The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “good.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! I caught this huge flock of geese flying north! Spring is coming and that’s a really good thing!
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “weighed.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! I saw this beautiful bald eagle on a walk the other day. The question I’m pondering is whether the weight of the bird is greater on the tree than the need for food is on the bird. This must not be an easy season for this noble bird.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “accomplish.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so below is a haiga!
A word of explanation: I have spent nearly five years living in the Binghamton area and I have driven down 26 to Vestal Parkway probably hundreds of times over the years. Almost every time I either drive over this bridge and exit to drive underneath it or take a back road which leads me to drive down the parkway under this bridge. In nearly five years, I never knew what was over the dirt embankment. It turns out it is the Vestal Rail Trail which I walked and prayed over on Sunday. This is several kilometers from where I started to walk. I saw something new while doing something healthy with my stress. That’s a great accomplishment for a pastor who usually spends Sunday afternoon napping!
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “dazzling.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! I was walking with my toddler while praying through life yesterday when suddenly the sun burst out of the clouds. It has felt like forever since the sun struck my skin. It was glorious and reminded me of those first few verses of Genesis…
Tonight I had the first night of three evenings in a row with committee meetings. I found myself coming home and needing to let off some steam by thinking about something besides the church. I noticed that dVerse~Poets Pub was having another poetry challenge. Today’s is the quadrille or a 44 word poem with the word “Spike” involved in some way, shape, or form in the poem. I tried a pair of different poems for fun.
The first poem is inspired by my marvelous wife who sometimes forgets just how talented she happens to be. At the Father-Daughter dance at the school the other day, a friend remarked how the look my daughter gave her sister came straight from her mother. My wife is fierce, strong, and intelligent–Athena personified in my life. So, this first quadrille poem is for her. Also, it is a rondelet because apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.
You pierce my heart dear.
“Athena’s Rondelet,” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019. Written in honor of my wife.
My heart rate spikes as I stop to wonder.
You pierce my heart dear.
Athena questions her footing in fear
While I listen and hear ringing thunder
As heaven’s mold she does break asunder.
You pierce my heart dear.
My second poem is far less serious. It is entirely about a fictional video game character that I have been hanging out with off and on since July 13, 2016. We’ve been spending more time than usual lately as it turns out walking is the one exercise I can do well without throwing out my back. That comment is not an invitation for advice… The character is my Snorlax from Pokémon Go, which is totally not my intellectual property. Hey, free publicity though… I like your game. It is mindless and good motivation to keep on walking. The number of kilometers I have walked with this goon kinda shocks me. The poem’s form is ABABCC
Five kilometers for just one candy.
“Pokémon Quadrille” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019. Feel free to use this Niantic!
My heart rate spikes as black ice makes me slip.
My Pokémon Snorlax will be handy
If I could only earn more on this trip.
I straighten up and continue walking.
No one loses weight sitting and talking.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “pray.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! My prayer today is for the United Methodist Church.
Watching her face glow.
Captain Marvel stands up as
She smiles with a tear.
Oh Thanos, you're in for it:
My daughter will have no less.
Kevin Feige, I’m not a DC guy. I grew up with the X-Men, Spiderman, and Iron Man, but I can learn if you disappoint my daughters!
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “rest.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! Today’s Sabbath reflection comes from last Friday. I kept whispering sweet words to my youngest daughter as she napped. She kept smiling.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “test.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! This photo describes life with a furnace you don’t own, can’t replace, and just want to go all “A Christmas Story” on but can’t because the kids are home and you’re a pastor.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “given.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! This photo describes life with our two older children.
A few weeks ago I sat with a sick infant in the depths of night. Wet cloth cooling a fever from the now rare chicken pox. I rocked and contemplated what we would do if the fever spiked again. It was dark in that room in more ways that one.
“Her Forehead” by The Distracted Pastor, 2019
A few weeks ago I sat with a parent in grief over an upcoming surgery. A sweet child in need of care. I contemplated her struggle and prayed for more than just the child. I prayed for my own forgiveness because I was grateful my child was not the one in need of that care.
A few weeks ago I sat and ate elementary school spaghetti. It was exactly how I remembered it. We sat, laughed, talked, and even danced as we tried to support some friends’ family in their hour of need. I could stomach school spaghetti far easier than letting my friends feel they were alone after caring for a baby who spent a lot of time in the NICU.
Yesterday I saw the ash on her forehead and I realized that she was mortal too. Today she is well but one day she will be in God’s hands. My heart broke as I realized a truth that had been walking through the edges of my soul.
On the day of ash
We contemplate our own path
Down through our life’s end.
Easier to see your own
Than on your daughter’s sweet face.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “tempted.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! I’m guessing most of you know how well this plan ended.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “full.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! This photo was taken at a spaghetti fundraiser for a family friend’s child (who happens to be probably as close to a best friend as my one year old has at this point).
Hear the deep sound of how my heart does pound.
“Poem for General Conference” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019
Listen to the call of Your servant child.
Draw madly near to those with this task dear
To those who seek You in these times so wild.
Fill Your children full in ways which will pull
Our community through this way forward.
Give them a deep trust in the ways which must
Guide our ships from seas of chaos: shoreward.
We really don’t know how things will go
As we trust Your Spirit to guide us all.
Abba please lead our way on through this day
And be with all those whose faith may shrink small.
God give us the grace which we need to face
The way we seek by the light of Your Son.
Things may be rough; help those tender be tough
When all is done may we who pray be one.
I am currently entering into the final steps of preparing my second year project for the Academy for Spiritual Formation. I am thinking that I will have most of the project revolve around the usage of poetry and prayer. I was recently reading through a book I borrowed from the library called “The Art and Craft of Poetry” by Michael Bugeja. On the seventy third page of that tome, Mr. Bugeja quotes the poet Kevin Bezner as saying “All true poetry is religious poetry–all poems are prayers–but not in the sense of a belief in or worship of a god or a supernatural power.”
Given my particular approach to poetry, I found that statement to be intriguing. Mr. Bugeja paraphrases Mr. Bezner, saying “true or sincere poems, by their very nature, always reflect a poet’s faith, commitment, desire to commune, conscientiousness and devotion…”
If poetry does reflect and express the poet’s faith and commitment, then perhaps there is a sense at which heartfelt poetry is prayer. One of my greatest challenges with liturgy is the struggle to include the word “Amen” after every prayer. For a long time, hymns concluded with an amen. Nowadays, it seems as if almost every prayer needs and “Amen” in order to conclude.
Amen has a rich history and depth of meaning. The usage of the word for the congregation to enter into the depth of the prayer is helpful. When we say amen after someone prays, we become a part of that prayer orally. It is a wonderful act of inclusion in an act of worship, but often folks seem to believe that any prayer must have an amen. This is not true.
I thought I’d share a poem I recently wrote in an attitude of prayer after a saint invited me over to lunch. I wrote it for a thank you note, but I thought it was a perfect way of expressing how a prayer can be found in poetry.
Scents waft up from a warm bowl of chili rich yet faint.
“Full” by The Distracted Pastor, 2019
As I sit to share a meal with an elder saint.
She has made special biscuits for us to share
And we break bread together with prayer.
With cheese and conversation our meal
Is filled with a depth you can feel.
I listen with quiet peace
As my inner cares cease.
I try to be here
With one so dear.
I’m thankful,
Grateful,
Full…
The form itself was fairly simple. I started with thirteen syllables a line and decreased a syllable each consecutive line. The rhyming pattern is a set of 5 couplets with a rhyming envoi creating one tercet at the end. It is clearly a poem.
It is also clearly a prayer. I intended to express care, gratitude, and thankfulness for the opportunity. Although God is not addressed by name, there is homage paid to communion in the mentioning of the breaking of the bread. The person I shared a meal with is a saint, there’s a stillness while listening that ties back to the idea of silence in contemplation and prayer. Even the mentioning of saints can draw our thoughts to God.
Psalm 19:14 says “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” It is my belief that poetry that seeks to live into this verse really is prayer.
The Good Shepherd comes
“Shepherd” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019
And will find all of the ones
Who are left out cold.
Praise God with loud drum.
“Alouette Ode to Psalm 150” by The Distracted Pastor, 2019
Praise God with low hum.
Praise God with rocking guitars.
Praise God with your voice.
Praise God with your choice.
Praise God beneath all the stars.
Breathe deep as you strum.
Breathe and let soul thrum.
Breathe deep and cry with your heart.
Breathe with open mind.
Breathe deep and be kind.
Breathe, rise, and make a fresh start.
Today’s poem was inspired by Psalm 150. We’ll be reading the psalm this Sunday in church. I wrote it in the “Alouette” poetry form. I tied together the two stanzas by rhyming the first two lines in each stanza.
My process was to envision the first stanza as a response to God’s Presence (which echoes powerfully in Psalm 150) and the second stanza as the body breathing in preparation of living with that Presence in the world.
What happened to you?
“A Poem born in Prayer” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019
I was raised in your old pews
And was taught deep faith.
I don’t recognize all this.
I lament what I now see.
It was not easy.
You remember the good things.
In my family
There have always been battles
As people work through this life.
Can we just go back
To the time of innocence
When it all seemed well
Before our eyes were opened
And we saw through the curtain?
Those days were hard days.
People fought to bring the light
To entrenched evils.
People died to get us here
Where martyrs may yet come forth.
What should we do then?
Everything seems far too large
For my human hands.
Where should we go in these days
When all may be asked of us?
Let us go to pray
At the feet of my Lover.
My Love is as near
Now like once in Babylon
And in cold dark Roman cells.
Come near to the fire.
No fiery furnace burns hot
as my Love’s passion.
The days ahead may yet burn
But you will always be loved.
I wrote this prayer poem in a conversation between my soul and God. The bold parts are a personification of the church. I was reminded in that time of prayer that nothing in the church was ever perfect. We cannot go back. The only way is forward.
Frost covers a world
“Ice and Love” by The Distracted Pastor. 2019
In need of kind and warm grace.
Are you called to act?
Ice over living water
Is often broken by love.
Today we awoke to a house surrounded by ice. Ice is a wonderful gift in the middle of a hot summer day in a cold drink. In the middle of winter, ice can often be a challenge more than a slight inconvenience.
For the past few hours I have been working at deicing the church parking lot in anticipation of upcoming events at the church. I have made little headway and our local radio station is predicting further ice tonight.
While broadcasting salt across the ice this morning I thought back to the times in my life when I worked with the homeless, especially during my college years. I thought about the challenges faced by folks who want to the right thing to help someone, but do not know what to do. If you give someone money, will it be used wisely? If you give them a flashlight, will they trade it for something else?
One of the first lessons I learned is that you cannot control what others do. If you bless someone with a flashlight, they might trade it for something else. If you offer them a blanket, they might exchange it for a drink of something untoward. You cannot control what other people do, but that does not mean that there are not concrete things you can do to help others.
Here are a few of things I would suggest:
Keep a blanket blessing in your trunk. I suggest a warm blanket that is not large or bulky. Roll that blanket up with two pairs of new thick, warm socks, a knit cap, and a pair of gloves. The time to make these blessing blankets is not now. If you wait until end of season sales, stock up on the gloves, hats, and winter socks when they’re on clearance. Set a limit to what you want to do next winter (e.g., one set, five sets, ten sets) and store them with your winter snow brush. Put them in your trunk when you put your snow brush back in your car next fall.
Offer to buy someone a meal instead of giving them money. If they are hungry, ask them if you can buy them something to eat and then follow through. If you do not have time to sit with them, offer to bring them drive-thru or takeout. Offer to get them a hot drink with the food. The heat goes a long way. Note: Some people will say no to your offer or try and convince you to just give them the money. Use your best judgment, but I would suggest you offer the food and hot drink.
Instead of offering people money, buy a box of those chemical hand warmers at the end of the season. Offer them to people who are out in the cold. It is a simple gift. As a caution, check the expiration date if you’re buying for the next season. Unlike the blanket blessing, they expire.
If you live in a semi-rural location or in a location with more local businesses than chain restaurants, talk with a local restauranteur. Ask if you can buy a certificate for a “meal” complete with warm drink, food, and the tip included. If you talk with a small business owner and explain what you are doing, they may help you out. This may be something that ends up being traded, but if you are concerned it is still better than giving money.
“Hey Candy. Crush me!”
“Gummy Bear Senryu” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019
I laugh. The gummy bear flew.
Twenty six pounds hurts.
I wrote this senryu to play a little bit with the “Games Night” theme at the dVerse Poets’ Pub. I have played enough video games to realize that it is sometimes fun to pretend not to know anything about them.
This poem is inspired by a twenty six pound Gummy Bear that you can actually buy. Who needs chocolates for Valentine’s Day? Seriously though, you could kill someone with that thing. I imagine it’ll make an appearance in a Dead Rising game at some point if it hasn’t already.
By the way, this is my 200th blog post! I have others scheduled for the next few days, but I wanted to say thank you to everyone who keeps encouraging me by reading and enjoying my posts, even when they’re silly. Blessings to you.
Be as the clay.
“Be as the Clay” Rondelet by The Distracted Pastor, 2019
Mix living water with your dust:
Be as the clay.
Bend, mold, move, and flex as you must;
Be made in furnace fired by trust;
In joyful purpose with life thrust:
Be as the clay.
This week in church we’re looking at Jeremiah 18:1-6 with our children during worship. In the passage, Jeremiah is called to walk down to a potter’s house to observe the potter at work.
With our children we will talk about how God can work in our lives. Clay itself can be nasty stuff when you dig a shovel into a yard and find the dense stuff below a thin layer of topsoil. It can be challenging work to move enough of the stuff to plant even the smallest of tree bulbs. Clay is difficult stuff; however, in the hands of a master potter clay can be wonderful for creating beautiful things. We will tell our kids they are being made into beautiful creations. Call it naive hope or call it prophecy, I believe each of the kids in our church have a bright future ahead of them as awesome people.
The challenge is that there’s a second side to this story. Jeremiah is a prophet called to a place that needs prophetic work done in their lives. The clay needs to be reworked in Israel. As their potter, God claims the right to rework what has been done.
I wrote the rondelet above to look at this reality. I wanted to lean into the concept of being clay. We work hard at building lives in this world and it can be difficult to trust even God to rework the clay of our lives when we become comfortable with the way things are in our lives.
We sometimes need to be reworked. We need to work that living water into our lives, to be flexible, and to even be fired in the oven. We might be tempted to look at this reworking as punishment, especially if we are comfortable. Sometimes, we will put up with a lot of cracks and chips to stay comfortable. Some of us would do anything to just be left alone.
The attitude that says “Just leave me be” does not necessarily help us. If I have a broken arm that has set poorly, it may need to be broken and set again. If I have a heart valve that is leaking, I may need to see my cardiologist if I want to live a longer life. When sick we need a doctor. When cracked, we may need to see our Potter.
This reworking is not necessarily pleasant. If you are struggling through a remaking, I want you to know that you are neither the first nor the last to face a challenge in your life of faith. You are more than likely surrounded by people who have faced their own challenges. You are not alone.
Be still.
“Be Still” by The Distracted Pastor, 2019
As scents fill you,
As odd sights confound you,
And as you want to run away:
Be still…
I recently spent time with someone who was ill in a care facility. I wrote this post a while back to help preserve the person’s identity, but this post is not about their story. This post is about my story and my experience.
The situation on my end was that I was waiting in a care facility which is filled with people facing challenges. The staff was present and diligent, but it is a facility full of people with differing needs. I found myself waiting impatiently as the sounds, scents, and distractions which come in such a place filled my senses.
I ordinarily do not spend time waiting in such facilities. I enter, I head straight where I need to go, focus on the individual, visit with family, pray, and head out the door. I generally do not have time to sit, to think, or to read in such places. I do not have time for my mind to wander. This day was different, so I opened my Kindle to read as I waited.
I spent some time reading through “Desert Fathers and Mothers: Early Christian Wisdom Sayings–Annotated & Explained” by Christine Valters Paintner. I restlessly flipped through the chapter headings until I found the chapter entitled “Solitude, Silence, and Hesychia.”
The chapter is not a long chapter. Abbess Paintner referred to three quotations in that section. As much as I respect the Abbess’ selection of ancient sources, her wisdom shines forth in her annotations. She writes:
“Sitting in our cell requires patience to not run from ourselves or flee back into the world of distraction and numbness. It means being fully present to our inner life without anxiety. Interior peace comes through sitting in silence, through attentiveness and watchfulness.”
Abbess Paintner in the second footnote for chapter ten
I found myself reflecting on the concepts of patience and stillness as my senses picked up on less than pleasant smells. In that moment, the place I was called to spend my time was that room with everything in the air. My cell was a chair in the midst of this person’s life. I found myself trying to be attentive, watchful, and present even as some part of me tried not to breathe too deeply. The scents, the sights, and the sounds made me more than a little anxious.
I found myself struggling in those moments after reading the Abbess’ thoughts. Was I letting those scents keeping me from being present with the individual sleeping in the bed? Was I letting my dislike of the scents keep me from being present with someone whose every breath contains the aromas that were filling my nostrils? There was some part of me that struggled with shame for focusing on the distractions and another part that wondered if the distractions might not be the blessing in disguise.
I was filled with questions, but the one that stuck with me was the loudest question that filled my mind. Was I open to knowing this was someone’s experience? Was I open to walking with someone as their body struggled? Was I open to being God’s hands and feet in such a place? Was I willing to see God in that place?
It would be easy to numb myself to the situation. I could run to my car and refill my diffuser with peppermint. I could rush home, put on the aromatic earl gray tea to settle my senses, and I could rush home to hug my toddler who seems to always smell of lavender when you smell her hair. It would be easy to flee back to distraction and numbness, but would I find true peace in distraction?
I find myself casting my mind to Matthew 25. In Matthew 25, the Son of Man comes in glory to bring judgment to an imperfect world. The Son of Man separates folks and says to one group that they are blessed because they gave food to the hungry, drink to the thirst, welcome to the stranger, clothes to the naked, care to the sick, and visited the imprisoned. The people did not understand when they had done these things. The Son of Man replies (in the NRSV) “Truly, I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
We who are engaged in helping care for others often look on this passage and find comfort. We have given a dollar at the Red Kettle at Christmas, have donated a can of food to the food pantry, and gave a little extra when we could. We have helped the least of these. I could rush home and say “I visited one of the least of these! I’m good!”
Would Christ ask “Did you really visit the least of these or did you do the least you could for these?” Are we open to realize we may be called to radical love that sits through the dirt of life? Are we open to realize that loving God’s children may mean sitting in smelly places? Are we open to realize that God may call us to a deeper fellowship with those in need than the bare minimum?
I do not write such challenging words from a place of judgment. If anything, I feel convicted by my own words. What does this look like in our lives? If we are to live into God’s kingdom, do we all need to live radically transformed lives? Perhaps we are not all called to a care facility, but perhaps we are all called somewhere beyond what is comfortable for us. It is worth contemplating.
On the cold days when all warmth seems to fall asunder
I seek out the deep depths of my wardrobe to plunder
One of the best blessings from Christmas past: warm sweater
To keep the frost from my bones during winter’s wonder.For some a warm blanket might seem a choice far better
Or a towel from the dryer when things are wetter;
still, I do feel there is nothing else that I could know
To be as warm and cozy as once gift wrapped sweater.So on a frosty morn with coffee in hand I show
This ugly sweater that they once gave me years ago.
Yes, I will join them under a blanket warmed with love
But that warmth fills my heart. I can take both kinds to go.If you see me with February reindeer don’t shove
“February Sweater” by The Distracted Pastor, 2019
Me out of your mind with coarse fashionista’s glove.
I do not wear this as a fashion faux-pas blunder.
I wear it because it warms me with both wool and love.
I wrote this poem for the dVerse poetry form rubaiyat challenge. We were invited to reflect on our writing process. I was thinking about the prompt offered by Frank Hubeny in the comment of “vortex.” I did not want to go straight into the vortex as I somewhat covered my feelings on the polar vortex with my blogs on “Ice” and the angry poem about that groundhog.
I started to think about the polar vortex and the cold that filled our home despite our best efforts last week. I thought about how nice it was to be warm, but that most forms of being warm were transient. Despite the subzero temperatures, the sweaters I wore did keep me warm wherever I went. I didn’t look very fashionable, but I was warm.
So, in many ways this was an ode to both those awful Christmas sweaters and to the kids who made sure I had warm clothes to wear. I enjoyed writing it even as it wandered around from one quatrain to the next. I guess, in a sense I am grateful for the kids, the sweaters, and for the prompt for happy contemplation.
If you were wondering, I do own an actual wardrobe. No, I haven’t found Narnia… yet…
You are not alone.
“Reminder” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019
Trees stand through fierce winter storms
They bud with spring heat.
Trees are amazing creatures.
What if you’re amazing too?
You are in spotlights…
The Distracted Pastor, 2019
How did you not see shadow???
You lying rodent…
This senryu was written while waiting for a chance to grab lunch. Hunger has an effect on my sense of humor. It was written in response to Frank Tasson’s Haikai Challenge. The challenge responded to being cold and was presented on the day when the famous shadow forecasting of a particularly coddled groundhog on February 2nd said it would be warm soon. I obviously went with the senryu form, which is obviously not to be taken as a personal insult to the people of Punxsutawney.
Distracted Pastor Ramblings 