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In This Moment
If Paul Had Email
Email has become the easiest, fastest way to communicate with loved ones at a distance, and busy colleagues ten feet away. What did we do before email?
Before email we talked to each other and we wrote things down, two sources that created our oral and written histories. While email is a brilliant solution to many communication problems, this technology does have its limitations. A friend who happens to be a church historian posed one of those problems several years back: What are we losing in personal connectedness, and historical records of relationships, documented in electronic missives that are routinely evaporated with a click on the delete button?
What would have happened to the gospels if Matthew, Mark, Luke or John had had access to high speed internet email? People may have received the message more quickly, but would anyone have felt the need to save these words on their PC before moving onto the next message advertising a good deal on sacrificial animals down at that little shop outside the temple? What would we know of the epistles, the letters Paul wrote to the churches of Corinth, Rome, Galatia and Ephesus, and his colleagues Timothy and Titus? Would a church secretary or office administrator have glanced over them, forwarded them to the appropriate parties and then hit the delete button as well? Would we know these congregations and their lessons of faithful community building in the same way, or at all, if Paul had booted up his computer and dashed off a quick email or two?
My gratitude for the consideration of time and thought with which these Biblical texts came to us extends back to these words from Psalm 102:8: "Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet unborn may praise the Lord." I am grateful because memory and memories fade over time, and are reshaped by this dimming light, if we do not record events as they occur, or soon after. I am grateful because writing a letter is a different process than emailing. Emailing is quick, easy and can include up-to-the-minute details. That is its hallmark. Letters produced by hand are time consuming, somewhat laborious and not particularly efficient. But letters do create a framework around paying attention to the details at hand, and in heart and faith. There is time to consider the ingredients individually, and as a rich, synergistic blend. I am grateful for this legacy carried out from the Psalmist, to Paul, to us, because without it, we would not know nearly as much as we do about Paul as a leader in the early years of our faith, or about the communities of faith our of which our own have grown.
So, what do future generations have to rely on as their legacy from us? Email is here to stay, as well it should. It is a generous advantage of our modern world. But how do we want to make sure we do not break this ancient connection to our modern faith legacy? We have a responsibility to carry our faith forward, embodied in a way on which the next generation may build on as well.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
Photographs and Legacies
My mother has begun to trust me with the care of family heirlooms.
A promised sweater arrived last week nestled around a cut crystal vase from her own mother. The sweater was a belated birthday gift hand knit for me, but the vase was something she had held in trust until the time was right.
Some old family photographs had been sent several years earlier, a number of them more than eighty years old, opening the door to a world that is still at a distance and out of focus for me. The pictures presented a lineage of the women of the family I had never met and about whom I had heard very few stories. Relying on the photographs themselves, and the few reference notes my mother had jotted on the back of each print, I approached each woman in turn and tried to say my hellos and introduce myself.
Each woman, from Grandma Clara to Great Grandma Consuela to Great Great Grandma Mills faced the camera directly, smiling broadly with sparkling eyes. Vintage clothing and cars, old-style buildings and dirt roads as backdrops didn't seem foreign or out of place as we began to get to know each other. One picture, of Great Great Grandma Mills, showed her in the middle of a prairie landscape, a breeze blowing her ankle-length dress and apron as if she had just finished a fervently good twirl. She is laughing, this pioneer prairie woman who I resemble so much. These women, who have long since passed on, are a part of me, and I am a part of them, even though we never knew each other. I feel a sense of longing, as if it is still possible, to find a way to the homes they made, to share a conversation with them over tea or coffee and a fresh homemade cookie. I also feel a responsibility to make sure they are not forgotten in how I tend to my own life, what I will pass on to the people who come after me.
I feel this same longing as I read through the eleventh chapter of Hebrews, the chapter which begins, "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Although we have no pictures of these Biblical people, the unknown author of Hebrews goes on to talk about our faith legacy and who has carried it before us. Some pretty big names are featured: Abraham, Sarah, Abel, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph and Moses. And for every celebrity whose name made the cut, there are countless others who each contributed to what our generation of believers will pass on to the next.
With these, as with my grandmas, I would like to know what crossed their minds at sunset in the wilderness of the desert and the desolate frontier prairie of Minnesota and North Dakota. What were their hopes and dreams, what gave them peace at night as they laid their heads down to sleep? What gave them strength enough to get up, get moving and face the day?
For these well-known and unknown people of faith who have preceded us, I believe it was their faith that settled their souls at night and roused them again each morning What stories I do have for these faces in front of me center on their faith and their lively spirits. The combination makes me smile, as does the reality that they also knew the stories of Abraham, Sarah, Abel, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph and Moses. We share a connection in our faith, even though we are generations apart. More than a connection, their faith has been handed down as a legacy to me as surely as the cut crystal vase.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
Who Are The Homeless?
Stories of generous support to the victims hit hardest by Hurricane Katrina's fury, those who have literally lost everything, including their homes, are being shared in news reports and articles across the United States and around the world. From merchandise gift cards to new jobs to open doors to new homes, we have shown ourselves to be a nation ready to care for each other in times of need.
But there are many more homeless people in need of support who will never be heard, let alone helped with offerings of clothing, food or shelter. These are the homeless poor who lived among us before Katrina hit, and who still reside among us today.
An article in my local newspaper raised this issue, that we as a nation are very good at rising to the occasion to help in a crisis. Our own instincts for survival couple with strong feelings of compassion to create the outpouring of financial and humanitarian aid that we are witnessing. But on a day-to-day basis, we become complacent, focused on our own needs and desires because we feel we cannot impact the problems of poverty or homelessness in any significant way.
Perhaps we also do not feel the reality of what it truly means to be homeless, particularly due to circumstances that are not so readily apparent as a natural disaster. We understand crisis, a split-second shift in time in which our lives are permanently converted. But to simply not have the same place to come back to each day after school, or each evening after work, is not a tangible concept for most of us, and it makes us very uncomfortable to consider. Rather than explore the fear, desperation or loneliness of that experience, we blame the homeless for putting themselves in the position in which they find themselves. A thought from a book by Jack London that I read as a child sticks with me, that someone who is warm cannot understand someone who is cold. I suspect it is partly because we fear the cold ourselves in one form or another.
Another consideration, for ourselves, is how much we feel at home in our own faith. Is your faith something you come home to every day, attend to its upkeep and care, do repair work when necessary? Do you use all the rooms, welcome friends and family in to share the hospitality? Are you grateful for its presence in your life, for its shelter, warmth and security? Or do you assume it will always be there when you come back to it, regardless of how you choose to treat it? Faith is like a house in that, if you ignore it, it will eventually deteriorate to the point that it will go away. Spiritual homelessness can leave a pretty big pit of desperation in the bottom of our stomachs too. We may not clearly remember how we got there, but we know we don't want to stay, and we aren't always sure how to move ourselves out.
Hence the Christian belief of doing to others as we would like someone to do for us. Hence the second great commandment to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Perhaps we can learn not to be so harsh with ourselves when we fall. In so doing we may also learn to not blame others for where they stand, but be willing to extend a hand to help them up. Yes, the poor and the homeless will always be with us. And that is the point. They are with us, not for us or against us, but a part of us. Mercy and grace, love and kindness are not crisis supplements, but ongoing staples in the pantry of faith. God is in charge of restocking these, so, have no fear. The pantry is full. We can each use as much as we need or want.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
Advent Calendar Revisited
Do you recognize the signs that Christmas is already on its way? Sure you do. Children are back in school, the Halloween candy and costumes are on display, and very soon, the holiday decorations will be nudging their way into every nook and cranny of your favorite stores. My L.L. Bean catalogue arrived yesterday with the suggestion to, "Wrap up your holiday shopping early with the best possible gifts at the best possible prices."
These, of course, aren't the only signs of Christmas, but they are our most visual, and if honest with ourselves, are representative of what our culture has narrowed the season down to: presents. It has been said that the love of money is the root of all evil. The same could be said for the fear of not buying presents for everybody in our lives. Neither money or presents are evil, but focusing all our attention or life's purpose on acquiring either or both, does distort our faith perspective and view of the world.
That said, retailers, in their aspiration to achieve increased profits, have really done us a favor: they have redefined the Advent Calendar.
Did you have an Advent Calendar as a child? Or perhaps you have one for your children now. Most Advent Calendars are made of cardboard and are filled with small flaps that are raised, one per day of Advent, to reveal a picture or a scene related to Christmas. Some are much more elaborate, but the idea is the same. each day brings us closer to the arrival of Christ's coming, and each day we prepare our hearts and our lives to receive this most special of gifts from God.
What retailers have done for us is to expand and extend this Advent Calendar. Although their motive is profit, our intent, as people of faith, can be self-defined as an opportunity to prepare more peacefully and more fully for this season that is meant to be joyful, and frequently is not. This mental adjustment may take some though, but bear with me.
How many times have you wished, in the middle of December, for the chance to sit down, relax for a few moments with a cup of tea, and breathe, perhaps remembering a favorite Christmas experience and the pleasure it still brings to your life? Have you wanted to be more leisurely in choosing gifts for your loved ones, but never took the time because it wasn't really the season yet? Have you hoped for quality time with your family, a real meal together without interruptions and distractions and so much tension all you do is get irritated with one another? All of those wishes, dreams and hopes can be transformed into reality, now, because the main thing to remember about Advent is that it is our preparatory time before the Christ arrives.
There is absolutely nothing wrong, and everything right about giving ourselves permission to enjoy the luxuries of pondering Emmanuel, God With Us, and preparing ourselves to receive God again before the traditional Advent Calendar takes hold of our schedules. I suspect we would all feel better about the swift onslaught of the holiday activities if we felt we had honored the relationship with God that sparked the whole process in the first place.
With this in mind, I share with you my favorite Christmas card message: "Wishing you all the joys of this shining season as we welcome Christmas once again."
Until next time, God's blessings.
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In This Moment
The Diaspora Soul of the City of New Orleans
News coverage continues regarding the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, albeit much more hopeful than even a week ago.
While supplies and volunteers move into the regions of Mississippi and Louisiana in need of support, the residents of New Orleans are being dispersed across the country, literally, to wherever open arms are ready to receive them. Texas, Minnesota, California, Ohio, Tennessee, New York and Rhode Island are only a few of the states which will be hearing the sweet Southern drawl of a weary people who cannot go home. They, quite literally, now must walk by faith, and trust that we who are caring for them are living by ours. The United States and the world have responded generously to give shelter and strength to people who are bereft of the former, and drained of the latter. We care enough to share our resources, material and emotional, with people who mostly ache for home, something we cannot provide in the way that they have identified it their whole lives.
Acclaimed actor Morgan Freeman addressed this issue with Charlie Rose of PBS earlier this week. Referencing his childhood sense of safety in his hometown in the state of Mississippi, rekindled as he visited his aging parents in the late 1970's, Mr. Freeman decided to return home permanently. He spoke intently of how he really had a whole village raise him, and that it really took a village. As a native Southerner, and having come to this public venue to continue to draw attention to hurricane relief, Mr. Rose directed the conversation to the recovery and rebuilding of the city of New Orleans. A deep stillness came across Mr. Freeman's face as he said, "If it can be." Mr. Freeman went on to say, with a deeply felt knowing in his voice, that it was important to remember that it is people's souls that create a village, a community.
So the equally important question we must now ask ourselves is, as did Mr. Freeman in this interview, how is it with the souls of the people of New Orleans? With the City of New Orleans now living in diaspora, we who are not displaced from our homes are entrusted with more than physical maintenance. We have accepted a new calling, a new vocation, that of caretaker of souls. With mercy, tenderness and grace, we are now in the position to welcome our fellow villagers into our homes, but we must also realize that we are being welcomed into their homes. We will learn, meal by meal, conversation by conversation, story by story, and hope by hope, what it means to be a New Orleanian, to celebrate that rich history, to be privy to its intimate pleasures and passions. We have been given both the great luxury, and the obligation, to experience New Orleans through the souls of its people.
As days go by, and months and years, and the city comes back to itself, it will be through the people that the true nature of the city will be revived. When this time comes, know also that our histories will be interwoven in the oral history of this city. Even now we are more than caretakers of the soul of New Orleans. We
are part of the soul of the City of New Orleans itself.
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In This Moment
You Don't See Many Chickens in Clearance
Retailers are not always perfect judges of what will sell in any given location or during a particular season. Seeing literal truckloads of new merchandise arrive on a regular basis as a store manager, I caught myself wondering what the buyers were thinking on more than one occasion. The ceramic monkey candleholders are a good example. The daily joke in one store was another store's best seller. The silver plated cigar holders tarnished three times over and were reduced to a dollar before they sold because they predated the cigar smoking craze. Worst were the masses of candles that hung around so long, dented and dusty, that they lost their scent. All of the above, and multitudes of unnamed souls, ended up in clearance.
But chickens are another story.
Walk through almost any home interiors or decorating store and you are bound to discover a whole separate division dedicated to chicken-themed merchandise. Even if you are not a decorative chicken aficionado, take a peek at what the human imagination can make of one small bird. There are chicken statues in all shapes and sizes, some standing alone in a relatively natural-looking state, some gathered together in small groups, destined to spend eternity dressed as human beings from the 19th century. There are chicken bookends, door stops and dinnerware. Dishtowels, vacuum cleaner covers and tablecloths all have their place at chickenland central. Do you own a set of chicken salt and pepper shakers? Does your friend have a piece of chicken serveware? Chances are good that either you or at least one or two of your friends have brought home a buddy from the piles and miles of product available in this motif. Because, as my friend who still works as a retail manager pointed out, "You don't see many chickens in clearance."
After pondering that bit of wisdom for awhile, my mind moved on to considering where we place value in our culture, and how interesting it is that we value chickens as a decorative tool in our homes. Further along in my thought process, I recalled all the parables Jesus told to help the disciples, and the crowds that followed him from place to place, understand the concept of the kingdom of heaven. How do you convey something so vast and glorious, yet so poignantly real and available to a people all but crushed by the brutality of the Roman Empire? Jesus' answer was to wrap this beautiful jewel in stories that allowed its brightness to both shine, and be held dearly to their hearts. So, in one of those parables, Matthew's gospel tells us, "The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who in finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it." (Matthew 13:45-46)
Perhaps there is a connection to be made, and a new parable to write for our modern culture to grasp the idea of this thing called the kingdom of heaven. Perhaps the kingdom of heaven is like a woman in search of fine decorative chickens, who in finding one chicken of great value, went and sold all that she had and bought it. Perhaps there is no greater treasure. Perhaps that is why you don't see many chickens in clearance.
Until next time, God's blessings.
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New Article From Creating Women Ministries
Tell Me Again What I Said: Journaling Conversation
Do you know the old hymn, "I Love to Tell The Story?" It's a personal favorite, partly for the words and the melody, partly because I love stories. For me, stories are what make life interesting because they are about life in all its delicious, intricate detail. One of my mottos has been, "A story for everything and every story in its place." Approaching journaling your prayers, your conversation with God, is talking with God about your shared experience and then leaving some notes for yourself about the chat. Much like any shared experience, it is the stories that we tell each other about the experience that shape our memory, but also our understanding of the experience from new angles and perspectives.
Take, for example, the story of how I learned to ride my bike. Nothing unusual in going from training wheels to frustration without the training wheels, back to training wheels, and then, finally, freestyle sailing around the block, just as the Green Bay Packers clinched the Central Division Championship. That may not make much difference, or sense, to you, but it does to me, a Wisconsin native and daughter of a bike shop owner who also lovingly created my first bike out of spare parts, painted it blue and white to my specifications, and cheered when I ran inside to share my success.
Another story I love is how I met one of my best friends. We were both attending a youth convocation on the North Carolina shore in the middle of a hurricane. it was literally raining inside the bathroom in which we first said our hellos to each other. That first meeting was over twenty years ago. Now, whenever we go to visit each other we usually find each other in the bathroom closest to baggage claim.
You have these kinds of stories in your life. These two stories from my life would be more fully embellished if I had my mom or my friend adding their reflections to this page. Their perspectives would give you and me more information of these experiences. Neither are earth shattering events, but they are details, stitches that unite the quilt pieces into a beautifully patterned life.
Another way of considering this idea is to remember an event that quite literally was earth shattering or culturally defining. Where were you when John F. Kennedy was shot? What were you doing when you began to hear the news reports of the terrorist attacks on New York? What part of your holiday celebration was interrupted by news of the tsunami striking Indonesia? In a group of three or four people who had no connection to each other in November1963, September 2001 or December 2004, all their stories converge, add to the shared memory, and the shared experience. The conversation itself becomes an oral history that will be carried to the next time the subject comes up and the conversation includes any or all of these people.
There is only one step between oral history and documented history, and that is the action of writing instrument to paper. Journaling is the act of writing down a story you have lived or heard. Journaling your prayers is talking with God, and then retelling the conversation, the stories between you, in written form, an immediate letter defining with God the glorious details of life. The great gift of recalling a conversation with God is that God knows us each so well that we can just lay it all out there, any way we want to, and not worry that God won't understand. Grammar, syntax, semantics - none of it matters at all. What matters is telling your story, your understanding of the conversation of prayer you have had with God to God in your way. What is quite remarkable is that in doing so we come to understand ourselves, our own story and God's faithful journey with us more fully.
If you are concerned that, even moments later, you won't remember enough or have any idea what to write, take heart: God is on this journey with you, and God is faithfully a part of all the details. As you practice your prayer journaling more reflections, thoughts and connections will reveal themselves to you. Not only is God a part of the details, God is the details.
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In This Moment
Prayers for the People
Early news reports that indicated Hurricane Katrina had dodged New Orleans enough to avoid the worst were wrong.
The Gulf Coast is suffering today in ways that are unimaginable to any of us who have anything other than nothing. Reporters are unflinching in telling us the stories: no food or water for the people at the Superdome, who also must literally live with the dead because there is nowhere to take them; streets still flooded five days after the storm, and more water pouring in because the levees are collapsed; one block of hundreds of thousands of blocks comprised of shattered homes, cars and bodies yet to be discovered. Perhaps the most horrific picture is the broadening belief that no one cares enough to come help because there is no way to spread the news that help is coming.
Among all the horror, help is coming. There are emergency rooms being set up at the New Orleans airport. The streets of Biloxi, Mississippi, are beginning to be cleared with bulldozers. Some cell phone service is being restored so communication lines are opening up. One Texas city, willing to receive 25,000 refugees, has offered to now welcome 75,000 people. Tonight a concert on the NBC network will gather donations for the relief effort. Signs of hope are lighting the way to see over the horizon.
We can add to that light, even at a distance. As people of faith we can make a significant difference in people's lives on the Gulf Coast simply by continuing to live by what we believe.
First, we can contribute financially in whatever way we can and feel directed to do.
Second, we can continue to pay attention to the news, to know and to understand as much as possible about what is happening, and to see the relief efforts as they are impacting the devastated area. Every time someone is able to make this situation better than it was, God's will is being carried out in a dramatic, concrete way. In these acts, more hope and more of God's grace is revealed, and we must remember to be grateful and express that gratitude to God.
Third, we can pray. We must pray, for the residents, the relief workers and those who will follow to help rebuild. If we as a people of faith do nothing else, we must believe for the people of the Gulf Coast that, as the Gospel of John states, "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it."
Until next time, God's blessings.
