(Ir)Reverend Ramblings

I heard the other day that people are reporting Covid dreams. Dreams where they feel overwhelmed, or dreams from which they can’t escape. Whoever could have thought a year ago the word Covid would be such a regular part of our vocabulary or that we would be having Covid dreams? I say we are having them because I had one!

On Sunday night, or rather early Monday morning, I had a dream that caused me to wake from sleep in a state! It was maybe more of a nightmare than a dream. And, I am reluctant to put it in print but … it involved Donald Trump. So, yes, a nightmare. I, and some other very frightened people, were locked in a room with him and he was threatening to kill us because we wouldn’t vote for him. He was blustering and menacing and intimidating. I woke up frightened and anxious and it took me a while to settle back into sleep.

Dreams often reveal to us, in those misty, semi-awake moments between being asleep and being awake, what our sub-consciousness is wrestling with. The images that come forward often speak to what is troubling us or what is feeling heavy on our mind. Early on I learned that dreams, no matter how crazy they are, can open up to us what it is our spirit is grappling with.

Dreams are big in the Bible and most often the dreamer is having a Godly, spiritual encounter. Jacob wrestled with God. Joseph had many dreams after his brothers sold him into slavery in Egypt. The Christmas story is filled with dreamers – Joseph the father of Jesus, and the magi all had dreams to help them understand their role in God’s unfolding drama.

Dreams always more about the dreamer than the actual dream. I am not sure what my dream revealed to me of God but I do know I was rescued before I was hurt and I was believed when telling my rescuers of my fear. And maybe that is what my dream was really about – my fear in these Covid days and my worry that they will never end and I will be locked in this half-life forever. I know that is not true but the sub-conscious worries about its own worries.

As a result of my nightmare I have resolved to try and focus on the positive not what I am missing. I have decided to seek out the ways of escape not dwell on the ways I am locked in. I believe God comes near to us in our dreams, opening us up to new possibilities, and reminding us we are not alone. For that I am grateful.

Yesterday was Jimmy Carter’s birthday. He turned 96 making him the longest-lived President of the United States. He was President from 1977 to 1981. Around that time he was often referred to as a ‘peanut farmer from Georgia’. But, I think, in the long run, he is best known for his humility and his commitment to his faith. It is not uncommon to see photos of him still actively working for his favourite charity, Habitat for Humanity.

This week I, like many of you, have been bombarded with news clips of the American Presidential debate that happened on Tuesday night between Donald Trump and Joe Biden. Parts of the dialogue are soul destroying. It is hard to wrap my head around the concept that these two represent the best America has to offer when it comes to leadership. That reflection has led me to try and get some perspective on power and leadership. It is one thing to gain power through election. It is something completely different to be a leader.

Jimmy Carter has written many books. Some of this titles: “Palestine Peace Not Apartheid” “Our Endangered Values”, “Faith A Journey for All”, “Living Faith”, “A Call to Action: Women, Religion, Violence and Power”, “Keeping Faith: Memoirs of a President”, “The Virtues of Aging”, “Everything to Gain: Making the Most of the Rest of Your Life”, “Talking Peace: A Vision For the Next Generation”, “A Government as Good as It’s People”. Compare those titles with the ones of books written by Donald Trump: “The Art of the Deal”, The Art of the Comeback” “Surviving at the Top”, “Time to Get Tough”, “How to Get Rich”, “Think Big and Kick Ass”. (Yes, he really did write a book titled, “Think Big and Kick Ass”). Now, I undeniably admit a bias in favour of someone who writes from a Christian and faith perspective. But anyone can see by scanning these titles that there exists between these two men an ocean of difference in their values and priorities. That brings me again to perspective on leadership versus power.

It is my view that a leader thinks beyond themselves and does whatever they can do to empower others to work beyond their own wellbeing to the wellbeing of the broader community. That shows leadership! To work, not for personal gain alone, but to work towards generosity and support for those beyond ourselves.

A leader points away from themselves towards others. A person might have power but how they use that power is what makes them a leader. Some of the best leaders I have known have given the attention to others and deflected it from themselves. A leader lets other people have the time in the spotlight. A leader helps others shine. People in power can be great leaders. Sadly, sometimes they are only there for the power, the prestige and the profit.

Jimmy Carter’s time as “official” leader lasted one term. But his leadership as a global citizen has lasted for decades. He is a leader, not without faults of course, but a leader in his thought and in his action. It just so happens that Jimmy Carter models his life after another great leader, one who stood up for human rights, one who elevated the people on the margins, one who went to his death defending what he believed in. One who, for 2000 years, has been heralded as one of the greatest leaders the earth has known. Even without political power he shifted the earth. Of course that leader was a humble peasant from Palestine. Power and leadership comes in different ways. Let’s be sure we keep our eyes open for leaders and follow them.

Did you feel it? Did you feel the earth tilt a bit today? This is the day of the Fall Equinox – the first day of the autumn season. Today the sun was exactly above the equator as it made its move from the Northern to the Southern Hemisphere. Today, the North Pole began to tilt away from the sun and day and night were approximately the same length. For the next months the days will be shorter and the nights will stretch out. And as the earth tilted, the season shifted and I am left wondering why, now that the frost is about to come and wilt my dahlias and destroy my snapdragons why now … finally … have my geraniums reached their peak? All summer I have been deadheading and coaxing and fertilizing and after weeks of reluctance, finally this week they have come into their own. It is as if they are trying to say, “Ha, we are giving you a burst of beauty just before frost so you will be sure to plant us again next year.”

I think geraniums are a lesson for life. We spend a lot of time getting ready in order to do some blooming. The autumn equinox is a good reminder of the balance between light and dark, north and south, preparation and result.

Today is a great day to get perspective on things and to shift in our own balance as to what is important and what can rest. As we celebrate the bounty of the summer’s produce this is a great time to write a Gratitude List. (I am grateful for my geraniums, by the way.) This time of year is a great time to honour the beauty of the earth – the sights (think orange leaves and bronze hillsides), the sounds (thing crickets and wild geese), the smells (think turned soil and wood smoke), the tastes (crisp apples and baked squash), the feel (shrugging into a fleece, crunching leaves underfoot). It is a day, a season to set aside Covid wariness and exult in the beauty that abounds all around us.

Autumn Blessings to you!

At the beginning of the summer I treated myself with the purchase of a beautiful fire pit. It is cut iron with an image of a bear and a cub toasting marshmallows! It is fun and serviceable. I have loved lighting up a fire and sitting there as the day fades away. There is something about staring into a campfire that grounds me. It give times to just sit and reflect.

Fire, in and of itself, is pretty magical. Strike a match – there is fire. Warming, brightening, dangerous fire. Yes, dangerous, we need only listen to the news reports these days to hear of the destruction being wrought by the wild fires on the west coast of the US. Forests, wood lots, pasture land, towns, homes and human life are being destroyed by fire as its sweeps its way across the landscape. But when it is contained and nurtured in my fire pit it is a spiritual time of reflection and meditation.

Last month as I sat by the fire, there was a full moon rising overhead. Can there be anything more grounding than a campfire and anything more expansive than a full moon overhead? I felt the power of both. I felt called in and opened up at the same time. It was an incredible time of prayer and the memory lingers like the smell of wood smoke.

Simple things can move us to God. Simple things like striking a match or watching the moon can take our imagination and our spirit to places of wonder and reflection.

After a few days of cool wet weather it is a beautiful afternoon. I think it will be a good night for a campfire. Time for some praying and some dreaming.

How do you start your day? What is the first thing that happens as you emerge from slumber? Is it with an alarm or do you wake up instinctively? Do you need coffee or tea in the morning? Is your house quiet or noisy? Do you like having the radio or tv on or do you like the silence of the morning? Do you look outside to check the weather? Do you take a walk around the yard, checking out the garden?

I have been thinking about ritual, daily rituals that we embrace almost unconsciously, those things we do without thinking but, when they are disrupted, our day feels off kilter.

I first think of ritual as something that we do repeatedly that brings meaning or order. The dictionary definition is “A religious or solemn ceremony consisting of a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order.” Communion is a ritual. Baptism is a ritual. But I also think that life is filled with many little rituals, habitual activities, that bring meaning. For me – it is a ritual to open my blinds first thing in the morning to see my garden. It brings me pleasure, anytime of the year, to see what is happening outside. My morning coffee is a ritual! I like the routine of filling the coffee maker, spooning in the coffee grounds, breathing in the aroma as it brews, and then that first flavourful sip. Ahhhh!

So I am pondering … what shifts routine to ritual? What happens to elevate what we ‘normally’ do to something that makes it ‘holy’? ‘Sacred’? I think it is something that makes us pause, something that stirs gratitude. An activity or experience that takes us to a place of sacredness. Something that moves us to prayer. A cup of coffee could be ‘just a cup of coffee’ or it could be a moment of gratitude for the grower who tended the plants, the picker who selected the beans, the trucker who moved the product, the grocer who lined the bags on the shelf, the technician who made sure the water was safe, the plumber who installed the faucet, the sensory gift that lets me smell and taste and see. All of these things combine to make that first sip a moment of gratitude, a moment of holy wonder for the goodness of creation. A moment that moves me to prayer for the goodness of life and all its riches.

How about you? Do you have a habit that is really more like a ritual – something that moves you to holy space?

The five Sundays after Labour Day are designated as Creation Time. This is a season we set aside to honour and appreciate creation. This seems like a bit of a no-brainer! The stewardship and care of creation is strong throughout the Biblical narrative but the reality is that Christianity has had, and continues to have, a checkered history in this regard. Many have interpreted the verse from Genesis, “To have dominion over” as a call to exploitation rather than to one of care. While there is evidence all around us some Christian groups will deny, or at least give little attention to the Climate crisis that is so clearly in evidence in the environment.

Our commitment to care for creation, despite evidence to the contrary, is deeply ingrained in Christian writing. Centuries ago, Basil the Great (who lived from 329 to 379) wrote, “I want creation to penetrate you with so much admiration that wherever you go, the least plant may bring you the clear remembrance of the Creator …One blade of grass or one speck of dust is enough to occupy your entire mind in beholding the art with which it has been made.” (Hexaemeron, Homily V, ‘The Germination of the Earth’.)

With the impact of Covid19 many front burner issues – like the Climate Crisis – have been pushed to the back burner. But that does not mean it has gone away. While we celebrate the small shifts we have noticed with less human activity we also see the continuance of disregard as disposable face masks litter the streets and float in the lakes and rivers. We need to keep vigilant in the care for creation and remember that every element of creation, every tree, rock, leaf, human, bears the imprint of God.

When we look and listen, when we open our hearts to creation we are looking at listening to and opening ourselves to God.

Here is my challenge to you for today. Go outside. Go for a hike or a walk in nature, sit in a lawn chair. Find some token of nature – a leaf, a flower and keep it on your table as a connection to the earth. Every time you notice it say a prayer of gratitude.

“What’cha doin?” “Thinking.” “Thinking ’bout what?” “Just thinking.” “Well, you have to be thinking about something.” “Not really – just waiting for thoughts to come.” “About what?” “Thoughts about my sermon.” “What’s it on?” “Don’t know yet – that’s why I am thinking.”

This could be a weekly conversation if anyone were to walk by at a certain time as I sit and stare at the computer screen. I always have some kind of idea because I know the scripture and from it I pick the hymns and have a certain kind of direction in mind. I usually have a title but until I am in the midst of writing I am not completely sure which direction it will go.

We have already recorded the video service so that sermon is done and no I am working on our ‘in-house’ service, as I call it. Last Sunday we had our first service back in the sanctuary. There were only 23 in the congregation but it was still good to be back together. As one person said, as she walked through the door, “It’s good to be home.” And it felt that way – back in our place, back together. But it is different preaching to 23 than it is to 100 and it different again than it is preaching to a camera! So I am sitting here, in my office , working on what I need to say, want to say on Sunday morning. Anyone walking by my office window would think I am just sitting and daydreaming. And, I guess in some ways, I am.

I generally begin my sermon by pulling out the kernel of truth I want from the passage for this week. Any scripture reading is a prism with many many sides and one could go off in several directions. In fact. I have sometimes wondered what it would be like to preach on the same passage fro several weeks in a row picking out a different detail each week.

Having decided on the direction of the sermon I visualize who will be in the pews. I never know exactly, of course, but I usually have a bit of an idea and I wonder to myself what they need to hear this week. I might scroll around online and read other people’s sermons on the passage and see how they have taken the words and worked with them. Then I start to write. Sometimes it flows. Sometimes it is nothing but struggle. Sometimes I have to go for a walk, or pull some weeds, or stare into space, to give my brain time to ruminate. One thing for certain, there is a time frame and come Sunday morning it had better be done!

But what I want you to know… if you see me staring off into space and you are tempted to ask me, “What’cha doin’?” chances are I am working on my sermon!

I officiated at a graveside service last week. There were just seven of us. Five from the family, the Funeral Director, and me. The deceased died a few months ago and it was only now we could gather to inter his ashes into the family grave site.

It was a steamy hot day. It was one of those humid August days. A day when the sun beams down and the air is heavy and damp with moisture. My mother would describe it as “close”. Clouds rolled overhead and it felt that a cloudburst could come any minutes and it would have been welcome just to dispel the humidity.

The deceased was 88 when he died and his life had many interesting facets … an immigrant to Canada, an active career, interesting hobbies, a loving family. What did we talk about as we stood there at his graveside? The weather. Yep, that’s right, the weather. Of course, we laugh that as Canadians we always talk about the weather. People who come to our country think this is odd until they realize that, unlike countries where the weather is constant and unchanging, the changing weather of Canada is a valid topic for conversation. Too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, too windy, too snowy, there is always something to talk about. But it did strike me, as we stood there, with so much we could have talked about, that instead, we talked about the weather, “It’s a hot one.” “Looks like rain.” “The weatherman didn’t say rain.” “It’s been a hot summer.” “They say it will be a hard winter.” and on an on.

The whole conversation got me to thinking, why do we do this? What is it that makes us spend so much time talking about the weather? I have concluded it is because it is safe, it is obvious, it is not personal, it does not take emotional involvement and we can walk away and the conversation has provided some interaction with another without being too revealing or intense. It is also obvious – the weather is around us.

Since that day in the cemetery I have been considering how conversations engage us, or don’t! How much do we reveal about ourselves when we talk to others? What level does friendship need to reach in order for us to truly open up to another as to what is going on in our minds? Our hearts? Our souls? For myself I need to have a pretty high comfort level around confidentiality. I don’t like to think of people talking about me to other people even though I know that happens all the time – it’s human nature. I also have to feel a comfort level that we are sympatico. I need to feel that the other understands me before I reveal too much of my inner thoughts. And, I need to feel safe – a feeling that the other person will hold whatever I say with integrity and kindness and that there will be no judgement.

All that got me thinking about the personality of Jesus. So many of the stories about him tell of his immediate connection with others, even strangers he met along the way, who immediately felt connected to him and felt comfortable to reveal details about themselves that gave him insight into who they were at a soul level. I like to think about Jesus being so approachable, so open, that I could have talked to him about important things and not just about the weather! But, as I thought about it, I realized that there are people in my life that let me be that honestly open about the fears and doubts, as well as the joy and gratitude that fills my life. I am grateful to those people. Those people who are the Jesus people in my life. Because, there is so much more to talk about than the weather!

In my last blog I mentioned that I was going to meet with my Spiritual Director. In the course of our conversation I said, almost flippantly, “Well, I guess that is the gift of Covid.” Being the good and insightful listener that she is, she circled back to that comment and said it back to me with the question – “What have been that gifts that have come to you during Covid?” Harrumph – I hate it when my own words come back to challenge me.

When I said those words I was being a bit ironic. I said that it was “a gift” that I now had time to confront my grief and sort through my emotions regarding loss and the death of my husband. It was a “gift” that I had time and space to go deeper into that pit of sorrow as all my busy work (and avoidance tactics) was put on hold, the running to visits and shows and activities was stopped and I had nothing to do but plunge into the feelings I have held at bay for so long. It is hard soul work but healing in the long run.

Ever since that conversation I have been thinking about that verbal challenge. What have been some gifts from this time period we have come to call Covid? In a conversation yesterday a friend mentioned the loss of the illusion that we know everything. This was in reference to the shifting science around the virus. What we heard about the virus in the beginning has shifted and changed. Don’t wear masks, Do wear masks. The virus will stay on paper and objects for 72 hours. It may or may not linger on products that long. The science is changing and even the experts have had to rethink proper protocols. We have lived for so long with the illusion that we know things and that science and research can give us answers to everything. A gift of Covid is the reminder that we are human with limited understanding and we are not in perfect control of everything.

There have been many disappointments as people miss large family events and travel plans were cancelled. There have been genuine hardships as businesses falter and people lose needed income. But there has also been quality time with those we love. We have learned creative ways to communicate and some of us have conquered the steep learning of technology! And of course the less hectic pace of doing has been replaced by the valued sense of being.

Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” A gift from Covid has been the enforcement to be still and in the stillness we can, if we let ourselves, be open to the deep reality of God within. What a gift.

Do you remember that song from the 70’s? “Feelings, nothing more than feelings” the singer intoned. It was covered by a number of artists. It is a song about lost love. It is maudlin and sentimental and not particularly good musically. And it is an ear worm, so if you now have that melody rolling around in your head. I am sorry!

At the risk of beating the same old drum in these blogs I find myself forced to write again about feelings. There is so much to hold in our emotional reservoir. Yesterday there was a horrendous explosion in Beirut. A friend, who lives in Eastern Ontario but is Lebanese, immediately sent out requests for prayers for family and friends in that city. Of course the feeling of fear immediately kicked in. Was it some kind of terrorist attack? Was it the beginning of global threat? According to news reports today it was an explosion of a stockpile of ammonium nitrate. The impact of the explosion was vast resulting in many deaths and injuries. The feelings it triggered were immediate, an ‘oh no – now what’ kind of feeling.

I find myself mesmerized by the antics of the political leader to the south. I prefer to not speak his name. And while I cannot believe what is happening there I also cannot stop watching the new reports and interviews as the political leadership unravels. I feel a sense of betrayal of the political system and a feeling of paralysis in the face of a democracy in decline.

Mostly though, I am stuck in my own feeling loop. Covid is getting me down. It is not fear of the virus. It is the wariness, the judgement, the being on guard, the watching who wears a mask and who doesn’t, it is making sure no one touches me and I touch no one. All these things have stealthily crept into my psyche so deeply that when I see people shake hands in a television show I find myself thinking, “They shouldn’t be doing that. They might be transmitting the virus.” And I have become so thin-skinned and grumpy. I often have to stop myself from a retort or a comment by reminding myself that is not ‘pre-Covid me’ that is ‘pandemic me’. I don’t like that ‘me’ I have become.

Oh and anxiety – let me say a word about anxiety – not just mine but others as well. How to measure and judge anxiety? When to ramp up because someone else is anxious about something and maybe I am being inattentive? Or, when to walk away because I do not want to catch anxiety fearing it as infectious as the virus? That waffling is enough to produce it’s own anxiety so then I get depressed, well, not clinically depressed but sad and lonely and lethargic because, well, just because of stupid Covid.

I invite people over but it is always with that caveat – “if you feel safe”. Plans for the fall and winter are all prefaced with, “Depending on what happens.” Everything feels tentative and lacking in direction and focus.

I am a melange of feelings. I am not sure that is a good use of the word melange but I like it and according to the dictionary it’s definition is “mixture” and that is what I am feeling – a dizzying, chaotic, depressing mixture of feelings!

What to do with all of this? Well, first step is to talk to some others and realize I am not alone. Second step, it seems, is to write a blog about it to see if any of my readers agree or share the same ‘melange’! Third step is an appointment, set for tomorrow, with my Spiritual Director to put some theological and spiritual framework around it. Fourth is to remember that Jesus, who is our human experience of God, had lots of feelings too. It is okay to have feelings. Even when I don’t like them.