September 20, 2024
Over the last week I:
Officiated at Analise and Chris Ober-Slepica's beautiful wedding
Baptized their darling son Izaak at the same ceremony
Attended the funeral of a dear friend who died unexpectedly
Had a great Vestry meeting with the fantastic Saint Anne's leadership team
Started making some Advent liturgy plans
Saw the lunar eclipse
Celebrated with Office Administrator Kathy the birth of her newest grandson
Went grocery shopping and had my bags fall out of the back of my car and spill into the parking lot - in the pouring rain
Forgot to buy dog treats and did not go back; now dealing with sad puppy dog eyes every time they go out to do their business
Attended various meetings in person, by phone, and over Zoom
Woke up to my "Aurora Alert" going off at 1 AM and went outside to get to peek at faint Northern Lights right in my yard
Went to a training session for ECMN clergy about how to navigate this contentious election season in the church
Saw a doctor for the deep cough that's been hanging on since I was sick
Scooped two dead birds off of Saint Anne's sidewalk and gave them a little funeral in our woods
Continued planning for our 2025 Pledge Drive
Studied the lectionary readings for this week
Read, wrote, and sent about a million emails
Got things organized for our Ministry Fair this Sunday and marveled at all of the wonderful things Saint Anne's is up to
Felt bad about the things that haven't gotten done yet
And that is how some of my time was spent. When I look back on it, I realize I saw God present in some of it so clearly (wedding! baptism! Northern Lights!) but I wonder if I forgot to see God in other places (grocery store? commute time? setting up Zoom links?). How about you? I know each of your days and weeks are full of all kinds of events and details too: things big and small, joyful and difficult, expected and unexpected. Though we know there is nowhere we can go that God is not, it is certainly easier to sense that Holy presence in life's most spectacular moments.
My prayer for all of us this week is to remember to see sparks of the Holy in all we do. Even and especially the mundane. May we have eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to feel God's presence in even spreadsheets and spilled groceries.
September 13, 2024
My mom and one of her dearest, life-long, friends have not always shared the same political views. For most of their friendship that was not an issue, but over the last few election cycles, "political differences" have felt more like canyons: nearly impossible to meet in the middle. "Agreeing to disagree" doesn't feel genuine when they both believe there is so much at risk, and it's put a strain on their connection.
Determined to save their friendship, my mom and her friend recently decided they would sit down together, with the purpose of listening to one another. Ahead of their sit-down, they'll each share with the other their top concern about the other's chosen candidate, and their top election issues. They'll then listen to what the other has to say for a set amount of time, without defending their own position. Their goal is not to change one another's mind, but to understand one another better.
I will admit, my dad and siblings are all a bit nervous about how this is all going to go, but apparently my mom and her friend are onto something. Earlier this week, Dianne Del Giorno shared with me an MPR story featuring a program sponsored by Braver Angels called Walk a Mile in My News, which is aimed at people interested in better understanding other people’s political perspectives. MPR states:
What ‘Walk a Mile in My News’ is: This project aims to help Minnesotans build more positive relationships with people of differing political views.
Who it’s for: People who are interested in understanding other people’s perspectives better by looking at the media sources that inform their views. Basically, people who want to help tone down the vitriol of political disagreements and try to have hard political conversations, better.
Intrigued? Maybe you have a friend, or family member, or neighbor in the same position as my mom and her friend. Maybe you're willing to go there with them. It's not about giving up your deeply held beliefs in any way, it's just about understanding one another better.
In this week's Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples, "...those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it." I don't think Jesus was talking about our losing our physical lives, but he was saying that for the sake of the Gospel - for Love. Compassion. Community. Connection. Hope. Joy - there will be things we must be willing to lose. I imagine shutting ourselves off to caring about why others think they way they do is one of those things we're called to lose. Sigh. I know Jesus says flat out it ain't gonna be easy, but boy, oh boy, is it hard.
My prayer this week is that we each find ways to rise to the challenges of the Gospel, even in these challenging times.
September 6, 2024
A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted, because they are no more. (Jeremiah 31:15)
In this haunting passage from the Book of Jeremiah, Rachel, the beloved wife of Jacob, embodies the traumas of her people, who have been broken by the tragedies of exile. This image of Rachel crying in unconsolable agony at the loss of the lives of children is used again in the Gospel of Matthew, in reference to Herod’s slaughter of the innocents in Bethlehem. Rachel brings front and center the reminder that with deep losses, easy platitudes are not helpful. They are not true compassion. They are not enough.
A voice is heard in Ramah... This passage runs through my mind every time there is another school shooting. Like all of you, I always feel a full range of emotions over these tragedies in our common life. Deep sorrow. Anger. Frustration. Helplessness. Wondering when this modern day slaughter of innocents will end. Though I believe in the power of prayer, the platitude of "thoughts and prayers" is not helpful, is not true compassion, and is not enough.
In case you didn't know, the Episcopal Church, like our siblings in the Catholic Church, the Lutheran Church, the Methodist Church, the UCC, the Unitarian Universalists, the Jewish Council for Public Affairs, the Islamic Society of North America and many other mainstream religious groups, has taken a firm stand against gun violence. I don't know if there are any other issues that almost all mainline religious folks can agree on. Because A voice is heard in Ramah over and over again, and platitudes are not enough.
You can learn more about the work the Episcopal Church is doing toward ending gun violence in our country, and how you can support and join this work, right here. The Episcopal Church also supports a sub-group called Bishops United Against Gun Violence that, among other things, marches to draw attention and lobbies for sensible gun regulations. Our own Bishop Loya is a member of this group.
My prayer for all of us this week is that our swords may be beat into plowshares and our spears into pruning hooks (Isaiah) and that we might take the words from James 2:18 seriously: Someone might claim, “You have faith and I have action.” But how can I see your faith apart from your actions? Instead, I’ll show you my faith by putting it into practice in faithful action. God's people are in distress and the power to end their cries is in our hands. I pray for us all, this week, to somehow, with God's help, rise to this responsibility.
August 30, 2024
This week I had the chance to spend a day with a dear friend from college. She lives in Seattle now and though we chat by text almost every day, we do not have many opportunities to spend in-person time together.
It was wonderful to be in the company of someone who has known me so well, for so long. We picked up where we'd left off: chatting, laughing, and in sync as if no time had passed. We texted some photos to our group of roommates from those college years - now spread over many states and even into other countries. One wrote back, "You two look just the same!". We appreciated the sentiment, but laughed a lot at that one.
When we said goodbye, we both said the day together had felt sacred. As I reflected on it later, I went down a path of thinking that meeting God one day must be even more of that: even more a feeling of being fully seen and deeply known. Maybe one day God will smile at each of us and say we look "just the same" - and we'll just laugh, knowing how much our earthly journey shaped and changed us, but appreciating God's lens.
My prayer for you this week is that you feel seen and heard and known for just who you are. To understand, in some way, that you "haven't changed" at your core, even as you can see your own growth over time. My prayer for you this week is that you feel this is how God knows and loves you. And may there be laugher, at the joy of it all.
August 23, 2024
I am still smiling from last Sunday's beautiful baptism of sweet little Lucia. The way we all see and celebrate the light of Christ in even the tiniest among us. The way we all promised, as we do with each baptism, to help her grow, in whatever ways that looks like for her, into the full stature of Christ. Plus - did you see her tiny bare feet, and her excited siblings gathered around?!
As the political climate in our country continues to heat up, the beautiful baptismal promises we make to and for one another in our church continue swirling in my heart and mind.
Will you continue in the fellowship... ?
We will, with God's help.Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons...?
We will, with God's help.Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
We will, with God's help.
It is not always easy to live in community with those who have different values and thought-processes than we do. It gets downright difficult when we feel those "others" are forcing their views on us, or don't care if we or others experience harm. And when humans feel threatened, we tend to lash back, perpetuating the cycle. Trying to navigate those difficulties makes me extra-glad to be an Episcopalian. Sure, one who fails mightily, every day, but an Episcopalian nonetheless, with the wisdom of our baptismal promises offering a lens for engaging with others that is life-giving rather than combative and destructive. (I just need the aforementioned help from God more on some days than others!)
This fall we at Saint Anne's are going to be exploring ways to help us remain in community with those around us during this election season. Remaining grounded in our baptismal promises, even as the political temperatures rise, is one way. And don't worry, this is not a watering down of your values, or stepping down from the work of justice. It is possible to be passionate about the issues you care most about, and still respect "the other's" dignity. The truth is, there is fear that comes out as anger on all "sides". If we can all set that aside for even a short time, we may be surprised at what transpires.
This isn't easy work, but I'm pretty sure our greatest teacher has it all laid out and has been waiting for us to join him on this path. So my prayer for us this week - for you, and me, and for our communities in general - is to have the courage to follow.
August 2, 2024
Last week marked the 50th Anniversary of the ordination of women in the Episcopal Church. As some of you know, our very own Lori Bakker and Wayne Ogorek, as well as Saint Anne's first rector, The Rev. Anne Miner-Pearson, are part of a 30-minute documentary called Every Gift An Offering, telling the story of how the Episcopal Church in Minnesota "struggled, strove, and adapted to this new reality, with God's help." The film was created by the Bishop's staff and filmed in part at Saint Anne's.
In the film, Anne, Lori, and Wayne share beautiful and moving insights about how the very early Saint Anne's community was brave and bold in confronting biases and assumptions, some their own, and expanding their understanding of what it means to follow Spirit far and wide. Personally speaking, it is not a small thing for me to stand on the strong shoulders of such faith, and I do not take it for granted.
My prayer for all of us this week is that we always strive to keep our hearts and minds open to new ways Spirit may be calling us to be in community with one another, and to be the church in the world. Even when, especially when, it feels challenging. Who knows what might be waiting for us yet! You can watch the film below and I hope you find it as moving as I did
July 26, 2024
I always mis-remember summer as a time of slowing down. It may be that I'm remembering a different time. As Corinne Hamlin noted recently, she remembers easy-breezy summers from when she was a child, but now that she's in charge of the children it's a whole different story!
Yes, it's been a bustling summer. We launched it in style with Pentecost, and then went into a wonderful week of Summer Stretch, the festive West St. Paul Parade, tried something new and exciting with 5th Sunday House Church Gatherings, and then decked out for West St. Paul Pride. A beautiful documentary about the first women priests in Minnesota - featuring Saint Anne's first rector and two Saint Anninas! - was filmed in part at Saint Anne's. As we strive to be a beneficial community resource, Rojas Spanish School, Rotary, and AA continue to gather regularly in our building. In trying to be good stewards of our beautiful grounds, we've installed a new roof, entered into work on our well, plumbing, and AC issues, engaged in ongoing work on installing solar, and done lots of gardening. We're working on updating our signage, and researching the possibility of starting a preschool on site. With thanks to so many who have jumped in with hands and hearts, Saint Anne's has been one hopping place this summer!
This Sunday we'll celebrate all of this, and all that makes Saint Anne's who we are, at our annual Saint Anne's Day Celebration. We'll share the story of our patron saint (you can read more about Anne below), during our liturgy, and we'll enjoy friendships old and new at the BBQ after that. It will be a day to bask in the warm spirit of our community
My prayer for you this week is to know that you are a valuable and important part of this community. That's right, I do mean you. We are who we are, because of each of you, the unique gifts you bring, and your willingness to share them so generously. We are who we are because you show up with your whole hearts. Your laughter and your tears, your joys and your vulnerabilities, all make Saint Anne's a place of hope, healing, learning, growth, peace, and joy. A slice of the kingdom of God. You all never fail to amaze and inspire me. Being in community with you is a great honor and a great joy.
So come this Sunday. Bring a friend. Bring a side dish or a lawn game to share if you're able, and don't worry, if you can't. There is always enough. Because we're Saint Anne's. Let's celebrate!
July 19, 2024
During this week (has it been a week or has it been a month?) of a particularly intense news cicle (and that's saying a lot these days), a friend shared this poem with me:
What I Can Do
So I can’t save the world—
can’t save even myself,
can’t wrap my arms around every frightened child,
can’t foster peace among nations,
can’t bring love to all who feel unlovable.
So I practice opening my heart
right here in this room and being gentle
with my insufficiency.
I practice walking down the street heart first.
And if it is insufficient to share love,
I will practice loving anyway.
I want to converse about truth, about trust.
I want to invite compassion into every interaction.
One willing heart can’t stop a war.
One willing heart can’t feed all the hungry.
And sometimes, daunted by a task too big,
I tell myself what’s the use of trying?
But today, the invitation is clear:
to be ridiculously courageous in love.
To open the heart like a lilac in May,
knowing freeze is possible and opening anyway.
To take love seriously.
To give love wildly.
To race up to the world as if I were a puppy,
adoring and unjaded, stumbling on my own exuberance.
To feel the shock of indifference,
of anger, of cruelty, of fear,
and stay open.
To love as if it matters.
As if the world depends on it.
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
It can be difficult in these times where tensions are running high not to let ourselves be overwhelmed. But in the face of everthing frustrating, uncertain, frightening, anger-inducing, what if we practice loving anyway? What if we are ridiculously courageous in love? What if, despite it all, we dig in deeper. This is my prayer this week - for all of us.
June 28, 2024
My very favorite flower is the daisy and for at least the last ten years I have been trying to get daisies to grow in a prairie-garden area of my yard. Each spring I plant a few daisy plants in this area and each year they bloom beautifully all summer - and then never return. I only plant the varieties of daisies that are perennials in Minnesota so they should come back, and it always puzzles and disappoints me that they don't.
Until this year!
For unknown reasons, this year the daisies are back and blooming like crazy. I've counted what looks to be at least 15 plants with countless blooms coming up right where I've been planting them for the last 10 years. Why this year? Who knows? Maybe some combination of a warm winter and wet spring. But the numbers I'm seeing must include more that just what I planted last year. Where have the missing daisies been all this time??
There's a sermon in here, but I can't quite wrap my mind around it, because the only thing I can do when I see these daisies is smile with delight and try not to overanalyze this happy gift.
My prayer for you this week is for an unexpected delight, straight from our Creator, to find you - against all logic and when you are least expecting it.
June 21, 2024
Summer Solstice Blessings to you! The Winter Solstice is my favorite day of the year: the day the earth tips toward the light. Summer Solstice is a tip in the other direction, and part of my body resists that mightily. I do better with more daylight and warmer temperatures. At the same time, the Summer Solstice is merely the beginning of summer and its long, lingering, days, and I try to remind myself to remain in the moment. To give thanks for what is right here in front of me, right here and now. I don't want to miss it, and especially not out of worry for the future.
What I love most about celebrating the solstices and the other rhythms of the natural world - the first days of Spring, Fall, the new and full moons, even our daily sunrises and sunsets - is that they reminds us that our Creator is present with us every single day, in every single way. If we pay attention, the rhythms of the natural world are rhythms that are echoed in our own bodies, and our own souls. Another reminder that we are connected to all things, through the Holy One. The sun and the rain, the daylight and the darkness, all part of who we are, and all part of the great Divine. All holy, each in their own way.
Honoring the solstices and other such days can remind us just how precious each day of life is, because the truth of its passing away is also acknowledged. It gives us opportunities - daily! - to appreciate gifts we receive from our Creator; not take them for granted. My prayer for you this week is that you feel, in your body and your soul, this holiness. My prayer for you is that you find in these connections reason to give thanks here and now, knowing that whatever the future may bring, it too will be holy.
June 7, 2024
Our youngest son, Nolan, has a summer job at a local public park and if there's time in the evenings my husband and I go walk a few loops around the park and say hi to him. Last night was such a night.
There happened to be a baseball game in full swing at the park when we arrived. The players looked to be about seven or eight years old, and it was completely delightful to peek at them playing, as we made our park loops. Some plays were smooth, but more often they were hilariously haphazard. A catcher would miss a wild pitch and then try to stop a base steal, resulting in a series of missed catches and throws all over the field. An outfielder would field the ball and then throw it far over the infielders' heads. As balls were overthrown, one runner would run to a base where another baserunner was staying put. Coaches and parents tried to help shouting, "Throw to 2nd!" or, "Run! Run!" and the kids would turn in circles, oblivious to the coaching, a bit overwhelmed at trying to figure out their next move.
Though it was sweet and fun to watch these emerging players, it also made me think about all of the balls - often curveballs - that are often thrown to each of us on any given day of our lives. Unlike the scene we witnessed at the park last night, these situations we encounter in life are not a game. There may be a stressful situation at work, financial struggles, strain with a loved one, worry about someone, unexpected results from the doctor, deep losses, or a phone call with news that changes everything. The various balls thrown to us on any given day can be difficult to field in body, mind, and spirit.
As I watched coaches and parents try to take both enthusiastic and gentle care of their young players, it occurred to me that we are being taken care of in life in much the same way. Our Trinity stands on our sidelines, offering us love, support. Cheering us on during the good times and offering us comfort when the going gets tough. Sometimes we are oblivious to the coaching we get, sometimes we are too overwhelmed to even hear it.
The curveballs that come our way can be difficult to manage, at times. There are times it feels they'll never stop coming. My prayer for you this week is to look and listen for your sideline care team. The love of the Divine, the healing hands of Jesus, and the breath of Spirit. The angels and ancestors that walk with us. They are there. Maybe we can't always see them, but my prayer is that you can at least feel their presence. Maybe we can't always hear their shouts, but my prayer that you can at least hear their whispers, so full of love for you.
May 31, 2024
I had a routine doctor's appointment this week, and apparently I had either signed up for text reminders or forgotten to opt out of the reminders. And wow, remind me they did! I made the appointment about six weeks ago, and got my first reminder one month before the appointment. The second reminder came three weeks before the appointment, and the third reminder two weeks before the appointment. They ramped up from there to twice per week. There were daily reminders the week prior to the appointment, and the day before the appointment I received three regular reminders and three text requests to check-in online. It was a lot.
Jennifer, why not just opt out?, you may be asking. That's a darn good question. I almost opted about at least five or six times, but each time I hesitated. The texts were too many, definitely, but they were also helpful. Pestering, but helpful. By the time the day of my appointment arrived, there was no way I was going to forget it.
The flood of reminders got me thinking about all the ways the Divine reaches out to us, on a daily basis. The promise of the sunrise each morning. The gifts of grace and mercy. Friends, neighbors, and even strangers who wave hello, make us smile, or lend a hand. Friends, neighbors, and even strangers who need us to wave hello, make them smile, or lend a hand. "Coincidences" that make us wonder...
I suppose we need those reminders the same way my appointment reminders were (annoyingly) helpful. Scripture tells us God is always with us. Got it, we say. "Love your neighbor," Jesus said. Got it, we say. But then, we often behave differently. I guess Spirit needs to "text" us with reminders. Ping! A little nudge that brings us comfort when we need it. Ping! An invitation to step into new ways of being in community with one another. Ping! Situations that challenge us - and help us grow.
My prayer for you this week is for your Spirt pings to feel more like invitations and less like pestering. My prayer is that you choose not to opt out.
May 17, 2024
My daughter and I have decided it is time to befriend the crows that frequent the tall maple trees in our yard. For years a group of 8-10 crows - or perhaps a rotating group of 8 to 10 crows? - has been hanging around our trees, often cawing loudly from above as we come and go. Knowing how smart crows are, and how they seem to have feelings about people, we've been a little intimidated by them for quite some time, but we've decided to change that, and have been reading up on how to make friends with them.
According to crow experts, here's what it takes:
Find and offer food that they seem to like. This is apparently trial and error, as different crows like different foods. We're to determine what they like by spreading options on the ground under their trees and observing.
Give them space. Crows don't like to be stared at. (Which makes #1 a little tricky, but we'll do our best.)
Be dependable and respectful. Once we determine what they like, we'll offer them treats on a regular schedule, in a calm and gentle manner.
Whistle. Whistling when we give them treats draws their attention, and we're told it means they'll come to associate that sound with us in a positive way. My daughter can't whistle (despite a lifetime of trying!) so I guess this one is all on me.
Be patient. It will take time for crows to trust us.
It occurs to me that this is generally good advice for getting to know anyone, crow or human. (Maybe minus the whistling.) It also feels a lot like the way God shows up for us. Dependable and respectful. Giving us space to do our own thing in the world. At the same time, offering signs of a Divine presence that we can pick up on, if we're paying attention. Patience with us - so much patience. Presenting us with a whole world full of food options!
My prayer for you this week is for you to feel the presence of God, patiently and carefully trying to become your friend.
May 3, 2024
It’s the most wonderful time of the year: garage sale season! Signs have started popping up in my neighborhood, and I can't wait to start dropping in on them. I usually just do 5-10 minutes here and there on my way to somewhere or something else, but those are 5-10 minutes I look forward to. One never knows what one might encounter: the good, the bad, the funny, the wanted, needed, and the no thanks all turn an ordinary 5-10 minutes into an adventure.
My favorite part about garage sales is hearing stories from the sellers. When my kids were babies, I would often find clothing and books for them at garage sales and I would hear, “Oh, my daughter wore that the summer she turned two” or “My son loved this book!” The items were more than a pair or shorts or a book, they were pieces of a story, often little bits of joy, passed along. Knickknacks and old doilies and glassware usually come with special memories. Garage Sale Truth is that even when it's time to pass them on, our things are often more than things. They tell a piece of our story.
In a way, Garage Sale Truth is also God Truth: we are all connected to one another and to something bigger than ourselves. Every conversation we share with on another, every candle we light together or prayer we pray together, every shared experience, is way to join pieces of our stories with the stories of others, and with our bigger story. And it's all held together with love. Branches and vines. Kickknacks and doilies. What if all God dreams for us is to go through life sharing with one another in this way. Could it be that simple?
My prayer for you this week is that you find a sacred sense of shared story in the good, bad, funny, wanted, needed, and even in the no thanks that you encounter. May these encounters bring you little bits of joy and remind you that you are always held in love - always connected to the stories that came before you and will come after you. Always connected to God's Great Story. And may you, too, pass it along when the time is right.
April 27, 2024
Due to circumstances beyond my control (within my husband's control, but apparently beyond mine) we are currently a household with five cars (some of which belong to our children and a few of which actually run!) and a small vintage camper, all vying for space in our two car garage and narrow driveway. This means we play the Can You Please Move Your Car I Need To Leave game daily.
Last night after dinner we noted the cars were not in optimal Morning Routine positions and decided to move them right then. Our two dogs, Maude and Roger, saw me grab my car keys and got very excited. Because I'm a softy for their little puppy-dog eyes, I invited them to come with me - all the way down the driveway and into the street for about 30 seconds until I pulled back in after William moved his car.
You would have thought I invited them to Doggie Disneyland. After looking at me in disbelief and getting the go-ahead, they sprinted down the driveway, detoured into the lawn to run a few excited circles, and then hopped into the car. They found their usual places (Maude in the passenger seat, Roger on the console between the seats) and looked out the window expectantly, tongues out and tails wagging.
It always strikes me that when the dogs come into the car with me they have no idea where we're going or how long the journey might be. Sometimes it's to the trails by the river, sometimes it's to the vet. Sometimes it's a 30+ hour road trip to visit our California family, sometimes it's 30 seconds in and out of the driveway. They are just as eager every time. They are just as content after each trip - even one just down the driveway.
It strikes me that God invites to hop into the car every day. We have no idea where Spirit might lead, or how the Way of Love might guide us, we're just issued the invitation. We could choose to say no. No thank you, God, I choose not to ride today. I choose not to follow Spirit's lead or led Love be my guide. Not today. Or... we could hop in, find our place, and look out the window.
My prayer for you this week is to say yes, and see where the journey takes you. My prayer this week is that you find some joys, large or small, on your road trip with God.
April 19, 2024
There is a lot going on these days in Saint Anne's little corner of God's world. My weeks have been full to the brim with conversations and meetings and plans big and small, across all areas of ministry and community. It is such a joy! Each meeting and each conversation leaves me with even more energy for our future and all the ways we can love, care, worship, play, build, grow, celebrate, and serve the people of God together.
I hope you know how special this it. How special this community is. I hope you know that when people ask me about Saint Anne's, they tell me I light up before I begin going on and on about you. Yes, you.
My prayer for you this week is for you to know how amazing you are; for you to notice how the love of God grows in you, the light of Christ shines through you, and the song of Spirit dances with you. Yes, you!
April 12, 2024
My husband, William, road-tripped to Arkansas this week, to view the solar eclipse in totality. If you have spoken with him at all since then you already know this, because it is all he can talk about now. That, and making plans to see the next eclipse, no matter how far he needs to travel. He said the experience was much more powerful than he'd even imagined it would be: magical and sacred. Although he was traveling alone, William ended up watching the eclipse in an Arkansas state park with hundreds of other people nearby. The cheering and laughing around him, and sharing such a unique and intense moment in time with other seekers, was part of what made the whole experience.
Though road-trips are truly my favorite activity in the world, I did not go on this one, for a whole host of reasons. My eclipse experience was about a mile and a half from our house, on the bluff overlooking downtown Saint Paul. The layers of heavy clouds in Minnesota that day meant my eclipse was shared with not hundreds ooo-ing and ahhh-ing people, but about 30 others up on the bluff, all of us asking one another if we knew what direction the sun should be at that moment. It was uniting in its own way.
Honestly, I don't know if I've ever felt as tender toward humanity as I did that day. As I watched old and young, people of different races, people who seemed to be of different socio-economic circles, I'm sure people of different political persuasions, all walking toward the bluff with solar glasses in their hands, I felt a rush of love. Softness for everyone up there, everyone traveling near and far, everyone across the country who stopped what they were doing just to look up. Just to experience some wonder at something bigger than ourselves.
Later in the week, I read that internet usage in the United States during the the eclipse dropped by 40%. Whether under sunny skies in Arkansas or cloudy skies in Minnesota, or anywhere in between, we shared this moment. And for the sole purpose of allowing ourselves to pause in awe and wonder.
My prayer for you this week is opportunity to pause in awe and wonder at a holy moment in your life. Maybe your moment will be extraordinary, maybe your moment will be simple: a realization that your heart is beating and your eyes can see and that the breath of the Divine rises and falls with your own. My prayer for you this week is to find a pause in time to look up, or look around, and allow yourself to be in awe.
April 5, 2024
One of my favorite professors in seminary used to say, "It takes a village to raise Jesus". He was referring to the stories of Scripture and just how many people saw and shared the news about the risen Christ before the beginnings of Christianity became a movement. I, however, now think of this catch-phrase every Holy Week. It takes all of us, walking Holy Week together, to make it what it is.
Logistically, there is organizing, setting up and taking down various liturgy settings, readers, musicians, bulletin-creators, bread-bakers, fire-makers, skit-presenters, Altar Guild magic-workers, treat-bringers, hospitality-sharers, dish-washers, egg-hiders, flower-donators, acolytes, vergers, service-leaders, preachers, ushers, counters, and, of course, service-attenders...do not underestimate that role!
It also takes a village to enter Holy Week spiritually. Our faith is grounded in community, and we are richer when we are together. The journey is more fully appreciated when it is shared.
One of my colleagues refers to the week after Easter as "Clergy Recovery Week". That definitely fits: Holy Week is a marathon done at sprint pace. AND I loved sharing this year's Lenten and Holy Week journey with each of you; it was one of my favorite Holy Weeks ever. Thank you for participating so fully - with your time, your energy, your presence, and most of all your hearts - and for sharing the journey. If it takes a village to raise Jesus, then we need not have any doubts.
My prayer for all of us this week is to see the risen Christ in and among our village.
March 22, 2024
It's the time of year when I tell you how great church is. And how you should come!
It's not meant to be a guilt trip, it's just that I get really nerdy about Holy Week. One thing I love about it is that Holy Week is completely countercultural. l love that Holy Week invites us to immerse ourselves in our holy story, somewhat apart from the busy-ness of the rest of the world. It is a lot of church in one week, and believe me, I understand that it might not work for you, for whatever reason: time, interest, logistics. Yet, this is the opportunity we have each year to actually live our Great Story. To allow it to direct the rhythm of our days and the beat of our hearts, for the span of a week.
Over the course of this week, we’ll wave palms and shout Hosanna, take time for contemplative prayer, and wash one another’s feet if we're brave enough to be that vulnerable. (It's not required but it sure is powerful.) We'll break bread and drink wine. We'll wince at Peter, and know he is us. We'll gather at the foot of the cross and allow ourselves to feel pain and loss. And then we'll wait. Our culture is not good at waiting (and neither am I) but on Holy Saturday, we do it anyway, as we anticipate holy mystery. On Saturday night we'll gather in the darkness, echoing the darkness just before Creation. We'll light the first fire, and then we'll start to retell the story from the very beginning, just as people have for thousands of years.
When Sunday morning breaks we'll ring bells and sing with joy and we'll celebrate that empty tomb. I love that we'll be celebrating something we cannot explain!
I think we tend to consider this as a week of grief and heaviness. And it does involve those elements. But It's also about the mystery, and the grittiness, and the radical transformation that the teachings Jesus invites us to live. It's an embodied experience of the challenges and joys we encounter when we throw ourselves into the Way of Love.
March 15, 2024
Well, let's just get to it: Jackie and Shadow's eggs are now past the point of viability. I won't say they won't hatch, because I do believe in miracles, but I have come to accept that the likelihood of them hatching without a miracle is very small. Very, very small.
It is probably too extreme to say I'm heartbroken, but my heart is at least bruised. Watching Jackie and Shadow tend their nest felt almost sacred to me, and I had been deeply anticipating the joy of watching new little eaglets hatch and grow. In the middle of a world that sees our share of troubling news, these eggs represented hope. It's hard to watch this particular hope fade. I am finding beauty, though, in the way Jackie and Shadow's story has united so many diverse people. It's beautiful to recognize that no matter their backgrounds, beliefs, or life circumstances, so many people out there are longing for the same simple hope I am.
When it became clear that these eggs will not hatch, Friends of Big Bear Valley, the organization hosting Jackie and Shadow's livestream, put out this statement: “Whether you are a new or long time viewer of Jackie and Shadow, we can all clearly see the genuine love and care this pair has for one another. Perhaps we can all take a page out of their love story and use it to draw us all together.”
Perhaps we can. It isn't lost on me that we'll soon enter Holy Week. At the heart of our Great Story is the promise that "what the caterpillar calls the end, the Master calls a butterfly". It's the promise that life is deeply good, even when it doesn't feel that way. At the heart of our story is a Love that unites us all, one that not even death can destroy.
My prayer for you this week is for hope to live in your heart, whatever you may be going through. My prayer for you is for you to see Love, freely offered, all around you. Even among the broken parts of life it's there, drawing you into community with every bit of Creation.