Advent-Day-Six: AWAKE

This is what I wake up to for almost every day of the past 5 years.  Equipped by the Good Lord with some kind of feline sense of time, she invariably jumps on the bed, marches across my body in repose, peering into my face about 10 minutes before my alarm goes off.  Almost every day.  Doesn't matter when my alarm is set.  She will best it by 10 minutes.

A sweet, purry and cuddly reminder that there is at least one being in the world who depends on me (the kibble bowl don't fill itself, lady.) Invariably, as she settles in and works up her rusty purr, I am reminded that there will be others like her today.  Their demands may not be so obvious, not quite so in-your-face, they may not be so innocent or, to my mind, necessary.  But there is a great deal of good to be done in the world.  First we must be AWAKE, then we can do our part.

Are you AWAKE?

As long as you're awake I thought I'd remind you of two things:

1) I'm adorable.

2) Feed me.

Advent Word-a-Day: FLOOD

I love the FLOOD of Christmas cards that fall through my mail shoot this time of year.  The trickle began today.  Anticipating the deluge as I try to hold off opening them all until Christmas Eve!

Advent Day 3: PEACE

There is a Dutch word -- (c)husselick (this is my best attempt a phonetic spelling.)  I'm told it can't be properly translated into English with one simple equivalent.  (C)husselick means: comfortable, cozy, homey, that all-is-right-with-the-world feeling, or, possibly, PEACE.

Advent Day 2: BOUND

Monday is typically my day off or, said more properly, my Sabbath.  My practice of Sabbath fluctuates -- sometimes through good, new ideas and sometimes through lazy attrition.  Ideally, what it means to practice Sabbath is to honor Ireneus' saying from the 4th century:

"The glory of God is the human person fully alive"

To ask, in what ways has this past week detracted from life in all it's fullness.  Where am I depleted and in need of God's rest, joy and peace?
The answer is sometimes (almost always) to sleep a little later, to pray a little more deeply, to honor my body through exercise and good food and to do something that engages my curiosity and creativity. Thankfully, in Washington DC, the latter is not hard to come by.

All of this is a very long preamble to the point. Today Sabbath meant going to see a movie:

12 Years a Slave is the story of freeman, Solomon Northup, who was kidnapped and forced to live as a slave on plantations in the American South.  The story is heart-wrenching and the acting does it justice.  

The Advent-Word-of-the-Day is BOUND, which made this movie quite obviously relevant.  There is a scene near to the end of the movie -- a close up of Solomon's face as he waits in hope that finally, finally someone who owes him nothing will take the side of justice and common humanity.  This one shot of his face is, without words, the very heartbeat of Advent.  

(spoiler alert) May we too find that our waiting in hope is fulfilled by one who owes us nothing, one who is divinely just and shares our humanity, one who is our friend. 

He comes the prisoners to release,

In Satan’s bondage held;

The gates of brass before Him burst,

The iron fetters yield.

Advent Day 1: GO

The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo, adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t. And if they had, we shouldn’t know, because they’d have been forgotten. “

(Samwise Gamgee)

GO!!

Advent-ing It Up.

During the holidays, we rush.

During Advent, we stand still.

During the holidays, we do.

During Advent, we wait.

During the holidays, we give gifts.

During Advent, we give attention.

The holiday season with it's hustle and bustle, it's festive merriment and fa-la-la-la-la is upon us.
But so to is the season of Advent, where we wait again with baited breath for the celebration of the Christ-Child.
It is easy to get swept away in the holiday tide.  It takes discipline to stop, to focus and to pay attention to the coming Christmastide.

This year, (BEGINNING SUNDAY) I am using this photo-a-day guide to focus my attention and center my thoughts on something beyond the immediate, pressing concerns of "the holiday season".  This year I want to feast my eyes and my camera lens (ok, the camera function on my iPhone) on images that whisper or shout out this greatest  of truths: "Immanuel! God is with us!"

I'll be posting to this blog, twitter and facebook and I encourage you to do the same!

When the Minister's Away ...

Earlier this week, I participated in a retreat of pastor colleagues in our Classis.  6 of us met together at Richmond Hill Retreat Center.

The first thing that needs to be said is that this retreat center is amazing.  A pre-Civil War mansion, turned Roman Catholic Convent, turned ecumenical prayer center and retreat facility.  The folks who live here are prayerful and hospitable.  The opportunities for prayer -- 3 services a day, bi-weekly Eucharist, centering prayer groups, Taize worship several times a month, an art room, a labyrinth -- are varied.  The life of prayer evidenced in this congregation is deeply tied to their sense of place and mission in the city of Richmond.  They follow a weekly rhythm of prayer for the city -- they pray by name for public officials, non-profit agencies, school teachers and first responders. From this I learned that being on retreat is, in fact, a way of engaging our world deeply.  This place is only 2 hours away from DC and, if you couldn't already tell, I highly recommend it.

The second important piece of this retreat was the opportunity to share with colleagues on retreat.  I must confess to hardly knowing these guys before the retreat and, as a young clergy-woman, was uncertain how the dynamics would work.  It was nice to know that, while our demographic details might be widely varied in this group (okay ... truthfully, that MY demographics would be quite different from the rest of the group) we hold a shared calling.  And that similarity -- not to mention our kinship in Christ -- was certainly enough to adhere us together for the work of sharing our lives and prayer.  Note: if you are a pastor in the Christian Reformed Church, there is grant money available for you to try something similar in your setting.  Check THIS out.

Third and finally, while there are many oddities attendant to the calling to vocational ministry, surely this is, well, one of them: I am to pray like it's my job ... because it is.  I have trouble justifying this sometimes.  It can be easier to settle into doing things -- actual, concrete tasks that produce a sermon or a pastoral visit or a proposal to Council.  Prayer -- beyond a daily time spent in the word and a list of intercessions for congregation members -- can feel like a luxury. And, indeed, if I were to catalog the things I did on retreat, you might well agree with that assessment.

What do you do on retreat?
Take naps
Read poetry
Corporate worship (in which I do NOT take the lead)
Prayer with friends.
Prayer in silence.
Devour good prose
Walk the labyrinth
Reflect on the Psalms
Draw
Write
Go slowly.  

But friends, ask me why.

WHY do you do these things?
To remember God
To remember self
To clear out the cobwebs on my soul.
To make space.
To rest and to wake up.
To die and to come alive.

In all of this, I was reminded of a wonderful quotation from Catholic priest & theologian, Henri Nouwen:

"If I could have a gentle 'interiority' -- 

a heart of flesh and not of stone,

a room with spots on which one might walk barefooted --

then God and my fellow human beings could meet each other there."

Perhaps therein lies the best possible answer to the question "why".  Boiled down, the job of a pastor is to be the space where God and human beings can meet each other.  In our sermons, in our intercessions, in our visits, in our hospitality, in our being we provide this space.  But, to be or to provide that space takes work.  If my life is to be a place where I invite you to "walk barefooted," as it were, I must first be gentled (no small feat in my case), reminded that I am of more use to God and to you when I am human and vulnerable instead of invincible and alien. That is why.