July 21, 2023
Everyone I speak with lately expresses the same sentiment: summer is moving by much too quickly. More so than usual, this year, it seems. It may be that summers in Minnesota are just so precious that we fill our calendars to the brim during the summer months. It may be that after three years of varying COVID caution, many of us are back up to full-speed schedules now, and realizing how busy that is! It may be a combination of both. In the end, of course, we have the same number of hours in a day or in a week during the summer as we do in the winter: it is only our perception of time that changes. But isn't it interesting to notice how very much perception feels like reality?
In Greek, the word for time is kairos. It doesn't mean the kind of time that is measured by a watch (or a phone) or a calendar. Kairos is God-time. It is a "to every thing there is a season" kind of time. It is a "all good things in all good time" kind of time. Kairos reminds me of a favorite quote from Thich Nhat Hanh:
To live in the present moment is a miracle.
The miracle is not to walk on water. The
miracle is to walk on the green earth in the
present moment, to appreciate the peace
and beauty that are available now.
It is all too easy to get wrapped up in schedules and planning and what-if-ing. It is all too easy to let days and weeks slip away in a blink. My prayer this week for all of us, myself included, is to take in the present moment as a miracle. We don't need to walk on water. Or fill our calendars to overflowing. We only need to breathe deeply and appreciate the peace and beauty that are available now. My prayer for us is to live in kairos time as much as we are able.
July 14, 2023
Your Vestry and I are gathering next week for a mid-Summer retreat. We will check in on the tangible goals we set at our first retreat of the year last winter, and on our "Dreams and Visions*", as we refer to the bigger picture wondering and planning and what-if-ing we do at every Vestry meeting. Planning this retreat with the wardens was joyful. As we tried to recap the last 6 months, we kept thinking of more and more things Saint Anne's has done, experienced, repaired, accomplished, and celebrated as a community in that time. We have:
signed a Letter of Intent with our solar company
set up plans to fill the cracks in our parking lot
installed new windows in the Narthex area
held a Spring Clean Up Day
with grief, we honored the lives of two dear Saint Annians who have gone on to greater glory
celebrated 1 confirmation (darn COVID keeping the other confirmand-to-be at home)
celebrated 5 baptisms
brought back Summer Stretch
brought back the Saint Anne's Campout
installed a bike rack
created Saint Anne's t-shirts
installed new wiring for sound in the sanctuary
became a Community Sponsor of WSP Pride
supported Garlough Elementary school's needs
held a clothing drive for From Me to We
held multiple food drives
held Snack Pack events for Open Door Pantry
donated money to local organizations
set a date for our 4th Annual Blood Drive
celebrated Luis's ordination to the diaconate
And in the midst of all of that, there were Sunday services and Tuesday morning Bible Studies and Lenten Wednesdays and Adult Ed. It has been a full, and largely joyful, 6 months. With more to come. As the Vestry prepares to gather next week to set new short term goals and continue our big picture dreaming, we'd love to hear from you. What are your Dreams and Visions for our community? You can email any ideas to me and they will be passed along.
My prayer for you is that you find nothing too big or too small or too wild or too simple or too out of reach to dream about. My prayer is for you to allow the vision of all we can be together as a community of Jesus-followers to fill your heart so full that you can't help but let it spill out in joy.
Blessings
July 7, 2023
Celebrating the great beauty and the fantastic breadth of humanity is one of the joys of life. Certainly one of the joys of being a person of faith is seeing a spark of the Divine in every person. One of the most joyful of our Baptismal promises in the Episcopal church is the promise to "seek and serve Christ in all people"...
What a gift it is, to be called to look for the beauty and good in others. And what better place to do that this Saturday than the West St. Paul Pride celebration?!
My prayer for you this week is for you to find joy in the great rainbow of humanity. To find a minute to celebrate the concept that our diversity is a reflection of the wideness of God. And to know that you are part of that rainbow, part of that wideness. Thanks be!
Come out on Saturday and look for some familiar faces at Saint Anne's table. I'll see you there!
June 30, 2023
I saw this graphic this week, and it made me smile. Immediately it made me think of the Peace & Justice meeting from last week, and all of the good this team of amazing people are doing quietly and behind the scenes. It then made me think of Saint Anne's Treasurer, Jeff Holland, and our Finance team, and all the good they do, quietly and behind the scenes. From there, I thought of our bread bakers (did you know know a team of people bake communion bread for each week's services?!) and Nancy, Karen, and the fantastic Altar Guild team.
It made me think of RaeKell and all she does for our kids, and then of our Jenny and Corinne, our Vestry liaisons for Children & Youth and the things they are planning behind the scenes. If we're talking about people who do things for children, Ramona has volunteered as our nursery helper for months and months, and speaking of behind the scenes, there's Carolyn, who has taken over behind the camera for our livestream services while Chris is away on paternity leave, and Andy who has wired us for sound with a professional touch. As I was in my office at church, thinking these happy thoughts about all of these amazing people, and feeling grateful, I looked out the window to see Dennis mowing the lawn, part of a team of volunteers that Jeff Hvass, who volunteers an incredible amount of time and energy himself, has gathered together for the summer. For yet more behind the scenes stuff...if you're reading this on Saint Anne's website, that's all thanks to Jon and the way he quietly and faithfully uploads these notes of mine each week.
There is danger in naming names, because there are so many who do so much. Our wardens and entire Vestry. Our Pastoral Care team. The Knitters. Barb, and the way she manages our birthday card ministry. Sandy, and her Funeral Care ministry. Patty and the Columbarium team. Doug and Denny, our Usher A Team. The Solar Committee. Our Bible Study group who gathers to break open Scripture together, and is so much more. Our Acolytes and Vergers and Readers. Those who send me kind emails and notes of support that always show up at just the right moment. There are those who are showing up for West St. Paul Pride next Saturday to share some love and joy with others, and those who come on Sunday mornings asking, "What can I do?", or just come with a smile and a warm greeting for everyone.
And of course, there is Tony and Naomi, who share their gifts so generously. And Kathy in the office, who keeps us all on track with... everything!
My prayer for you this week is that you know how important you are. That you know what a difference you make as you show up as Christ's hands and feet in the world. My prayer is that you know your God is so delighted with you, as you wander around, making the world a better place in all the ways you do.
June 23, 2023
I have been marveling at the light this week. It's been not-quite-dark even just before 10PM, and I can't stop contemplating how different life feels when we have five more hours of sunlight. Things feel easier, more simple, more doable. There's more time for an evening walk and an after-dinner errand doesn't feel like a dreaded chore. And when dusk does fall, the fireflies come out to play, and the frogs and crickets fill the air with song. I'm sure that by the time fall arrives, I just might be ready for a little more quiet and a little more rest. But not yet! First, I will enjoy the long days.
It's also time for my annual confession: I love the heat. I even love the humidity. On days like we've had lately, I am outside as much as possible, basking in the glory of the extremeness that our weather takes here in Minnesota. I know, I know. I usually keep this close to the vest. I know this weather is difficult for some people, and I don't like to think about anyone struggling or extremely uncomfortable. But I am quietly delighting in the burst of lush green and golden heat that is God's beautiful summer.
My prayer for you this week is to take in the particular blessings of each day, each season, and each place your find yourself in life. My prayer for you this week is to be able find some delight in all the sometimes-not-so-subtle ways the Divine is revealed to us. Even if you need to do it from an air conditioned room. :)
June 16, 2023
I've had the joy of spending time with some of our younger Saint Annians at a smaller version of Summer Stretch this week!
For those who may not know, Summer Stretch is a day camp for kids K-8th grade that Saint Anne's had offered for a number of years before taking a three year hiatus due to COVID concerns. This year we brought it back on a smaller scale. The camp is centered around a well-known passage from Micah, Chapter 6:8: "What does the Lord require of you? To do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God." At Summer Stretch (the idea is to stretch our hearts and minds) we spend the week considering what that means, and practicing different ways to live it out. This week we visited a family shelter, an elder care center, picked up garbage at Minnehaha Falls, lived into the value of relaxing, and had some fun along the way!
One of my favorite parts of this week wasn't planned. While we were exploring the concept of Walk Humbly, we stretched yarn between our chairs: each person naming something they find sacred in the world (animals, places, elements, people), and holding onto the string before tossing it to someone else. This process created a "web" of string between us and gave us a visual of how we are all connected. When one part of the string was moved, the entire web would move.
From there, "the web" took on a life of it's own. When Carolyn Swiszcz shared a sun catcher craft that included the option to draw the animals or elements named in our web activity, we decided to incorporate the sun catchers into the web. Soon a few strings of fairy lights were added, and rather than being removed at the end of our lesson, "the web" became a place that for the rest of the week the kids crawled into to rest, to reflect on their days, and to share their thoughts and ideas. Through the web, connections between us became more than connections. The web gave us a sanctuary within a sanctuary.
Thank you to RaeKell Lambert, Ramona Webb, Carolyn Swiszcz, and the Saint Anne's parents and kids who made this week a very special one!
My prayer for each of you is to find the connections between us and see them as sacred. My prayer for you is to find joy in all of the ways we are called to show up in the world to do justice and love kindness, and to find sanctuary in walking humbly with our God.
June 9, 2023
On the first day of school last fall, those starting their senior year at my son Nolan's high school gathered in the school parking lot early in the morning for "Senior Sunrise": a tradition which consists of watching the sun come up together on the first day of their senior year. On the last day of school, this Class of 2023 gathered in the school parking lot for "Senior Sunset": allowing the tradition to come full circle as they watched, together, the sun set on their last day of school - and on their public school days.
The most beautiful thing about this tradition is that it is not a school-sponsored event. The kids plan it, spread the word, and show up for one another, because they know it matters. They understand at a core level, ritual offers us a container to hold some of the biggest emotional and spiritual experiences of our lives. Ritual guides us, reminds us of meaning, and connects us to community. It offers us a sense of belonging and common identity which transforms an individual feeling we might have into a communal one. Ritual can also offer us resilience in a difficult time.
The beauty of the Sunrise/Sunset tradition itself, as well as the grasp of ritual that these kids carry in their souls without needing to be taught, is enough to bring tears to my eyes. The sacredness of this small and simple ritual is stunning.
My prayer for you this week is that you are able to find sacredness in something simple and small, recognizing that even the smallest of things have the power to point us to the holiest of things. And to know in your core that the holy is all around us - from sunrise to sunset, and everything in between. Ours to make meaning of, wherever and whenever we can.
May 26, 2023
Over the last few weeks I've had the joy of connecting with those being baptized this summer, as well as their parents and in some cases Godparents, and to discuss our baptismal promises in depth. Our baptismal promises are challenging, rich, and life-affirming. The document created to facilitate Saint Annians' discussion of the Baptismal promises begins with this:
Baptism not something to accomplish, it is making a choice to join with others in patterning our lives after the example Jesus set before us, to the best of our ability. Since no one can do this alone, ultimately, baptism is about ongoing relationship with God and with fellow travelers on the Way. When a person is baptized they are welcomed into a community. In a baptismal service in the Episcopal church, not only does the one choosing baptism make particular promises, but parents, Godparents, and faith communities are asked: "Will you who witness these vows do all in your power to support this person in his/her life in Christ?" To which all respond: "We will." When you choose baptism, you choose a family of people who promise to love, respect, and support you on your path.
My prayer for you this week is to know, again and again, just how much you (yes, you!) are loved, respected, and supported in your life. Just as you are. Today, tomorrow, and always. And my prayer for you is to know how very much your presence is valued and needed in this community, and in God's world. It is only together, and with God's help, that we can live into the beautiful and hopeful promises we'll make again this week. Thanks be!
May 19, 2023
Life is short, and we do not have much time to gladden the hearts of those who walk the way with us, so be swift to love, and be haste to be kind... We end our services each week with these words, this paraphrase of Jesus' commandment to love one another. The words are stunning in their simplicity, their depth, their truth, and the way they always seem to find new meaning to dovetail with the joys and griefs of the week.
Those words were written by Swiss philosopher Henri-Frédéric Amiel, who was born in 1821. I recently came across a bit of writing that moved me as deeply as the Life is short directive and was surprised - but not surprised! - to learn it was also from Henri-Frédéric Amiel. I believe this new-to-me quote also dovetails with the joys and griefs of our lives. The wonder and mystery of our lives. The wonder and mystery that is God.
Let mystery have its place in you; do not be always turning up your whole soil with the plowshare of self-examination, but leave a little fallow corner in your heart ready for any seed the winds may bring, and reserve a nook of shadow for the passing bird; keep a place in your heart for the unexpected guests, an altar for the unknown God. Then if a bird sing among your branches, do not be too eager to tame it.
My prayer for you this week is to let mystery have its place in you. To leave in your heart an altar for the unknown God. And whether it is a song of joy or one of much-needed comfort, for birds to sing among your branches.
May 5, 2023
Our backyard neighbors had solar panels installed on their roof this week. As part of the installation, they had a large Black Walnut tree removed from their yard to allow the new panels as much direct sunlight as possible. I confess I never did like that tree.
The tree was old, and huge, and during windstorms its large branches would sway heavily. Occasionally a branch would break off and knock out electricity for our street. Some of the larger branches hung a bit too close to our roof for our liking. I had other reasons for giving that tree the side eye as well. I am deathly allergic to walnuts, and every fall it would drop hundreds and hundreds of walnuts into our back yard. Not only would I avoid going into the back yard during those times, but the size of the tree and number of walnuts dropped on the ground meant that, per doctor's orders, I could not grow vegetables for my own consumption in the yard because they would be tainted with walnut protein from the soil.
I was not heartbroken the day that tree came down.
And yet.
When looking out into my backyard now, I find myself noticing the place where the tree had reached into the sky with a bit of wistfulness. I suppose I'd grown accustomed to its big-branch creaking sounds, because it feels strangely quiet in my yard now. And I've seen squirrels running around the spot where it stood as if they're saying, "I swear, it was right here." I've wondered where they'll get their winter stash of food this year, without those hundreds and hundreds of walnuts.
I'm not sad that the tree is gone. But I appreciate what it was now, more than I did before, and I do wish I'd appreciated it a bit more when it was part of my landscape. Of course, my appreciation would not have made a difference for the tree, but it would have saved me some grouchy feelings toward a fellow inhabitant of God's Earth. The tree did nothing intentionally wrong, I realize, when it waved hello at me with heavy branches during windstorms and offered me gifts of walnuts.
My prayer for you this week is to find something to appreciate even in something you don't actually appreciate. The Book of Genesis tells us that God saw everything created as good. And the Psalmist reminds us to give thanks in all things. My prayer for you this week is to be able to look at the world around you with the eyes of God, and to give thanks even when (especially when?) thanks is not the first reaction. Changing our lens just might change our hearts. And if I can come to appreciate a walnut tree, just think what you can do with your God lens.
April 28, 2023
Sometimes the privilege of walking through this life with each of you as we celebrate joys together, manage sorrows together, share life stories, ask questions, wonder, and seek the Divine together... sometimes the privileges of this life together are enough to stop me in my tracks. It's all I can do to give thanks and hold back grateful tears. This was one of those weeks. There were joys and sorrows. There were some late nights and some early mornings, there were two funerals in my wider world, and another one today, and there are two weddings in the works. There was a beautiful Bible Study gathering. There were phone meetings and Zoom meetings and in-person meetings. There were a whole bunch of emails and, please forgive me, I imagine some I missed as well. There was paperwork and calendar-setting, there were frustrations and celebrations, and twice when I arrived at church there were deer in the outdoor chapel. It is all such a great privilege and sometimes my heart overflows with the wonder of it all.
My prayer for you this week is that some heart-overflowing-with-gratitude moments, big or small, find you. My prayer is for the wonder of the world, its joys and sorrows, to give you a peek into heart of the Divine.
April 21, 2023
Is it just me, or have the weeks since Easter felt a bit heavy in our world? We've experienced the death of our own Karen Campbell, and I know some of you have experienced other losses, and changes in circumstance, in your own lives as well. In my own life, my wonderful Aunt Lynn died a week ago, far too young, several months after a cancer diagnosis. In our national news, we've had some more shocking and deeply disturbing incidences around gun violence based on fear and intolerance. There are laws being pass with the intent to discriminate. At least for me, these weeks have been a heavy time.
And yet, I've been reflecting on the fact that this is what Easter is all about: regardless of any of the devastating circumstances we each experience in our lives at times, fear, pain, and death never have the last word. In fact, quite the contrary, thanks be to God.
As I drove home from church on Thursday, between rain showers, I marveled at all of the green suddenly popping up everywhere. Where just a few weeks ago we had snow (!) and then all of the mucky brown that had been hidden all winter, suddenly GREEN everywhere I looked, shimmering in the spring rain. I could not stop looking at, and marveling at, it. What a gift! What a gift, this life. Even when it's impossibly difficult at times.
My prayer for you this week is to let your eyes soak in all of the shimmering green. Even if, especially if, your heart has felt a bit heavy. Let the new buds on the trees and the brightening all around you remind you that stuck in the muck is never the end. Now the green blade rises - and love lives, thanks be to God.
April 14, 2023
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
Thank you to all who helped make this a beautiful and meaningful Holy Week and Easter Sunday. It would be impossible to name everyone but please know all your efforts were seen and so appreciated. Special thanks this year to:
Kate and Jenny for organizing hospitality and all who brought food and set up and cleaned up
To all who participated in the Vigil skits and to all who read during services
To Nancy, Karen, and the Altar Guild support who did so much behind the scenes (including Janine, who ran out to Ace Hardware to save the day the evening of Easter Vigil - that was a story!)
To Tony, Naomi, and the choir who added so much to our services with their stunning musical offerings
Our vergers and acolytes
RaeKell and her crew who supported the Easter Bunny's visit to Saint Anne's
Kathy, who printed a gazillion bulletins
The Rev. Luis Ottley in his first Holy Week as a deacon
Bishop Marty and Spirit of Hope for their partnership
All of you who showed up in so many ways, body, mind, and/or spirit, to enter Holy Week, that most sacred time, together
And now we get to spend the Great 50 Days of Easter watching the snow melt and marveling at the way all things, even in what seemed to be the most impossible situations, can be made new. We get to spend the 50 Days of Easter wondering, seeking, doubting, seeing, growing, and celebrating together.
My prayer for you this week is that you see the risen Christ everywhere you look: in the greening of the earth, in a smile from a stranger, and in the beating of your own heart. My prayer for you this week is that, in some way, that one thing had seemed to you to be an impossible situation in your world can be made new.
March 31, 2023
Theologian Richard Rohr writes this about Holy Week: Holy Week, a week when we are invited to practice the most basic and most sacred rhythm of the spiritual life: the rhythm of death, burial, and resurrection. The Paschal mystery. It is not a rhythm that any of us would willingly choose or even know how to choose; it is usually thrust upon us. Even Jesus admitted to having mixed feelings about the inevitability of it all. Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—”Father, save me from this hour?” (John 12:27)
I know (I know!) that Holy Week is a lot of church; a lot to balance with everything else we all have going on. And yet, this is our story. I invite you deeply into it.
There is nothing like being in community as we practice this "most sacred rhythm" of our common life; I invite you to come to the offerings as services we have in-person as you're able. In addition, though, on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday, you'll receive emails with readings and other ways to enter the story at home.
And finally, my most surprising Holy Week practice from last year: Holy Week Texts from Try Tank, an Episcopal "experimental lab". During Holy Week, Try Tank sends texts as "Breaking News" updates such as "JUST IN. Jesus arrives at the house of Simon the leper in Bethany and is anointed with a costly jar of oil." These little pop ups throughout the week last year brought the story to life in a new way. You can stop the texts at any time, and Try Tank never makes contact during the rest of the near, nor shares phone numbers. Text EASTER to 833.629.1076 to give it a try! (Pun intended, feel free to throw tomatoes.)
This is our story. The struggle and the joy. It is a blessing to share it all with you. We'll begin with our celebration of Palm Sunday this week. 🌴
March 24, 2023
It's happening! New life, where just a short time ago, we saw only ice and snow. Right outside our own church doors, it's happening!
It feels like a surprise and a miracle every single year to see those first tender greens come up. Of course this new life has been waiting to burst forth, all along. We knew it was was there, under the deep snow, through all of those long winter nights. But for some reason, I almost forget, every year, that this miracle will come. I almost forget, every year, how it feels to see this miracle unfold.
It's easy, I suppose, when we're in the middle of any cold and shadowed season - whether meteorological or metaphorical - to allow ourselves to get buried in the - meteorological or metaphorical - ice and snow. To forget what true warmth feels like, even when we know intellectually that there is something new waiting for its time to burst forth. It's difficult, sometimes, to remember the miracle will always be coming.
My prayer for you this week is to know, as a truth kept deep in your heart, that there are miracles waiting under whatever ice and snow you find yourself in. And to know, as a truth kept deep in your heart, that these miracles will burst forth. My prayer for you this week, and always, is to see these miracles above, beneath, and all around you.
March 17, 2023
This week has been a flurry of activity, from lively Lenten Wednesdays to Holy Week planning to Luis Ottley's ordination tonight, with two Bishops in attendance as well as clergy, family, and friends from various parts of Minnesota and Atlanta, and so many Saint Annians jumping in to help. It's been joyful, and bustling, and quite a contrast from three years ago when we were just starting our initial COVID lockdown.
It is quite an astonishing thing, really, to reflect on all that has happened in the last three years. All we have lost, and some we have gained. All of the ways we have grown and shifted, and held tightly to what is most important. Through all of our struggles and celebrations, our worries and thanksgivings, our griefs and joys, the cycles of life continue. It makes me feel both small, and hugely connected to the heartbeat of God. Connected to each of you, as well.
My prayer for you this week is to feel the astonishment of your life. The struggles and the pain, and the love that holds us together. The love in which God holds you.
March 10, 2023
Episcopal Bishop Steven Charleston shared the following meditation this week:
Will I ever feel it again? That deep sense of calm, of serenity, of safety? There were times as a child that I felt enveloped by the small universe of my own creation, at peace with the Spirit who shared my farmhouse on the edge of everywhere. There were times as an adult when I felt I had discovered the heart of hope, a hilltop view of the wonders yet to come. Will I ever feel that way again? Yes: as long as I trust the sacred I leave the door open to a peace that passes understanding.
I sat with these beautiful and haunting words for a little while. I thought about the times as a child I felt "at peace with the Spirit", and I thought about the times as an adult I "discovered the heart of hope". I also thought about the times I've lost those feelings of safety, connection, and hope. I thought about this season of Lent and the wilderness times in each of our lives. And I thought about each of you and the very difficult things, sometimes impossibly difficult things, you have gone through, or are going through.
In the middle of a wilderness time, feeling safe and at peace can seem beyond us. The good news is that even when the peace that passes all understanding feels beyond us, we are not beyond it. My prayer for you this week is that wherever you are on your life's journey right now - the joy of it or the pain of it - you are able to leave the door to the sacred propped open. Peace and hope will be found again, just on the other side, and you will get there. This is God's promise.
March 3, 2023
My husband and I had a chance this week to go see one of our favorite musicians, Bob Weir, play at The Palace in St. Paul with his band Wolf Bros. Those who know Bob Weir know he was a founder of the band The Grateful Dead, and those who know me know that The Grateful Dead are near and dear to my heart, and are a factor in my call to the priesthood.
For me, attending a concert in this genre with the audience that attends these shows feels like a glimpse into what the Kingdom of Heaven might be. There is a kindness, a gentleness, and a generosity among that crowd that feels natural, and yet it is very intentional. There are certain unwritten rules at Dead shows:
1. Be kind. Open smiles, pleases, thank yous, can I help yous, come sit here, we have room are all the norm at Dead shows.
2. Be generous. It is common for people to walk around calling out, "Miracle?", meaning they are searching for a free ticket. It stems from the Grateful Dead song I Need A Miracle; the chorus goes like this:
Just one thing and I'll be OK / I need a miracle every day
It is just as thrilling to give a miracle at a Dead show as it is to receive one.
3. Be grateful. (No pun intended!) Every Grateful Dead concert is different, so one never knows how an evening will unfold, but accepting what is offered with joy is an unwritten part of attending a show. "There are no bad shows!" is a choice.
4. Be comfortable in your belovedness. A crowd favorite is a song called Lovelight, and the chorus goes:
Turn on your lovelight / Let it shine on me / Let it shine, let it shine.
I love that this song is about directly asking for what is needed. No hemming or hawing or "I am not worthy" in this one. Just an open and vulnerable ask for what we all need: love from the people around us, and the certainty that we are each deserving of it.
Does all of that sound familar? I am not saying Bob Weir is Jesus, but he does have a long beard and he happens to wear sandals... hmmm.... Or maybe it's just that Bob Weir, in his own way, has shepherded a community which, whether knowingly or unknowingly, lives out the teachings of Jesus in some very real ways. It's a beautiful thing to witness, and in a world that can seem sometimes like a desert journey, it's an oasis.
I pray for you this week some small reminders of all the ways we can experience the Kingdom of Heaven, here and now: for your open smile to meet another's, for you to encounter a generous miracle every day, for accepting with joy the gifts that come your way, and for lovelight to shine on you. I pray for an oasis whenever you find yourself on a desert journey.
February 24, 2023
At the family-centered Ash Wednesday service this week, we all gathered together around the altar during Communion, noting that Communion sounds a lot like community. We talked about how during our Eucharistic Prayers we begin by telling the story of God and God's people, and we give thanks.
I invited the kids to share with me some things that remind them of God's presence, and these thanksgivings became part of our Eucharistic Prayers. "Family", one child said. "Family!", I repeated. "Friends", another child said. "Friends!", I repeated. "Pets", were included next. "Pets!", I affirmed. Then one of our young Saint Anne's said, "Alaskan kids". Alaskan kids? An image of kids bundled up and playing happily in the snow popped into my head. Ok, I thought, in our Eucharistic Prayers, right next to our ancestor Abraham (and our ancestor Abraham Lincoln, added by one young Saint Annian), we will be thankful for Alaskan kids.
"Alaskan kids!", I added to the mix. "What?", the child asked. "Alaskan kids!", I repeated. "Nooooo", the child laughed. "I said we can be thankful for laughing kids. Ohhh.... Laughing kids, not Alaskan kids. Now that made us all laugh!
And now the phrase "Alaskan kids" won't leave my head. In the middle of an email, or a Zoom call, or while walking my dogs, I will suddenly think "Alaskan kids!" In a way I cannot quite explain, it has been a delightful gift. For some reason, the unexpected way "Alaskan kids" showed up at our Communion table, asking me to simply give thanks without question, has made me more aware of God showing up all around us in unexpected ways. Made me more aware of finding thanksgiving, without questions, in all kinds of situations.
I have decided my Lenten practice this year will be to keep myself open to completely unusual thanksgivings. Manifestations of God that I might not previously considered. I will strive to find one new revelation of God each day. If I ever wonder if, perhaps, the revelation I've found is too unexpected, I will think "Alaskan kids at the Communion table" and I will give thanks without question.
My prayer for you this week, and this Lent, is to find a simple, daily, Lenten practice that allows you to experience God in new, and maybe unexpected, manners and places. And I would love to hear all about it.
February 17, 2023
I am writing to you from the Brainerd Lakes area, where I am attending the annual ECMN clergy conference. Though only a few hours north, the weather here is quite different from what I left at home. More in line with the true Minnesota mid-February weather that we normally get "down in the Cities", as they say. Brrr! But the conference center is warm, and the company even warmer.
This year, the title and theme of this gathering is The Hope That is in Us: Finding Jesus in the Heart of Our Story. Bishop Loya has intentionally shifted the language around this annual event from clergy conference to clergy retreat. His hope is that this can be a time to share stories and experiences, and a time to refresh both our spirits and our connections with one another. His hope is that this can be a time to remind ourselves of the why and sense of joy behind the work we do.
At Saint Anne's annual Vestry retreat, which will take place the first weekend in March, we will be asking ourselves the same questions: Why church? Why Saint Anne's? Where is Jesus in the heart of our story as a community? I encourage all of us to consider these questions. What answers come easily? What questions linger in your mind and in your heart? Feel free to share with me, or with any Vestry member, or simply continue to ponder. There are no right or wrong answers!
My prayer for you this week is for you to sense the why at the heart of your story. And may you find, in that sense of why, refreshment, connection, and joy.