dancing in the rain

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” 

Yesterday was my sixth wedding anniversary.

Jonathan and I were married at Grace Church in Providence, and held our reception at ECC in the Pavillion.  We made a weekend out of it, because what could be more fun than a weekend with all of our friends and loved ones at camp?  Besides, May is just about the most beautiful time of year at the Episcopal Conference Center.  Just look:

At least, that’s what it looks like in May sometimes. 

Sometimes it’s overcast and dark gray.  Sometimes it rains and the temperature drops so drastically that it still feels like February, and as fast as you’ve pulled on your t-shirts and flip flops you are running for your heavy sweatshirts and thick socks.

My wedding day was more like the latter.  I had hoped it would be a weekend like the picture above – picturesque and green and lovely.  But no.  May 19th, 2007 (and really the whole weekend) provided temperatures just above freezing and a constant, spitting rain that occasionally increased to a steady pour.  My poor friends from Virginia had to leave the airport after their arrival and go straight to Target to buy warmer clothes and Joyce almost sold out of camp sweatshirts that weekend.  Lance had to go to Home Depot the morning of the wedding to buy a thick plastic to wrap around the Pavilion so that the heat from the grill would warm up the space, making it tolerable for the 200 plus people who had agreed to spend the day celebrating with us.

It was not ideal.

Last year the weekend of our Open House at ECC was pure perfection.  In fact, that’s when the above picture was taken.  When I walked outside on the morning of May 19th I was struck dumb by the sheer beauty of the property, the bright shining sun, and the warm gentle air. In my head I knew it was my anniversary, but psychologically I couldn’t make the jump.  It was just too beautiful.

Yesterday also started out that way – bright sun and clear skies – and I found myself thinking, once again, “well it didn’t look like this on my May 19th!” That said, I was grateful for the great weather.  Once again, I was expecting over 200 guests at ECC that afternoon, and sunshine makes for better tours of the property.

And then suddenly the memory of my wedding day started to be much more clear.

As if on cue, right at 3pm when our gates were open and cars started to trickle in, so did the rain.  And all of my counselors, sporting their short sleeved staff shirts started shivering and looking at me hopefully asking if it was ok if they pulled on a sweatshirt. Umbrellas popped open as groups of folks huddled together for camp tours, and most of our guests opted for arts and crafts under the Pavilion instead of games on the field.  Again, there weren’t enough sweatshirts in the store to keep our folks warm.  We ran out almost immediately. (Side note: more have been ordered and should arrive right as the temperatures are consistently above 80 degrees.)

I admit to being a little disappointed.  I think I had more stock in nice weather yesterday than I did on my wedding day.  I love showing off our beautiful camp on a sunny day.  But the sun was long gone, the rain had settled in, and the temperature was dropping.  I ran some umbrellas out to the two young men who were on parking lot duty, and instructed them to usher our guests to the tents with the golf umbrellas, one blue and white and the other rainbow colored.  Then I walked away to tend to other things.

When I came back to the parking lot area a little while later I checked in with my team under the welcome tent.  They were looking into the parking lot and laughing.  ”Look,” they said to me, pointing, “Caleb and Justin have been out there dancing and swinging the umbrellas.”

Sure enough, there were my 17 year old Jr. Counselors, spinning in circles in the parking lot, kicking up their heels, turning towards the welcome tent and smiling widely.  When a car would pull in they would wave their umbrellas and leap over puddles with finesse to reach the people in the car.  They were ridiculous.   And they were hysterical.

I turned to look towards the road and saw that yet another set of my counselors – the ones stationed at the entrance to wave cars into the property – were also being terrific sports about their assignments.  They shared their umbrella, but were also spinning and jumping and dancing, enthusiastically waving and welcoming the cars that drove by, whether or not the cars were pulling into our driveway.

I couldn’t help but laugh, and my shoulders loosened some.  Leave it to my staff to remind me that our Open House wasn’t about how pretty the property looked, and whether or not the sun was shining.  Our Open House is about showing people our spirit, our joy, and our community at ECC.  They showed that so clearly – all the staff did – as they danced in the parking lot, laughed through the tours, and played sports in the field while the rain soaked their shirts.

I found myself remembering my wedding day again.  Despite the weather, it was one of the most fabulous parties I have ever attended.  We pulled on our sweatshirts and sneakers and we danced, and danced, and danced.  I’ve had countless friends reminisce about what a great time we had, remembering the joy and laughter and fun we shared dancing in the plastic-covered pavilion under the cold, dark skies.  I have to credit ECC with some of the fun.  I think that same joyful spirit was there even though it wasn’t a camp event.  And I think Jonathan and I – both products of ECC ourselves – had learned over and over again how to shrug off bad weather and party on.

We had a wonderful Open House yesterday.  New friends and old joined us for tours, games, a Pentecost Eucharist, and a cook out.  I can think of no better way to have spent my anniversary than back at the place I love so dearly, surrounded by a joyful community that knows how to dance in the rain.

May 19th, 2013:

May 19th, 2007:

church and caritas

I confess to being surprised just now when I realized I haven’t written a blog post since March 2nd.  Two months?? Wow time flies when you are having fun.  Or working your tail off. Or both.

One of the things I’ve been working on lately is our recent Happening weekend.  Dozens of youth from around the Diocese gathered at ECC for a youth retreat that was full of love, spirit, and the depth and breadth of God’s love.  There were lots of truly wonderful things about the weekend, but for me the most remarkable was a talk that was given by one of the young adults that helped out with the weekend.  I’ve asked her if I could share it with you, and she said yes.

So that’s right – my first blog post in two months isn’t even mine.  I wish it were – I wish I could tell the story of why church matters with the same grace and wisdom this young woman has.  And yet maybe it is more satisfying and more meaningful to hear these words from someone who doesn’t work for the church.  It certainly was more meaningful for me.

I’ve got lots of blog posts in my head these days.  I’ll make an effort to get them out soon.  In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this talk.

As a side note, this is an excellent argument for the importance of a good church website…

Church and Caritas

Church and Caritas have taught me a lot about God’s love.

I was in elementary school volunteering at a food pantry the first time I remember experiencing God’s love. I carted the frozen bread from the back freezer to the front for people to take home. One day, a classmate of mine, Josh, came in. I wasn’t a fan of Josh. He was mean to me. He was mean to my friends. At the end of the day, I remember saying to my dad, “Dad, I know that kid Josh and my friends are not going to believe he has to go to a food pantry.”

My father sat me down and gave me my first memorable lesson about human dignity and about respecting human dignity – especially when people are vulnerable. I tried to fight back with him, “No, dad – you don’t understand, you don’t know Josh. If you knew him, you would know he’s mean, he’s a trouble maker.” My father replied, “Josh is of great worth, he is very valuable and he is loved by God. He doesn’t have to earn or deserve God’s love… by simply being alive, he receives it.”

As a 5^th grader, his words shook me. Josh came to that pantry for years and I gave him bread. I gave him respect.

I continued to be actively engaged in Church. I continued to learn about God’s love in that community. But, during high school, church was just… inconvenient. I played soccer and worked on Saturdays. The last thing I wanted to do was wake up early and give away some of my hard-earned money. My church was full of old people. They smelled bad and pinched my cheeks.

My worst nightmare in church was a baptism. They were so long, babies cried and if someone threw water at me one more time there was going to be a throw down. I kept my composure by counting down the songs left in the service and I braided the colorful tassels on the bookmarks in the Book of Common Prayer.

At that time, I thought that I didn’t need church. I saw God in the ocean, I saw God in the trees and I saw God in people. I didn’t need to reluctantly mosey into a run down building every Sunday to prove my relationship with God.

So, I continued to build my relationship with God away from the church. I became interested in activism, advocacy and fundraising to change in the world. I taught myself about human rights, social justice and movement building.

I was lucky enough to get a job working for an international healthcare organization bringing quality care to the poorest of the poor around the world. I was surrounded by passionate and interesting people.

I thought, “This is where God is. This is my community. This is the community I’ve been searching for since high school”. At that time, a day behind my desk working 9-5 was more meaningful than any Sunday I had ever sat in a pew.

As I continued to get to know my coworkers, I learned that we weren’t as similar as I had imagined. It became apparent that people do their jobs for very different reasons. Maybe they were interested in medical research, supply chains or the pharmaceutical industry. Maybe they were influenced by the World Health Organization, the World Bank or the United Nations.

As for me, I did my work because in 5^th grade I learned that a kid that I did not like deserved to be loved. I realized that there are under-loved, underserved people all around the world that need to be lifted up and shown that they are of great value and of great worth.

Then, I thought, “Where are you going to find a group of like-minded people?” It was then that I realized that I wanted to go back to church.

Thereafter, I Googled churches in my area, compared websites, picked one and walked over one Sunday. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping. I arrived to read a sign, “The Episcopal Church Welcomes You” and I was kindly greeted. The exterior of the church was beautiful and interior was gorgeous and I sat down feeling peaceful, adventurous, calm.

Then, I picked up my bulletin and read the big, bold words at the top: “Holy Baptism”. Just as I did in high school, I looked at my watch and began leafing through the bulletin to see how many songs were left in the service.

However, after this Baptism, I never looked at a church or God’s love the same ever again. This time, I didn’t gloss over the usual hand gestures and the words did not bounce off of my ears. For the first time, I understood what it meant to be part of a church community.

It was at these words that I became emotional:

“Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?”

I saw a room full of family, friends, strangers crowded around a little child… promising, committing, being accountable to raising that life to know God’s love. I thought back to my baptism, although I don’t remember it, I know that a community of strangers made that promise to me. They vowed to create experiences for me so that I would understand the importance of working towards the peace, justice and human dignity of every human being. Furthermore, I can’t help but recognize those words as the golden thread that’s woven through the fabric of who I am today.

If that is the power of church and God’s love, then that’s something I want to be a part of. That’s something I want to learn about every day.

I still see God in the ocean. I see God in the trees and I see God in people. I have a personal relationship with God. But, I now know that I was missing something extraordinary when I was simply doing that alone.

Being part of a community, for me, helps me understand, as a person of faith, how to face this world. Yes, it is beautiful and it is inspiring. But, it is also downright stressful, scary, and abrasive. In 2013, how do I face homophobia? As a Christian, how do I face Islamophobia? What can I do to help those suffering from financial hardship? What are my options when I am faced with financial hardship? How do I bring people together to minimize the stigma of diseases like HIV and AIDs. How do we make sure people do not die senseless deaths from preventable diseases?

What does, or would be, being a part of the church community mean to you?

Being part of a church/the church connects you to support that comes from a much wider community that spreads across the world and thousands of years of human experience.

It connects you to caritas. Caritas is love. Caritas is charity. It is prayer. It is service. It is not earned or deserved. It is a free gift.

And that is what you are in the middle of experiencing right now… at Happening.

Throughout this weekend, you may find God’s love, caritas – a note, a hug, a song, a high five, Eucharist, dancing, etc. I hope that it is a way for you to open your hearts and minds to re-imagine that person you see in the mirror everyday as extraordinary and truly believe that God Loves You and So Do I.

marked as Christ’s own forever

Turns out Winter Camp is totally great.

I figured it would be.  Anytime you get ECC campers and counselors together fun ensues, and Winter Camp was no exception.  Our group wasn’t huge, but where we lacked in number we made up in spirit, and 35 of us enjoyed a truly incredible week together.

Bethany Correia was our Visiting Staff director for the week and she developed a solid program.  The theme for the week was Make Your Mark, and we spent every day talking about how we can have an impact in the world we live in.  Each full day had it’s own daily theme.  Tuesday we talked about baptism with “Marked as Christ’s Own forever”.  Wednesday we talked about the importance of scripture and the words we use with “Mark my Words”.  And Thursday we talked about going out in the world as disciples with “On your mark, get set, GO!”  The young people there were totally engaged during our sessions and I think they left really having absorbed some of the topics we discussed over the course of the week.

The most significant part of the week happened on Tuesday when we talked about baptism, and I’m eager to share the story with you.  But first a little background.  One of the things that I think is SO COOL about our current ministry at ECC is the fact that we have a relationship with Adoption Rhode Island.  Each summer Adoption RI provides scholarships for children and teenagers who live in foster homes or group homes.  I love that they do this because I think everyone deserves to have the camp experience – especially kids who might not have had as many chances to be carefree.  I have also loved getting to know the campers who have been sponsored through Adoption RI.  Some of them have shared their stories with me.  Some have applied to be CIT’s.  Most have asked to come back for a second week either in the same summer or in the next.  And luckily for us, some have come to be a part of our winter programs too.

We had two teenagers at Winter Camp last week who originally came to us through Adoption RI.  One lives in a foster home, and one in a group home.  They both brought so much to the week, and I was thrilled to have them and all of the other young people at Winter Camp.  There was an energy to this camp that was electric.  The day we talked about baptism there were lots of questions from everyone in the group.  As I always do when I talk about baptism, I stressed how important it us for us to deeply know that we belong to God.  I told them about my favorite words from the service and our theme of the day “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”  I assured them that we all belong to God whether or not we’ve been baptized, but we discussed the significance of the rite taking place in Christian community.

It wasn’t long after our session that both of our Adoption RI teens approached me to talk.  One reminded me of the conversation we had had over the summer about the possibility of his being baptized at camp this coming summer.  The other was making a first request: he was turning 18 soon and would be out in the world alone.  He thought he’d feel stronger if he were baptized.

Both requests took my breath away and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them since.  I talk a pretty good game about belonging to God.  I stress the importance of finding our salvation in Christ alone and not in the other humans in our lives.  And I believe what I say – I really do.  But at the end of the day, I rely heavily on the human relationships that I have in my life.  I count on my husband to be my partner and walk with me through life.  I know that my mother and sisters are thinking of me and hoping for the best for me.  Of course my relationship with God is first and foremost in my life, but I also take comfort in knowing that I am part of a family that has my back.

So I can’t imagine - I cannot imagine – what it must be like for the young people in this world who don’t have a supportive family.  I can’t imagine having the deep desire for baptism – wanting to belong to God – because you might not feel like you belong to anyone else.  Just the thought of it transforms the meaning of the words “Marked as Christ’s own forever”. Viewed through this lens those words couldn’t possibly be dismissed as trite or sentimental.  Through this lens those words are life-changing: just as they are meant to be.

In the gospel last Sunday Jesus laments to Jerusalem “Oh I how I have desired to draw your children to me the way a hen draws her brood under her wings, but you would not let me.”  I am struck by Christ’s deep longing to love us.  And after Winter Camp, I am reminded again of our deep longing to be loved.  It never ceases to amaze me that the love we so desire is offered to us all the time but we can’t accept it.

This past week however, I’ve held on to the image of Christ drawing the children under his wing.  And I will hope and pray that all of the young people that are part of our camp community might know – deeply – that they belong to God.  I suspect that my feelings towards baptism have changed forever (and I didn’t know I could appreciate or love baptism any more than I already do!).  I’m truly inspired and humbled by these two campers and their desire to be baptized, and they will be in my prayers constantly.  I ask that you keep them in your prayers too, so that our ECC community might be a family for them – lifting them up and supporting them.  And then we can all – together – cling to the knowledge that we belong to God, sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism, and marked as Christ’s own forever.

 

hold up the walls

This is my favorite photo from the summer.  I love it because it captures this really special moment when my counselors are spontaneously hugging one another and sharing the love.  That light is just pouring through the window, and as hokey as it may sound, I can’t help but see it as God’s grace just beaming down into the barn.  And I love it because my hands are on the barn wall.  When I think about my job as director, this is how I see it: young people experiencing one another in Christian community with God streaming in around them while I make sure the walls stay up.

In my mind, you all are in this picture with me.  You might not see yourself right away, but trust me – you’re there.  If you are currently a camper or counselor, you’re one of the people hugging in the picture.  You are the reason for the ministry right now, and I hope and pray your experience at ECC feels like this big hug.

If you are a former camper or counselor, a parent, a member of the diocese, or a friend of ECC, you are with me in this picture.  Your hands are resting on the side of the barn, and you, like me, are helping to make sure the walls stay up.

As people who care about this special place,  the best thing we can do is create a space where young people can come and experience God, love, and friendship in a way that forever changes them.  Metaphorically speaking, we hold up the walls of the barn, praying for and blessing what happens inside of it.

Here’s the thing: we have been blessed at ECC with an abundance of love and help and prayers and support and encouragement.  Now, we need something else.  We need money.  If you will, we need more people to help us hold up the walls of the barn, making sure that the ministry of this sacred place can continue for generations to come.

In November, after the Bishop’s ordination, I wrote a post where I told you that Now Is The Right Time.  I told you how incredible it was (is!) to have the total support of our new Bishop as he begins his time in this diocese.  I told you that the time would come – soon – when you could easily donate money through our new database.  Well friends, this is that day.

I write this blog today, humble and hopeful that you will consider a sustaining gift to the Episcopal Conference Center.  You can give through our website here.  With our new donation system, you can arrange to have a monthly gift automatically withdrawn from your account or credit card, or you can arrange to make a yearly gift in one payment.  If the website isn’t your style, you can send a check in any amount, at any time, to ECC.

We’ve suggested two amounts for gifts, though we would be grateful for any gift in any amount.  Please read about those options, and consider those levels of giving.

One of the things about being a clergy person that has been the most spiritually enlightening for me has been giving.  The rector of my parish in North Carolina taught me to list my bills every month, and to put my pledge to God – be it to the church or other charitable donations – right at the top of my list of bills, so that when I was paid each month, the first thing I did was give back to God.  I found that in that framework, allocating a portion of my income each month to the church or to the work of organizations seeking to serve the most vulnerable in our midst was a wonderful exercise.  Giving helps me to remember how absolutely blessed I am and have always been.  Giving helps me to remember that there are so many people in the world who need my money more than me.  Giving keeps me centered, and connected, and grateful.

I won’t lie to you – Jonathan and I are not rolling in cash right now.  We took a big sabbatical and when we came back to work I was part-time and he was starting his own business.  I wouldn’t change a thing because the last two years of our lives have been the most profound and spirit-led that we have ever had – and the journey led us here.  Which is why I couldn’t be more joyful or excited about the monthly gift that we are giving to ECC. I want you to know how much I believe in the importance of our ministry here – enough that I am impatient to do my part, to give back to the camp that gave so much to me, and to give back to God.  I invite you to do the same.

And by the way – this is not going to be a one-time request.  As long as I’m the director of this camp I’m going to do everything in my power to keep our prices as low as possible.  That means we’re always going to have a gap in our budget.  Always.  But frankly, I’m not worried.  I just know how much you all love this place.  I know how much you want to see this ministry thrive.  I know that there is enough affection for this camp that generating a culture of stewardship and giving is absolutely possible.  I trust you and I believe in you.  And I know what we’re capable of, together and with God’s help.

Let’s hold up these walls, friends.  There’s something special happening inside.

the kindness project

This past Friday night up at camp I was in the fine company of our counselors and senior staff for our annual “Jan Plan” retreat – an overnight when we spend some time planning the upcoming summer.  

Part of the work we do in our planning is to pick a theme for the summer.  I admit that it took us a little time to pick one yesterday morning – it is a big decision after all.  But in the end we circled back around and opted for the theme that was the very first suggestion to come from the week.  Our theme for summer 2013 is a shortened version of Micah 6:8:

“Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly.”

I was pretty excited that this was the theme the staff decided on, not only because we can do SO much with it over the summer, but also because it has always been one of the passages of scripture that I am most partial to.  

The other funny thing about this being the theme choice is that  just the other day I tripped across an old sermon that I wrote on this passage several years ago – one that I was considering posting here on the blog.  So I’ll take this as a sign that I should post.  Please read on to hear about my attempt at a “Kindness Project”, inspired by this passage, and maybe attempt the project yourself!

The Kindness Project – January, 2011

As a preacher I try to take different approaches to my sermons depending on the day and the scripture passages I’m working with.  Some days I feel like the passages require more explanation, a little scholarship maybe.  Other days I feel like a story will really help illumine whatever it is we’ve heard read aloud.  And still other days I find something subtle in a passage that brings me in a different direction entirely.

This however, is not one of those days.  On this fine morning I want simply to call your attention to one line of our scripture and say “This.  This is a good idea.  Try this.”

Call it a waste of my seminary education if you will, but the passage we have before us today from Micah provides us with what I consider to be one of the most simple and profound instructions we have about living our life with God, and it is worthy of repeating, and being held up before you from the pulpit.

After reminding his hearers about the ways God has been with them, Micah points to the question asked by God’s people – what can we do in return?  They suggest various religious symbols – burnt offerings and sacrifices.  But Micah, like so many of the other prophets, reminds them that God is not concerned with their religious practices as much as God cares about the content of their lives day in and day out.  He offers them a method for giving gratitude to God saying, “What more does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”

So there you have it.  This a good idea.  You might try this:  Do justice.  Love kindness.  Walk humbly with God.

I could sit down now, but before I do I want to tell you about my experience this week with this good idea.  Though I’ve already shrunk the Micah passage down to this last line, I need to shrink it more, because each component of this instruction could be its own sermon – its own series.  And while I think attempting all three is a good idea, I try to set the bar a little lower for myself and so decided to focus on just one portion of this profound instruction this week: LOVE KINDNESS.

My focus on kindness started on Tuesday as I was preparing my homily on this passage for chapel with the Episcopal Day School students.  You could say I chose to narrow my message to kindness because it was the easiest concept for the kids to grasp, but let’s be honest, I’m the one that needed the easy concept.  At any rate, I felt fairly inspired that morning when I developed the idea to invite the students to take part in a Kindness Project with me.  Standing here, I explained what it means to be kind, and I asked everyone in chapel to join me in being intentionally kind – for the whole day Tuesday.  My Kindness Project included three components.  First, to be kind towards others in words and actions.    Second, to be kind to others in our thoughts.  No saying something nice and then thinking something mean.  And third, to be kind to ourselves.  No beating ourselves up because we don’t know the answer to a question, or because we make a mistake.  I told the adults that the invitation wasn’t just for the students, because Lord knows as we get older we think we know more and consequently think we are right all the time, and consequently at least think unkind thoughts on occasion.  After receiving a little chuckle from the adults I took my seat, pretty proud of myself if I do say so, for coming up with such a smart idea.  My idea was SO smart, that I decided I would extend my kindness project for myself so that it wasn’t just one day, but FIVE whole days until I would take my spot at this pulpit today.  I am a priest, after all, so it seemed appropriate to up the ante for myself in order to set an example for the kids.  Then as a bonus, I could talk to all of you about how flowery and wonderful my life had been for five days because of all the kindness that I was practicing.

I mean it sounds like a good enough idea, right?  Right.  I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING.  I am going to tell you about my five day experiment, but I want to be clear that it is not the story I expected to have for you when I came up with my bright idea on Tuesday.  The only thing I ask is that as I make my confession to you about this experience that you not judge me too harshly – be kind.

On day one, my bright and inspired self felt uplifted about my kindness project for about the five whole minutes it took for chapel to be over.  As soon as the children’s smiling faces were gone and suddenly I wasn’t the only one responsible for what was being said aloud I started to realize the challenge I was in for.  I walked tentatively out into the hallway, almost afraid to encounter someone lest I accidentally think something unkind.  I wish I could tell you that I eased into the routine after an hour or so, but that’s not really the case.  Instead, for the entire first day, I found that I could not speak or think anything at all.  Hard as it was to realize how many unkind thoughts run through my head every day I couldn’t beat myself up for it because I was trying to be kind to myself as well.  I mean really, I could have kept it at one kindness criteria and done myself a favor.

By day two things got a little easier.  I had practiced changing my thoughts around, smiling a little more, exuding love towards the people around me.  I figured out how to talk about an event that had occurred, and my feelings about it, without offering unnecessary commentary about the others involved.  I dare say by the end of day two I even found myself a little smug about how good I was at being kind.  See?  It just takes 24 hours or so to get used to it.  Piece of cake.

By day three I realized that on day two I have been “kind” to myself by taking the afternoon off of work and it is, in fact, pretty easy to be kind to yourself and others when all you are doing is reading a good novel on your couch at home.  Back in my normal routine on day three I found myself awkwardly navigating conversations all day.  Worse?  I realized that I was afraid that people wouldn’t find me interesting because I was being kind.  Yes, you heard me right.  I was afraid people wouldn’t like talking to me enough because kindness was boring.

By day four it was clear to me that all of those unkind thoughts that pop into our heads during the day are actually part of our defense mechanism.  Someone approaches you and says something flippant, or thoughtless, or maybe something you really disagree with, and you immediately think… well, something I wouldn’t say from the pulpit.  And you know what?  You think something like that – something unkind – because its way easier than experiencing whatever feeling is lying beneath a snarky comment.  By day four, unable to mentally escape with some fantasy about telling someone off, I felt vulnerable and raw.  Robbed of my angry inner dialog as a defense, I was left with sadness, hurt, and disappointment.

By day five I had unknowingly achieved one of the other exhortations we are offered from Micah this morning.  By day five, I was walking pre-tty humbly with God.  Unable to do much else, I found my prayer time increasing as I came to grips with what a challenge it was for me to practice intentional kindness.  I would have never guessed how massive an undertaking it would be for me to change my thoughts, my speech, my conversations with close friends behind closed doors.  There’s nothing like a seemingly fun invitation to some school children to help me realize how much of a work in progress I still am, and how desperately I need God’s guidance in my life.

But there was something else I realized by day five.  I realized that five days really isn’t enough.  Because over those days, in the midst of my fascination, shock, mortification, and painful awareness, I caught glimpses of transformation.  The moments were fleeting, because I have only just begun to explore this way of thinking and being, but I saw them.  With more time, I could see how practicing intentional kindness would make the world I live in a brighter place.  Not because I would turn into some kind of Mother Teresa, but because my inner spiritual life would be transformed.  That was the most alarming part of my experiment – realizing how much negativity lives in my head.  But practicing kindness breaks up that automatic pilot, and other change happens naturally.  Love, forgiveness, compassion, justice, and humility are a little easier to come by because you’ve cleared a little bit of space on that mental shelf.  I also couldn’t help but speculate about what our community and world would be like if we were to all be this intentional about kindness – not because that’s how you get by socially, but because it is the standard that God asks for us.  Because it brings about transformation.

For what it’s worth, I missed the goal plenty of times over the last five days.  I have a long way to go.  But I think I might at least keep trying because, if for no other reason, once you’ve started to pay attention to something like this it’s hard to knowingly go back to your old way of being.  And I guess – even though I almost hate to do it to you – I’m inviting you to try this with me.  Even just to see what it’s like – if nothing else, you’ll learn something.

So there you have it.  Your invitation, should you choose to accept it:  Do justice, LOVE KINDNESS, and walk humbly with your God.  This… this is a good idea.  Amen.

seasons of love

A few weeks ago at the end of another fabulous Zumba class my instructor introduced a new cool-down song.  The choreography of the stretching was new to me, but the song is one I have loved for years.  It caught me completely off-guard to go from our thumping latin and club music to this song, but I admit to being more than a little excited when the first notes of “Seasons of Love” from the Broadway musical Rent starting playing over the speakers.

I’ve loved Zumba for a while now, but I’ve loved Broadway musicals for a lot longer.  In fact, I think one of the reasons I love being at camp so much is that it’s the closest thing to a real live musical that I’ll ever be a part of: we break into song and dance spontaneously at any time.  Rent has been a particular favorite of mine since it first started on Broadway when I was in high school, and this incredibly beautiful song was one of the first I heard and loved.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsj15wPpjLY

525,600 minutes.  That’s how many we have in a year.  The song asks us to consider how we measure our lives, and makes the final plea:

Measure your life in love.

My instructor hasn’t picked this particular cool-down that many times since she introduced it, but I sure love it when she plays it.  I can barely do the stretches I’m so busy singing (and the music plays so loud that I can belt it out without anyone hearing me – it’s the BEST!).  It’s a great way to end class because I’m all happy and tired from a great hour of dancing, and then I get this surprise spiritual bonus at the end – a song that just warms my heart.

The other day she played it and I found myself particularly overwhelmed with gratitude.  Probbaly because we are approaching the end of the year, and it’s impossible not to reflect just a little on what the last year has held for me.  So while I was listening to the song, and the compelling request to measure our lives in love – well, I couldn’t help but think I’m sure measuring up pretty good this year.

It’s interesting, really. As far as the “real world” goes, I’m not sure 2012 was a banner year for me.  My husband and I moved in with my mom, where we lived for the entirety of the year.  Each of us worked part-time if at all over the past 12 months.  Jonathan had no insurance.  We had old, junky cars.  When all my clergy colleagues were “advancing” to rector positions, I stepped out of parish ministry and took on a part-time camp director job.  On paper, things don’t look all that great.

But love… oh we just broke the bank on love this year.  I remember writing in a blog post before the summer started that I suspected my heart was going to grow a bit over the summer, but I could never have anticipated how much I would love the staff, campers, visiting staff, and clergy that came to spend time at ECC this summer.  I cannot believe how full my heart is in this ministry.  Adding to the experiences I had professionally, I got to live with my mom for the year! While that’s not every thrity-something’s dream, it was, in fact, extremely sweet to spend the year with her – especially after living in different states for so many years.  I also had a new niece come into the world this year.  There’s nothing like having your family get bigger.  Holding that little one I think my heart might actually explode.  I started Zumba this year, which has brought friendships into my life that I couldn’t have asked for or imagined.  Not only do those friends make my life that much better but I get to spend several hours a week DANCING.  What’s better than that?  Then I got to share that dancing with the camp community and well… that was just about completely transformational for our little corner of Pascoag.

I could go on and on, but I realize that might start to get obnoxious.  But it’s important for me, as this year draws to a close, to make note of everything that I’m grateful for.  I am profoundly grateful that while 2012 was lacking some of the clout, status, and financial gain the world tells you is important, it was undeniably rich in relationship, grace, and love.

Friends, thank you for being a part of my year, and my life.  I am grateful for you.  As you reflect on your year I hope you also feel surrounded and blessed by people you love.  And don’t for a moment think you aren’t measuring up somehow.  Instead, just remember what matters: Measure your life in love.

Mother Mary

I am in North Carolina today where I have been now for several days visiting with my youngest sister, her husband, and their two beautiful little girls.  Maggie, the oldest, was 2 in August, and Lizzie was born six weeks ago.  These two perfect children bring so much joy to my life that I almost can’t contain it all.

This morning Maggie had her pre-school Christmas Concert at the Methodist Church where she goes to “school”.  We’ve been listening to her sing Jingle Bells (only the first line… “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way – hey!”) over and over all week in preparation for the concert, so we had a sense of what was coming.  But nothing could have prepared us for the wonder of the morning.  Maggie didn’t sing a word, despite all of her practicing, but she led the clapping at the end (or at what she perceived to be the end) of every song.  She was darling, and I’m not just saying that because we are related.  She looked a little confused when she was led out onto the “stage” clutching onto her portion of the ribbon connecting her to her classmates, but upon seeing her mom and dad sitting in the congregation she perked up, her eyes widening and her little hand waving to them like they were the only two people in the audience.

I admit to being skeptical about these kinds of concerts in the past, including a moment this morning when we tried to get tights and a dress onto Maggie and she was in full-scale meltdown.  I wasn’t sure why we go through all this trouble when the kids hardly remember the event and would be perfectly happy just to have snack time and read a story.  But I admit that my opinion changed the moment those little ones walked out in front of the room full of beaming parents.  I didn’t even wince when the 3 and 4 year olds nearly shouted an overly enthusiastic version of J-E-S-U-S to the tune of Bingo (yowzers).  No, I loved every single second of that show. I’d even go so far as to say that little Christmas concert was sacred, because in the midst of a very busy season there was an opportunity for parents and relatives to be overwhelmed with love for their children – even if those same children spent the morning screaming about getting into their tights.

The only problem with the events of the morning is that my heart was all warm and wide open when I then learned about a different set of little ones, who had a day that ended in total tragedy.  A day that should have been full of singing, and anticipation, and joy.  As we rode in the car after lunch I glanced at my phone and saw the reports about the shooting in Connecticut. And I know I would have been sick with grief at that news any hour of any day of the week, but there was something about just having been with all those smiling children this morning that made the pain that much more sharp.  Twenty children dead.  Twenty.  Maybe even more.  And adults too.

The numbers are staggering.  And they were children.   It is devastating.

I cried some.  I can’t seem to stop crying, actually. I pray in fits and spurts.  I check Facebook every couple of minutes because somehow that connects me to the other people in my life.  I squeeze my nieces just a little more tightly, and I smother them in kisses when they desperately want a little space.  I turn the news on, and them I’m disgusted, and I turn it back off.

And then there’s something else that I find myself doing – on repeat.  I keep watching the video from Music Camp at ECC this past summer.  I keep listening to, or singing,  ”Requiem” – the song that my middle sister taught us during our all-camp chorus.  The piece was written for the victims of the tsunami in Inodnesia, but I’m finding that they are exactly the words I need to hear today:

“Mother Mary, full of grace, awaken.  All our homes are gone, our loved ones taken.  Taken by the sea.  Mother Mary calm our fears, have mercy.  Drowning in a sea of tears, have mercy.  Hear our mournful plea.  Our world has been shaken we wander our homelands forsaken. In the dark night of the soul bring some comfort to us all, oh Mother Mary come and carry us in your embrace that our sorrows may be faced…

Mary, fill the glass to overflowing.  Illuminate the path where we are going.  Have mercy on us all.  In funeral fires burning, each flame to your mystery returning.  

In the dark night of the soul, your shattered dreamers, make them whole, oh Mother Mary find us where we’ve fallen out of grace.  Lead us to a higher place.   In the dark night of the soul our broken hearts you can make whole, oh Mother Mary come and carry us in your embrace.  Let us see your gentle face, Mary.”

I know that many prayers and lamentations are being offered up to God today, and I will add my voice to the throng.  When my voice waivers, I will continue to add my tears.  But I will also call to Mary today.  I can’t forget that it is Advent, and we are waiting for the coming of our Lord.  I can’t forget that in these cold days of winter we think of a young woman and the child she carried.  I think of how she loved him. I think of how she grieved when he died.  And I think she must be grieving today – understanding as perhaps few others can.  I like to think of her warm embrace around those little ones, mercy in her arms and love on her lips.  And I pray for her grace and mercy to extend to all of us in our broken-heartedness.

You can watch the video here.

Hug your little ones extra tight tonight – they need your love.  We all do.

May the souls of all the departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
Amen.