Sharing our stories

Sharing our stories

In this time of physical distance and sheltering in place, one of the things I miss most is sharing our lives and our stories.

Last week, when I spoke with Peter Hobson about the amazing connections and the much-needed gift of masks his daughter Deborah is sharing with the Navajo Nation, his pride was palpable.  I wanted to share this joy with him.  When Joyce Cummings shared one morning at prayer about transforming her garage into a space that maintains a safe distance with others in order to enjoy tea with friends and brunch with family, I wanted to join with her in celebrating the creative way she is keeping connections.  When Brian Rogers planted heart-shaped flowers in one of the Church garden beds, I want to be digging in the dirt right alongside him while listening to his plans to care for those who continue to struggle with being housed.

A friend of mine, Hope, loves to spend her time traveling.  She is a seriously committed traveler and has only a handful of countries to go before literally having traveled the world.  Hope is also a nurse at the West Roxbury Veterans Hospital.  This pandemic has hit her hard; all her plans to finish her “bucket list of travel” have been canceled.  She is finding it hard (really hard to shelter in place).  However, on Monday, Memorial Day, she sent me this note:  Happy Memorial Day! I hope you have a chance to rest today. Having your life on hold is exhausting.  I spent part of my night sitting with a 90 something WWII vet who is married to a holocaust survivor. He was confused and forgetful, but he *didn’t* have COVID because my floor was half way converted back last week. He kept saying: well, I’ll have to get used to this but at least I have Hope! This pandemic has really driven home how important every life and every story is. No matter how old or immunocompromised or immobile my patients have been, I’m grateful for my work, grateful for my patients, who are each a fascinating jewel of individual experience and history.  

Friends, we all have many stories to share — extraordinary stories about where we have been, the insights we have gained, the relationships we have nurtured.  And … we have regular, everyday stories about that time we were all sheltering in place and the world challenged us to live differently.  We all have stories that we long to share and that others in our community want to hear.  In celebration of Pentecost, when a group of people who didn’t speak the same language and didn’t have the same faith, joined together in a single dynamic experience of God’s Spirit and discovered the essence of the church, which is unity not uniformity, diversity not division, let’s reach out to one another and share our stories, share our lives and remember that our God who loves us without condition and without end binds us together in a story bigger and better than anything we could imagine.  Definitely something to share!

“See” you at church on the screen!
Hope

All shall be well

All shall be well

Last Sunday, I mentioned Dame Julian of Norwich who was a 14th century anchorite in England.  This week, the Church celebrated her feast day (May 8 or May 13 depending on your community) and Jessica mentions her in the Time for the Child in All of Us for our worship this week.

What makes Julian so remarkable?

Having lived through the plague and the 100 years war, Julian could probably commiserate with what we are going through.  She understood living in isolation; although hers was a chosen devotion.  She also knew about the struggle to know, to find and to understand God’s love in all times, all places and all conditions.

In seminary, when I first read her Revelations of Divine Love, I was drawn by the way Julian talked about God as Love and how she counseled one and all to forgive self, to not live in guilt but to revel in grace.  T.S. Eliot picked up one of her famous lines about God’s sustaining love and grace in his set of poems called The Four Quartets.  He quotes Julian’s comforting words saying, “All shall be well.  And all shall be well.  And all manner of thing shall be well.”

As week nine of home school draws to a close and I wonder if I will make it another six weeks (or if my children will), I cling to these words.  Remembering that God is with me and that God loves me even when I am more than frustrated by lessons and Zoom sessions and isolation; knowing that all will be well and all manner of thing will be well, keeps me going, keeps me prayerful, but most of all challenges me to be gracious and gentle with myself and the little ones … because all really is well.

By the way, whenever Julian is pictured, she is always shown with a cat!  I find that comforting too.

“See” you on Sunday,
Hope

Neighbors

Neighbors

One of my favorite theologian-practitioners, Mr. Fred Rogers, once said, “All of us, at some time or other, need help.  Whether we’re giving or receiving help, each one of us has something valuable to bring to this world.  That’s one of the things that connects us as neighbors — in our own way, each one of us is a giver and a receiver.”

There is so much truth in these words.  In this season of Easter, the Crawford Community has been both, givers and receivers.  Through connecting with our neighbors in Chelsea at Nueva Vida United Methodist Church, we were both:  we were able to share our abundance and we received the faithfulness and love.

Pam and Laura met with Pastor Mirna Concepcion de Rodriguez via Zoom about this gift.  At the end she offered this prayer.  In this, we are witnesses to the blessing of God both for our Crawford Community and for Nueva Vida UMC.  In this, friends, we are witnesses once more of Easter’s gifts of abundant grace, restored life and generous love.

“See” you on Sunday,
Hope

The Good Shepherd

The Good Shepherd

This Sunday, the fourth Sunday of Easter, is known as Good Shepherd Sunday.  It is the day that we hear the Psalm most of us know by heart, the 23rd Psalm, as well as the text from John’s Gospel in which Jesus reminds us that he is our shepherd and the sheep (that would be us) recognize his voice. He calls his sheep by name.  He leads us and we follow because we know his voice.

In these days of staying at home, I find comfort in knowing that God in Jesus is still calling me to follow God out of the gate and into the world.  Some of the ways I recognize God’s voice is in you.

I hear God in Keiko, despite the circumstances, sharing the gift others need and we can provide of Blessing Bags with people who were once strangers but can now be called acquaintances (if not friends).

I hear God in Jessica’s grief over the loss of one of her friends and professors who died from COVID-19.

I hear God in the celebration of birthdays with friends who drive by to sing “Happy Birthday” and who leave birthday blessing signs in front yards.

I hear God in the reverent prayers of our friends and neighbors for those who are sick and those who care for them.

It seems like the resounding message these days is that God is still with us, right where we are ….in physically distant lines at the grocery, in Zoom calls with family, in tea parties with 6 year-olds who are delighted to host and so sad they cannot be together in person.

As we approach the fourth Sunday of Easter, we are reminded that we are God’s people, the sheep of God’s fold, lambs of God’s flock, the ones of God’s own redeeming, even here, even now.

For this, for God, for you, I am grateful.

“See” you on Sunday,
Hope

Warmth, Radiance and Hope

Warmth, Radiance and Hope

Who saw the incredible light on Tuesday night after the rain?  Gilding the sky with warmth, radiance and hope, the light was a sight to behold.

Each day, I try to spend time outside and whenever I do, I experience hope and grace. To notice the flowers in bloom, the budding trees, the fox free to roam, I find peace and light.  When I cannot get outside, I struggle to find the same freedom, and struggle to appreciate the gifts of creation, the gifts of God all around me.

If nature inspires me, what inspires you?  Where in the midst of this pandemic are you finding hope and light, peace and grace?  Where are you seeing and experiencing God?

It is a lot to hold.  There so much change that it is hard to take all of it in.  It is even harder to stay at home and “do nothing.”  But when we take a moment and notice, we may find that in our prayer, in our nothing, there is life and light and God.

To share this experience with others, would you send me a note or a picture or a story about where you have seen and found God in the last six weeks?  I would love to share this with others, spread a little hope and share even more of God-with-us in it all.

In honor of the 50th anniversary of Earth Day and the gift that creation is to me, here is a prayer:

Let us pray …

for trees, plants, crops, and forests
for water, oceans, rivers, streams and ponds
for air, wind, climate and weather
for sun, clean energy and the reversal of global warning
for animals, especially endangered species
for humanity learning new ways of being in the world
for recycling and consciously limiting our personal consumption
for proper use of chemicals and disposal of toxic waste
for the gift of your Earth and unity among your children

Life-giving God, we thank you for the gift of creation. We ask your forgiveness where we have failed to be just stewards. And we now ask for your guidance in restoring the Earth. May we learn to live in harmony, safety and justice.  May we graciously grow in sharing resources among all so that we become more fully your kindom here on Earth. Amen.

“See” you on Sunday,
Hope

Beethoven’s Ninth

Beethoven’s Ninth

From Hope’s friend David:

Years ago, the Seattle Symphony was doing Beethoven’s Ninth under the baton of Milton Katims. At this point, you must understand two things: 

  1. There’s a long segment in this symphony where the bass violins don’t have a thing to do. Nothing. Not a single note for page after page 
  1. There used to be a tavern called Dez’s 400 right across the street from the Seattle Opera House, favored by local musicians. 

It was decided that during this performance, after the bass players had played their parts they’d quietly lay down their instruments and leave the stage rather than sit on their stools looking (and feeling) dumb for twenty minutes. 

Well, once they got backstage, someone suggested that they trot across the street and have a few brews. After they had downed the first couple rounds, one said, “Shouldn’t we be getting back? It’d be awfully embarrassing if we were late.” 

Another, presumably the one who suggested this excursion in the first place, replied, “Oh, I anticipated we could use a little more time, so I tied a string around the last pages of the conductor’s score. When he gets down to there, Milton’s going to have to slow the tempo way down while he waves the baton with one hand and fumbles with the string with the other.” 

So they had another round and finally returned to the Opera House, a little tipsy by now. However, as they came back on stage, one look at their conductor’s face told them they were in serious trouble. Katims was furious! And why not? After all (get ready, here it comes)… 

It was the bottom of the Ninth, the score was tied, and the basses were loaded. 

If you liked this joke, then you will love the worship service on Sunday.  Taking up our Eastern Orthodox Christian siblings liturgical designation for the Second Sunday of Easter as Bright Sunday or Holy Humor Sunday, we will celebrate risus paschalis (the Easter laugh) that acknowledges that Easter was God’s supreme joke played on death.  So this Sunday is a time for us to tell jokes and to have fun at church!

Which reminds me … You can either have a nice day or you can help your child with their math homework.  You can’t have both.  — Coronalations 3:30

“See” you on Sunday,
Hope