Beautiful Bridge

Today is Saturday. I am approaching noon and have been trying to get my brain to engage with “work” for a couple of hours now. Fall is my favorite season and that outdoors is calling to me. Saturdays are difficult in the fall.

Yesterday I took a long hike at Buttermilk Falls. I followed the Rim, Gorge, and Larch Meadow trails around the area. If I had brought more water, I probably would have walked the Bear trail as well, but it was still a nice hike around the parkgrounds. I enjoyed taking lots of photos, although I should have brought a different lens.

Below is one of the my favorite pictures from the hike. I came across the bridge partially down the trail and was completely alone as the sunlight began to stream down into the gorge. It was beautiful and serene.

Anticipation of Advent Worship

Last night I was sitting at the kitchen table working through one of the first sessions of “Simply Wait: Cultivating Stillness in the Season of Advent” by Pamela Hawkins. I stared into the light of the Advent flames (as my own celebration of Advent began after Christ the King Sunday) and asked myself a question: “What do I anticipate experiencing [in God’s house during Advent]?”

The flames flickered as the coffee wafted through my nostrils. I pondered the season ahead. What do I anticipate? Do I expect to find a living and loving God bringing hope?

As a pastor, I can testify that Advent and Lent are two seasons of the year that can easily run out of control. I can testify that I have had more staff and volunteers quit the church (and often faith itself) during these two seasons of the year. In truth, with the possible exception of my first year of ministry, I cannot remember one of these seasons passing without a challenge in one form or another. These two holy times can be difficult seasons between special programs, natural disasters, and traditions which sometimes grow out of control.

The question remains: What do I anticipate this holy season? Do I anticipate things rushing out of control? There is a part of my soul that expects the worst to happen and for me to be required to rush around like a chicken with my head cut off. There is also a part of me that longs for something better, something quieter, and something holier.

I stared into the burning advent candles and pondered what it would look like as a pastor to anticipate holy stillness in the house of the Lord. What would it look like to worship in a way where I could sing songs with my heart? What would it look like to have time for silence and prayer? What would it look like to worship in a way where we could focus more on the proclamation of scripture and less on the sermon?

As time shifted, I began to ponder what it would look like as a parent. What would I anticipate this holy season when I came into God’s house? After listening to children tell me their desires for weeks, what would it mean to anticipate moments of waiting? What would it mean for worship to be a place where I do not have to be the only person saying: “Patience, my child.” What if God were to speak those words into my heart as a parent? What if God were to speak those words into my heart as a person?

What do you anticipate this holy season? Is there space for silence? Is there space for peace? I hope we all find that quietness.

Let us be Ramble: Poetry in a Jumble

Hello from the land between one space and another. Last week I finished up the last of the Annual Meetings for the two halves of my church charge. Next week we are welcoming a new Administrative Assistant into our church office. I have been without an assistant (during the day) for four months and things have been a little chaotic around the office.

This is the land between one moment and another. Exacerbating this time between moments is the fact that our preschool program is off on a field trip this morning. This church is a very quiet place today. I am taking advantage of the quiet to sit in our future assistant’s office to work and pray today. I am trying to imbue the room with prayer in an attempt to be a blessing to our new assistant.

A few minutes ago I was sitting in the quiet and reading through my next book for the Academy for Spiritual Formation. I began to enter into the next book on my list which is “Abide: Keeping Vigil with the Word of God” by Macrina Wiederkehr. In many ways, this book is very different than the last book that I read for the academy. This book is focused on entering into the text and helping readers to grow deeper in their own time in scripture. There is less exposition and more reflection. Regardless, here is what Sister Wiederkehr writes on the very nature of entering into a quest for the word of God: (pg. 8)

“It is not easy to find the Word of God in the midst of a jumble of words. The secret is connection. A community of words connects with each other and somehow in that connection we discern God’s Word for us. Praying with the white space between the words, sentences, and paragraphs is also important. The artist in us needs white space—our place of waiting, listening, and being. White space is the womb and the tomb in which we abide. We will experience birth, life, and death there, as we keep vigil with the Word of God”

As I reflected on these words in this empty space a few things stuck out to me revolving around the white space and the connections between words through spaces. This paragraph was incredibly effective at drawing things out of my depths.

The first place this paragraph took me was into the present. I am sitting in a church office which is unoccupied by an assistant at the moment. My wife has been assisting before and after her work, but in general, this office has been empty. It is a white space. Melissa sat in this place and blessed this community. Bonnie sat in this place and blessed this community. My wife has sat in this place in a different way in an attempt to make space for the person who would follow her.

Soon our new assistant will begin her own ministry of blessing from this place. She will do things differently. She’ll connect to some traditions out of Bonnie’s methods and some tradition’s out of Melissa’s methods. She’ll create her own traditions and methods. Soon this place will begin to be reshaped by her presence in our midst. In the meantime, this sacred space is empty, quiet, and waiting in stillness. This is a holy moment—this is “the womb and the tomb” where a new ministry will be born, live, and someday conclude. Hopefully that conclusion will be many years and many blessings from now. This is a sacred white space.

The second place this paragraph took me to in my reflection was to Annual Conference. The entire idea behind Annual Conference is supposed to be “holy conferencing.” Somewhere in the midst of all of the debate, motions, and rules of order there is supposed to be a place where the Holy Spirit works, moves, and expresses itself through the people gathered together in prayer and discernment.

This paragraph reminded me of Annual Conference because of the sacred white spaces. I recall Cathy Hall Stengel standing up in conference this year asking the bishop where there was space for people not on two sides of a particular issue to express their voices. She called for white space. I recall JJ Warren standing up and expressing his call to ordained ministry when the doors had been closed on him due to his sexuality and requesting room to respond to God’s inevitable and unavoidable call on his soul. He was requesting that creative white space be made for the Holy Spirit to call the people God was calling into ministry.

I recall many moments where there was a need for creativity, grace, and kindness. Places were required for life to be born, live, and conclude through the power of the Holy Spirit. There needed to be white spaces before all became an unending cacophony of noise without rest, meter, or even tonal structure.

These thoughts came out as I pondered this selection, but I also found myself drawn to the concept of the connection of words. If everyone carries a bit of God’s image within them, then there is a bit of God’s creative word in all of the people we see. Sister Wiederkehr wrote (pg. 9) that “Every person you encounter during the hours of your day is a word that God has spoken into the world. You too are one of God’s spoken words. And now God speaks through you.” We are connected to each other through the very fact that we are part of the poetry God is writing in this moment.

My brother in Christ Kevin Nelson from Schenectady First United Methodist Church shared the African concept of “ubuntu” on the floor of Conference last week. He translated it roughly as “I am who I am because of who we are.” In my mind, his view of connectedness draws from this idea from Sister Wiederkehr nicely. We are who we are because of the voice of God spoken into each person at the table.

Why do we seek justice? The people we seek to help each carry a bit of God’s poetic word in our midst. Why do we seek love, mercy, and grace? The people who need these things (including ourselves) are all bearers of God’s creative word. Why do we comb through the scriptures listening, abiding, and trusting in God’s encompassing love? We do these things because who we are as a people has called us into a poetic dialogue with scripture. The words on the page, the words in our lives, and the white spaces between connect to create something beautiful.

Is this easy? No! In retrospect, the very first sentence of the quote I referenced above has proven foundational in all of the places where Sister Wiederkehr’s words led me to reflect today. It is definitely not easy to find the word of God in the midst of the jumble of words we come across in life. Even discounting the carriers of God’s words who like to honk car horns, cut people off, and act less than kindly, the words in the Bible itself can be jumbled, confused, and distracting.

As I do enter into the word myself this day, I will do so realizing the challenge within me. Following Sister Wiederkehr’s advice, I will wait for God, read God’s word, spend time listening to what was written with an obedient heart, pray through where God is leading me, and finally abide in the midst of the jumble. With God’s blessing the word of God expressed in my life will join in the dance of poetry found within the scriptures. Together it is my prayer that I will join in the great proclamation of God’s love and compassion.