommodating employer or family members who can help out.

It has been an interesting road and I will never consider the life of the care-giver in the same way. They are people who deserve enormous respect and support. God bless them.

Last night, as I was driving home, I heard the news of three sisters killed in a farm accident in Alberta. They were playing in a truck as it was being filled with canola. Somehow they were overcome and buried in the grain. Such a tragedy.

I grew up on a farm and I can remember, as a girl, playing in the granary as it was being filled with the new crop. It is a natural ‘kid kind of thing’ to do. According to the news reports, the farm family had four children, the three girls and a younger boy. I can only imagine the grief that has overwhelmed them, their extended family and the community at large. I know that farm families across the land will be holding their kids extra tight today.

It has left me reflecting on grief, sudden-grief, and the toll it takes. I can only imagine the profound and devastating sorrow that lives with that family now. No one prepares for such a loss. Even when one has time to prepare for the death of a loved one, due to a long and lingering illness, the grief can be overwhelming. We are told that our bodies go into a state of shock to physically protect us and give us time to adjust to the news and the emotional turmoil that results.

According to the news, the family in Alberta is surrounded by a caring community who have all rallied to help in any way they can. Nonetheless, nothing will take away their devastating loss and no amount of neighbourly care will erase the grief. They will just have to see it through as painful as it is.

When I think of grief and the pain it causes I often re-read a quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “Nothing can make up for the absence of someone whom we love, and it would be wrong to try to find a substitute; we must simply hold out and see it through. That sounds very hard at first, but at the same time it is a great consolation, for the gap, as long as it remains unfilled, preserves the bond between us. It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap; he does not fill it, but on the contrary, he keeps it empty and so helps us to keep alive our former communion with each other, even at the cost of pain.”

May that Alberta family, and all families facing grief today, know God’s presence in some measure.

Hi folks! When touring with a group of 40 things do not always go as planned. I had expected to write a blog, if not daily at least often, during my time in Ireland. The one I wrote did not get posted in its entirety and the fussiness of the internet connection in that hotel prevented me from doing anything about it.
Here we are nearing the end of our tour. It is hard to believe but in three more days we will be on our way home.
I keep asking people what will be their lasting memory of our time here on the Emerald Isle. Like most others I cannot come up with just one instead I list several that will stay with me for a long time, if not forever.
After we visited the ruins of Glendalough we went to the local village church. It is called St. Kevin’s after the 6th century saint who founded the monastery at Glendalough. A local member of the parish, Rose, met us at the church and spontaneously told us a little about her church and her congregation. It was so touching to see the love she had for her village and her church. After our service she blessed each one of us as we left to get back on the bus. It was lovely.
A few days ago we visited the ruins on Devonish Island near Enniskillen. The high tower stands there still as a reminder of the faithful monks who lived there in the 6th century. It gave new meaning to the words “Thou my high tower” from the hymn, Be Tou My Vision.
The majestic sweep of the sea shores as we have travelled around the island are jaw-dropping beautiful and the endless fields of green pasture, dotted with sheep and cattle, are truly stunning.
Finally, I will always remeber the high crosses which stand tall in every graveyard – a constant reminder of the celtic Christian history of this country. They blend together the rich celtic tradition of the love of nature and the message of the Gospel of Jesus.
So there you have just a few word pictures for you to get a feel for the wonderful experience of visitng this land where faith and history continue to twine together.

We are just over half way through our tour of the Emerald Isle. I prefer to call it a pilgrimage as I am encouraging our travellers to think of this as a time to know God’s call. But sometimes it is hard to hear the spirit in the midst of tourist shops and hopping on and off a bus!

I apologize for not getting a blog entry posted before now but I have had a couple of challenges. First, I forgot my password to get into my blog site – never a good thing! Second, I have just not had time or energy at the end of the day after filling each hour with sights and experiences. I have, on most days, talked about writing a blog but my intentions have not been lived out.

Let me catch you up a bit. There are 40 in our group. We started in Dublin and after two days there began our circuit around the island. We have been to Waterford – yes, where they make that beautiful crystal. We stopped for two nights in Galway – this included dinner in a castle. Tonight we are in Sligo – only for one night, and then tomorrow we are off to Derry.