I am not the most artistic person in the world. My wife on the other hand is a gifted artist, having made her first career as a medical illustrator. We are both enrolled in a class at our church where we are making personal glass mosaics in the theme of Bountiful Abundance. Here are our two designs
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Her Tree of Life is truly impressive and has taken hours and hours to construct. She carefully chose and cut each piece and assembled it into a beautiful portrayal of nature’s bounty.
I on the other hand went with the scraps and shrapnel of former artists’ cast offs, picking and choosing pieces that I could arrange to form my image – The Spiral of Life. Mine will take a lot of forgiving grout to finish up.
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Last Tuesday I invited readers to join me in testing out a new online tool from the American Bible Society. Called DayPack, this free tool makes it easy for churches to schedule a week’s worth of daily Biblical passages to be sent by text message. Congregational leaders can select which Bible translation they wish to use, choose the Bible passages they want to send, name the “pack”, and register. Those who wish to participate will then receive the scheduled Bible passage for the day of the week for seven days.
As a trial run, I went ahead and scheduled seven Biblical passages that focused on the theme of gratitude. In keeping with the instructions, I then texted the word “thanks” to 347-462-0258 and waited to receive my first text. And then I waited, waited again, and waited some more...
Two days later I contacted the developers of DayPack at the American Bible Society to find out what was going on. I learned the following:
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I use my iPhone a lot: to take notes, for directions, to record interviews, to keep track of my calendar, communicate with friends and family, take pictures, and, of course, to Tweet. It seems like an essential part of my life (whether or not that’s a good thing is another question), though I did just fine without it up until a few years ago.
Technology has a way of creating a demand for itself. I may have wished I had a map with me all the time when I first moved to New York, or occasionally wished I had a portable phone before I got my cell phone in college, but I didn’t give it much thought.
I think the church can learn from the way the iPhone and other technology meet a need we didn’t know was there. There was a time during which no one needed to be convinced that they should go to church. It was something everyone did and felt was good for them. No one would have thought to question that they needed to go to church.
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Before going to seminary, I had the privilege of working for CARE, the international relief and development organization. This is the organization that created the original CARE Package that Americans sent to Europe and Asia after World War II. My work as a major gifts fundraiser was to connect the hopes and dreams of the donor to the mission and work of the organization. Breaking the cycle of poverty for families in the developing world was common cause.
When visiting CARE projects in rural villages, specifically in certain places in Asia children would gather around us and take our hand and place it on the top of their heads. When we asked a member of the CARE staff what that meant, she told us: “They are asking for a blessing-- they want you to bless them.”
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Our season of Bountiful Abundance for our church school began with a Creation Day where 70 children and adults each created a personal mosaic. It was an amazing undertaking and took our artist-in-residence and our children’s program director’s coordinated efforts to pull off in just 45 minutes. It was a glorious tornado of creativity.
At St. Andrew’s we have used the arts on many occasions to generate program and build community. We are perhaps best known for our work in Stained Glass, having created four sets of 12 windows each. The sets are changed out seasonally, one for Advent/Christmas/Epiphany, a Stations of the Cross set for Lent, A Stations of the Resurrection set for Easter and then a series with stories from the Gospels for the long Pentecost Season.
In 2007 we took on the construction of our North Wall Window, a major project. Twenty six teams created individual panels that were assembled in a framework, creating the 30 foot window that has become the centerpiece of our sanctuary.
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For many of us, fall means football: College games on Saturdays and the pros on Sundays. Television commentators dissect every aspect of every game, with coaches and players each getting their fair share of attention.
Recognizing the impact good coaching can have on a team’s performance, this month ECF Vital Practices invited faith leaders experienced in cultivating generosity to serve as coaches for congregational leaders interested in building a deeper relationship between faith in God and giving.
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I have friends who are quite passionate about grammar. I was reminded of this last week, when I was copyediting an essay and, in a moment of frustration, I posted something about the
emdash on Facebook. I received an immediate response from a flurry of grammar-loving friends. I care about sentence construction and can diagram a sentence pretty well, but I know people who take pleasure in knowing the ins and outs of the Chicago Manual of style. I am not one of those people, but I am glad they exist.
In some ways, these grammar-advocate friends of mine reminded me of my friends who are liturgists, who know the rubrics in the prayer book by heart and can name all the linens. These rubrics and the canons are a little like punctuation, helping us make sense of the liturgy, giving us guidelines for doing it well. We should trust them, and we should think hard before we break them.
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Therefore we praise you, joining our voices with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven, who for ever sing this hymn to proclaim the glory of your Name… [The Book of Common Prayer, pg.362]
It never gets old, does it?
I arrived in the Episcopal Church 18 years ago this season and I still remember my fumbling attempts to master the Sanctus. It’s tricky. If I tried to get the hang of the tune, the words passed me by. If I focused on praying the words, the music messed me up. I loved the idea of the liturgy; I just couldn’t get the hang of doing it. I struggled to be present in its beauty.
My relationship with the Sanctus changed in a twinkling, during a sermon on the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels. The Anglican celebrant put the question to us: If you knew right now that you would to spend all of eternity in the company of heaven, surrounding the throne, singing praise without pause or ceasing, would you dread the boredom or would you anticipate the joy?
Well that’s a no-brainer. But what a question! What wonderful images it brings to mind, what wonderful dimension it brings to how I experience the Sanctus in the larger context of Holy Eucharist.
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Listen delightedly.
In a two-day retreat for women, the leader has invited us to listen delightedly. The focus of the retreat is story -- the ways that story can connect us, inspire new thoughts, encourage creative responses, and build relationships.
One exercise immediately seemed a prime candidate for adoption at our staff and vestry meetings. In pairs, we had two minutes to answer a short prompt. In this example, the topic was simple: tell a story about our name.
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The last time I went on a spiritual retreat, jam boxes blared Journey, and we traveled by Shake-n-Bake, a beloved bus aptly named for its lack of shocks and air conditioning.
Getting in touch with my soul was, in many ways, easier in the midst of teenage angst, between the gnashing of teeth with my parents and trying to figure out who I was despite the swirl of hormones and peer pressure.
As an adult, I have two kids with horseback lessons and Taekwondo, a husband, laundry, mortgage, car payments, spaghetti suppers, and VBS. And, oh yeah, a job.
I am too busy for a retreat.
And yet. Turns out that when you think that, it’s time for a break.
September 17 marks the one-year anniversary of Occupy Wall Street. Working as I do near New York’s financial district and across from Wall Street, it’s impossible to ignore the people that have gathered in the parks or occasionally march down the street.
Likewise, in the middle of election season, we have to work pretty hard to ignore politics in our communities. Not too much different than walking through a protest march pretending it’s not there.
Though I fully support the separation of church and state, I don’t believe we should avoid politics in our church communities. I think that our values – those of love your neighbor as yourself, and care for the poor – should inform how we vote, and how we approach politics. I don’t want to argue that Jesus was a Democrat or a Republican, or that Jesus would march with Occupy Wall Street. What I do think is that ignoring politics completely abdicates our responsibility as citizens and as Christians who should be considering how policies affect others and the earth God has given us.
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Last Wednesday I participated in a discussion about Soren Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling with other members of my church. Kierkegaard is writing about the question, “What is faith?” It’s a big question. Thanks to a knowledgeable group leader, we were able to sort through some of the difficult ideas in the book, and have a lively discussion.
Kierkegaard felt it was an important to not take anything for granted. In a time when the structures of faith are somewhat tenuous, our communities and families are increasingly scattered, and we are constantly exposed to new ideas and ways of living, it’s still important to ask these fundamental questions: not just what does this passage of scripture mean, but why do we believe scripture is the word of God? What is faith?
Theological reflection is something that most us spend little time doing. As the new program year starts up for churches around the country, it’s important to make time for discussions that ask the big questions.
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Champagne and midnight kisses may start the calendar, but in our house, the year really begins with the first day of school.
This time is rife with tradition for us. We have, of course, the crisp pages of new notebooks, the stiffness of a fresh-off-the-shelf backpack. The lunches are packed with wide variety, all their favorites, a day they can remember when in October the baggies are filled with whatever is left in the pantry because we haven’t been to the grocery store in two weeks.
Our daughter performed a fashion show, gauging which outfit to elevate to first-day apparel based on our appreciative claps. Our son pulled on a T-shirt, checked to see if there were any holes or major stains, and headed out to breakfast.
Since they started preschool, we have added our own household tradition of decorating the walls and halls with signs and crepe paper. These aren’t fancy, store-bought signs – just the result of my labors with Crayola markers and scotch tape. “Happy first day” in block letters. #1 Highland Bluebirds. We’re proud of you. We love you.
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I’m packing our bags.
This weekend, half of the church is heading to the diocesan conference center for retreat. Since this is our first time, we have had lots of recommendations for packing: Sturdy shoes for hiking, bathing suits for swimming, coolers for refreshments (adult and non-adult options).
There’s no set agenda for the weekend. Some might spend the time exploring the mountains deep in Kentucky. Spelunking might be in order too, with curious souls checking out the caves – and bats. Others might find a shady spot and a hammock, perfect for reading a book or sky watching. Each morning and evening, we’ll gather for prayer, and each afternoon, we’ll enjoy another Episcopal tradition of happy hour.
More than 100 people have signed up to spend a weekend in cabins mostly air conditioned by nature, to wear flip slops while showering, and to sleep on inch-thick mattresses on a top or bottom bunk. For our congregation, the 110 people represent about half of Sunday morning attendance.
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You remembered.
That’s what I thought when a co-worker brought up the flowers. It was my tenth anniversary working for the diocese, and my sweet husband remembered. This anniversary isn’t mentioned in Hallmark. There’s no indication for paper or glass or diamonds on a tenth anniversary of working in one place. But to me, it was a milestone.
And he remembered.
We should spend a lot of time remembering. This is not about living in the past but celebrating and honoring important moments that have shaped us, collectively and individually. It matters to people to be thought of on special days in their lives. We are a relational people, and we want in a deep and abiding way to be remembered.
I offer two easy ways for churches to incorporate remembering into the daily practice.
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I spent a lot of time this past weekend eating. A few of my college friends were in town, and we spent hours sitting around Moroccan food or pasta. This is how we got to know each other years ago in college: long hours of conversation around cafeteria tables and eating at Thai and Tex-Mex restaurants on the weekends.
Gathering around a table has always been effective way of building community. It’s one of the few times we put away our smart phones and stay still for awhile, at least long enough to nourish ourselves.
As I have mentioned before, it’s also the part of the weekly practice at St. Lydia’s, the church I attend on Sunday evenings. We sit at a table and share a meal that we have made together. I have gotten to know the other members of my community faster than I might have if we did not intentionally spend this time together.
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The Quakers have a wonderful marriage tradition that my husband and I borrowed for our wedding nearly 15 years ago.
States require the signatures of a couple of witnesses on the official marriage certificate. But in the Quaker tradition, everyone who attends signs another certificate as a witness to their presence and support for the marriage. This one isn't legally binding, but it's community building, a reminder that marriage, like other commitments, doesn’t happen in a isolation. It happens within community.
Our church celebrated a baptism on Sunday. Since we are still new to the congregation, we’re learning their customs. I was delighted to be introduced to a new one.
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God of faithful surprises, throughout the ages you have made known your love and power in unexpected ways and places. May we daily perceive the joy and wonder of your abiding presence and offer our lives in gratitude for our redemption. Amen[i]
I love watching David dance! In just 10½ verses, the writer of 2 Samuel tells us three times that “David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with song and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals.” And the party didn’t stop there! We see not just dancing, but sacrifice…burnt offering…shouting and the sound of trumpets…blessings….and a distribution of food.
David was overwhelmed with joy at being in the presence of the Ark of the Covenant. For him to bring it up from the house of Abinadab to the City of David, to Jerusalem, filled him with such a presence of spirit that his mortal body couldn’t contain it. Every limb, every cell of his being, rejoiced at the presence of the Lord. He simply had to dance.
The thing I love about David is that he allows himself this joy. He doesn’t hide behind the decorum of the court, the status of his office as King. He doesn’t worry about embarrassing tabloid headlines or lurking paparazzi. He lets it happen. And in doing so, he shows himself to be a true leader, setting the best example possible for the faithful of Israel—be joyful in the presence of the Lord! Enter his gates with singing, his courts with praise!
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Communication is ministry. General Convention said so.
In a resolution passed by both the House of Deputies and the House of Bishops, General Convention put into the record that communications is an essential ministry.
Resolution A024 says that communications “enables and empowers evangelism, congregational development, the building of community, and mission at the Churchwide, diocesan, and congregational levels.” It continues, saying there should be a trained communications person in each diocese and ongoing training in communications for all congregations. There should be a sensitivity to multilingual and multicultural contexts. And, so says the resolution, communications should be adequately funded to meet the needs of mission and ministry as defined by the diocese.
There. No more worries about communications being cut off at the knees. Right?
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We have begun to receive resumes for our next Director of Children and Youth Ministries. It made me think back to my own experience as a kid in Sunday School.
I was confirmed in 1967 as a seventh-grader at William Street United Methodist Church in Delaware, Ohio. At that time I had already spent 13 years at the church and I have many tender memories of my time at “Bill Street.”
My earliest memory was being issued my yellow cherub choir robe in 1960 and then singing at the early and later Easter service. All the choirs were served a wonderful breakfast between services and I was left with my first strong sense of being a minister of the church. I still remember how wonderful that egg casserole tasted.
An embarrassing memory was walking in on Mrs. Peterle in the second-floor restroom in the old house that served as our education wing. I still cringe with abject mortification at the thought.
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