Thank you, Cohort 802

Last evening was the last official class of my Nyack ADCP experience...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After 14 months of weekly fellowship and interactions with some of the most beautiful brothers and sisters i have had the privilege of getting to know, it is going to be so difficult letting go. This experience has convinced me that Jesus was right...people learn best in small groups. I not only learned stuff from my brilliant professors, i gained priceless insight from my 12 fellow sojourners.

Look at the photo carefully and you will see a bunch of dreamers! But, as Bill says, if we can dream it...and then envision it...by the grace of God and the encouragement found in fellowship...it is never too late to join in the Living river dance...

7:40:21 AM  #

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The Few, the Called, the Consumed

"It is not enough for the priests and ministers of the future to be moral people, well trained, eager to help their fellow humans, and able to respond creatively to the burning issues of their time. All of that is very valuable and important, but it is not the heart of Christian leadership. The central question is, are the leaders of the future truly men and women of God, people with an ardent desire to dwell in God's presence, to listen to God's voice, to look at God's beauty, to touch God's incarnate Word and to taste fully God's infinite goodness?"

 

 

 

 

 

Henri Nouwen, Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership

1:53:18 PM  #

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Hungering for the Holy

I have this goofy expression i say sometimes when i haven't eaten in a while: "I'm so hungry my belly button is touching my backbone." It's one of those funny sayings (according to my husband, we Joneses have a lot of them!) that i picked up sometime in my youth, though i don't remember where i heard it first.

Well, I was just getting started in a new philosophy book - Roots of Wisdom by Helen Buss Mitchell - when, lo and behold, an explanation to my goofy expression:

"He [Siddhartha of the Gautama clan] spent some time with monks who lived in extreme asceticism, fasting and discipling their bodies while they practiced yogic meditation. Although he fasted to the point that the texts claim he could feel his backbone when he sucked in his stomach and touched his navel, Siddhartha did not find what he was looking for" (p. 5).

OK, so i have never been this hungry...for food, that is. But, i do feel that gnawing sense when i haven't spent enough time with the Forever One. St.Catherine of Siena was so consumed with her passion for Christ, that in her final days (she was 33 when she died) tradition says that she lived only on the wine and the bread from the daily Mass. Holy Anorexia, Batman!

12:33:02 PM  #

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Vertigo

My father-in-law chided me for not updating my blog.

"But, I've been working really hard!!!" I complained.

Well, OK, since it is Alfred Hitchcock's birthday (August 13, 1899), how about this cool photo that Sean took during our anniversary visit to Winterthur:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Look up, for your redemption draweth nigh..." Luke 21:27,28

10:10:45 AM  #

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I was skimming Thomas G. Bandy's "Moving Off the Map: a field guide to changing the congregation" last night when i was caught up by this paragraph:

"The experience of relationship with Jesus is actually more like eros than agape. It is a rush of fulfillment, rather than sacrifice. It is a joyful creativity. It is an ecstacy of union. It is constant preoccupation with "the Beloved" through every minute of the day. It is the irrational passion articulated in Song of Songs and the love that is "to die for" articulated in Romans 14:8. Such an experience of the divine is an alternate thread running through the history of Christian thought and one that has been recoverd by many feminist theologians today" (27).

It spoke to the "Mary" side of my Mary-Martha mix. Like the first time i saw a photograph of The Ecstacy of St. Therese, i was drawn to the imagery, longing for that depth - that intimacy of relationship that Theresa of Avila had with Jesus. It is so much easier for me to relate to Jesus like Martha did:

"Look at me Jesus! Aren't I working hard for you? See all the plates I can spin...all the tricks I can do?" (read story...)

But what i really long for is to be still and know Him and really believe He loves me not for what i can do but simply that i am. 

8:27:34 AM  #

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Almost 1am...just got home from the rave...too old to party til 2 and still get up to cook breakfast for the crew.

Talking to Brandon at the rave...he said his momma wouldn't go to a rave,
Christian or otherwise. He said, "My momma doesn't even know what a rave is..."

I said, "She would if you'd been lost in one."

 

Crystal, my girl, your testimony blessed me tonight.

My God, thank you for rescuing my girl out of the drugs
and the shame and giving her the clean beat back. 

My God: my Jesus, You are the rock. I love you.

 

 

1:00:59 AM  #

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NIGHT OF SPRING

Slow, horses, slow, As through the wood we go- We would count the stars in heaven, Hear the grasses grow: Watch the cloudlets few Dappling the deep blue. In our open palms outspread Catch the blessed dew. Slow, horses, slow, As through the wood we go- All the beauty of the night We would learn and know! Thomas Westwood

11:13:01 PM  #

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Jesus Loves Me, This I Know

Mentoring Women Leaders for the Emerging Church

Christians for Biblical Equality

Little Girls in Church

Women Doing Theology

Women: find your voice. Speak out of the cyber-silence. Get your cyber-shout on: BLOG.

Untap the exponential value of the Social Capital of Blogspace.

9:52:59 AM  #

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OPEN MY EYES, LORD

On some liturgical calendars, they call this "Bright Tuesday" which seems funny to me since the gospel reading is taken from Luke chapter 24, the story about Jesus on the road to Emmaus. I don't think his companion - Cleopas, to be exact - was too "bright" that day, do you? When Jesus approaches them, after his resurrection, and asks what they are talking about, Cleopas responds with a, "Duh? Where have you been stranger...don't you watch CNN?"

 But, instead of saying, "Hey! Who do you think you're talking to?" Jesus plays with Cleopas and his friend.

"What's the buzz?...tell me what's happening..."

READ THE WHOLE STORY: Luke 24:13-35     

 

Sestina* of Cleopas by Gilbert Morris 

Well, don't stand there - come in, come in!
We're all just brothers here that know the Lord.
You smile at that? They've told you I'm the man
Who didn't know the Lord himself one day?
That's right, my boy. Cleopas is my name,
And I'm the fool who muffed, O such a chance!

What a joke! - Cleopas miss a chance!
I will not boast, but I must say that in
Emmaus I've made myself, oh, quite a name,
(In business, of course). I never know the Lord
Until two years ago, this very day.
That was the time I went to hear the man

They called Jesus. My boy, I'm not the man
For sermons, but I never missed a chance
To hear a would-be king! But on that day,
That day I heard a king- and he came in
And made himself a priest - a prophet - Lord
Of my heart - Jesus! What a name!

But there was more to him than just a name.
We couldn't tell if he was God or man.
But, in any case, I knew the Lord.
Sermons, miracles - I never missed a chance!
That's why it's quite a quandary I'm in-
Why I failed to know the Lord that day.

No matter that he didn't tell his name.
I'd know him in the dark! But on that day
He was a stranger. What a world we're in!
We vow our love to someone - woman or man -
But with a change of mood - a fretful chance
And we are strangers - as I was to the Lord.

Well, my boy, I've come to think the Lord
Comes often in disguise so day by day
We may be jostling God! Oh, what a chance
We take - to judge a person by his name
Or face. We're all immortal, every man!
That's the sort of world God put us in!

I saw the Lord - but never knew his name.
But since that day, I look at every man.
I'll miss no other chance - when God drops in!

*The sestina is an old fixed form of poetry, dating as far back as the twelfth century. It consists of six six-line stanzas and a three-line concluding stanza. The ending words of the first stanza are repeated throughout each subsequent stanza in a set pattern. The same six words appear in the concluding three-line stanza, two in each line.

9:23:12 AM  #

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HOME FREE

He died on Good Friday morning. He said he was going to.

For months, my Uncle Carl was misdiagnosed with everything from post-operative stress syndrome to anorexia. Three or four days before he passed away, the doctor said, "It's pancreatic cancer."

I went to visit him in the hospital on that Maundy Thursday evening in the Spring of 1987. His face was gaunt, his body frail. He reminded me of a photograph of a P.O.W. from the Vietnam War. Yet there was an unmistakable glimmer in his eyes.

I loved my Mother's brother so much. He taught me how to ballroom dance. We acted in a community theater troupe together. He even sang in a church choir that I directed. As a free and forgiven recovering alcoholic, he was my walking example of the love of Christ.

In that hospital room I wanted to be strong. Instead, I wept, overcome with grief and unable to speak.

"Oh, now, are you crying for me?" he rasped, his eyes piercing my heart. "Now, now, don't you be sad for me. I'm sad for you, darlin'. In a little while, I'm going home, but you have to stay. Now tell me, what's today?"

"Thursday," i whispered, reaching for the tissue box on the bed stand.

"Thursday, yes...yes...one more day and I'm going home to be with my Jesus. He told me I could come home on Friday....yes, only one more day." His eyes focused on somewhere I couldn't see. His face was smooth with a peace I did not have in that moment.

And he was right. He did go home the next morning. Perhaps knowing ahead of time helped him to bear the excrutiating pain of his last  days on earth. Maybe the knowing ahead of time helped Jesus to bear his last days, too...I don't know...maybe it's not for me to know. But that evening in the hospital, my Uncle's eyes became windows into a very real eternity...an eternity filled with hope and light and love and, most of all,  home.

9:32:33 AM  #

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The Basin and the Towel

It's Maundy Thursday, which, for me, is always an evening of deep reflection. Tonight Sean and i will be leading worship for a service at Cedar Ridge that will include a footwashing. To prepare my heart, i revisited the story in John 13 this morning:

"And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, 'Lord, are you going to wash my feet?'

Jesus answered, 'You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.' 

Peter said to him, 'You will never wash my feet.'

Jesus answered, 'Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.'

...After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, 'Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord- and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.' " (verses 3-8, 12-15)

Do you know my first thought when April asked us to do this service? It was, "Should i get a pedicure?"

I never mean to be so shallow. I guess i'm just slow to embrace the larger message... like Simon Peter, maybe? It's hard for me to be humbled...to willingly place the filthiest parts of me into my Lord and Teacher's terribly tender hands. To be patient while he scrubs off the dung of depression and the crud of complacency.

Yet afterwards, i find myself compelled by the smarting-pink of my freshly scrubbed flesh to shed my outer shell that i might be-towel and be-friend another's pair of filthy feet. As Michael Card says in the song below, it is indeed "impoverished power that sets the soul free."

 

The Basin and The Towel  by Michael Card

And the call is to community...

In an upstairs room
A parable is just about to come alive
And while they bicker about who's best
With a painful glance He'll silently rise
Their Savior Servant must show them how
Through the will of the water
And the tenderness of the towel

And the call is to community
The impoverished power that sets the soul free
In humility to take the vow
That day after day we must take up
The basin and the towel

In any ordinary place
On any ordinary day
The parable can live again
When one will kneel and one will yield
Our Savior Servant must show us how
Through the will of the water
And the tenderness of the towel

And the space between ourselves sometimes
Is more than the distance between the stars
By the fragile bridge of the servant's bow
We take up the basin and the towel

And the call is to community
The impoverished power that sets the soul free
In humility to take the vow
That day after day we must take up
The basin and the towel

9:34:11 AM  #

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He Knows My Name

Last Sunday, Pastor Keith suggested that we take our time this week...that we don't rush forward to the jubilation of Easter morning, but instead read along in the Gospel of John, trying to connect with the progression of holy week. So, i've been reading along, trying to "be there."

Today, as i read the words of the 17th chapter, i decided to do a brave, brave thing and insert my name in place of "they" and "those." Jesus is talking to his father...he knows the hour is near...He knows the mission is almost accomplished...in this personalized version He talks to his father about...me:

John 17:1-11 (NRSV), personalized

"Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that Donna may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.

I have made your name known to Donna, whom you gave me from the world. Donna is yours, and you gave her to me, and she has kept your word. Now she knows that everything you have given me is from you.; for the words that you gave to me I have given to Donna, and she received them and knows in truth that I came from you; and Donna has believed that you sent me. I am asking on her behalf; I am not asking on behalf on the world, but on behalf of Donna, whom you gave me, because she is yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine; and I have been glorified in them. And now I am no longer in the world, but Donna is in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect Donna in your name, whom you have given me, so that she may be one with me, as we are one."

He Knows My Name by Tommy Walker

I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
My life was in his hands

He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
and He hears me when I call.

I have a Father
He calls me his own
He'll never leave me
No matter where I go.

1:29:50 PM  #

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SIMPLY NAKED: SIMPLY FREE

Carlo Carretto, in his book about Francis of Assisi entitled, I, Francis , observed:

"At least once in our lives we have dreamed of becoming saints, of being saints.

Stumbling under the weight of the contradictions of our lives, for a fleeting moment we glimpsed the possibility of building within ourselves a place of simplicity and light.

Horrified at our own selfishness, we burst asunder the chains of the senses, at least in our desire, and glimpsed the possibility of true freedom and authentic love.

Bored by a middle-class, conformist life, we suddenly saw ourselves out on the streets of the world - bearers of a message of light and love, love of all sisters and brothers, and ready to offer, on the altar of unconditional love, the witness of a life in which the primacy of poverty and love would make communicating and relating an easy matter" (vii).

This reminded me of that scene from Chapter Seven of  The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, where Eustace is trying and trying to shed himself of the dragon skin he'd wound up in as a consequence of greed. You remember it?

"So I scratched away for the third time and got off a third skin, just like the two others, and stepped out of it. But as soon as I looked at myself in the water I knew it had been no good.

"Then the lion said - but I don't know if it spoke- 'You will have to let me undress you.'...the very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off" (C.S. Lewis, pp. 108-109).

The first time i read this, i was 19 years old, in a fishing lodge in Newfoundland with my family. We had been swimming all day in a pristine river, watching the wild mink fish for salmon. Satiated from an abundant supper, i was cozied up in my down sleeping bag next to the field stone fireplace...as i read, i began to flush...my ears felt hollow...was i embarrassed?...the tears stung my cheeks...seeing Eustace, i saw myself...

Who was this great lion, this frightening Aslan, that his mercy was so severe? It was the first of many longings to be still enough for the "lion" to liberate me from the uncomfortably familiar skins of "stuff." 

11:29:38 PM  #

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Something to Remember By...

I stood with the other adoring fans at the backstage entrance waiting for the *stars* to greet their fans. One of the other mothers looked at the two bouquets of roses in my arms and then, spotting the third object, tiltled her head quizzically and asked, "Spoon?"

"Yes, wooden spoon," i whispered, " a Baker's spoon."

"Oh, what a great idea, " the mother of the "Baker's Wife" responded.

"Waaaay back in the day...when I was in high school doing musicals," i told her, " my mother would put something little that reflected my character in each of my bouquets on opening night...that way, when the flowers faded, i still had a memento of her affection and affirmation. I still have some of them."

"That is a great idea," the baker's wife's mother responded, "I wish I had thought of that."

"Well," i admitted, "Andrew warned me not to bring him flowers...but i just had to bring the memento. After all, it was his nana's idea first."

The short conversation made me remember my mother's radiant pride at my youthful accomplishments and how thoughtful she had been to give me little trinkets that have, through time, transformed into treasures. That same sense of prideful pleasure was surging through me now, thanks to my son.

"The Baker" and his "Wife," began to greet their adoring fans, along with the rest of the cast of my son's high school's production of  "Into The Woods." I gave a bouquet to the "Baker's Wife" and one to "Rapunzel" (my son's girlfriend in real life).

Andrew, the "Baker" -my son-  looked at the ribbon-adorned spoon quizzically, "A spoon?"

"Well, you told me not to get you flowers...it's not just a spoon...it's a baker's spoon for the best baker in the house. You were so wonderful!"

He laughed, gave me a big squeeze and whispered in my left ear, "I love you, too, Mom."

10:12:50 PM  #

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The Technology Generation Gap

“Because of young people’s appetite for such devices, we are likely to see an even greater shift toward devices that ‘do it all’ – compact computers equipped for mobile Internet connections, cell phones that receive and transmit real-time visual images, and vast music and movie libraries on portable and home-based technologies. What remains to be seen is in what ways technology will continue to alter the generational personalities of Busters and especially Mosaics. In what ways will technology change self-expression, personal fulfillment, and depth of relationships? And how will their entertainment-driven and mobility-oriented lifestyles modify their spiritual experiences and expectations?"  for more of The Barna Update:  4/3/03 ...

If the idea of "talking" to your kids through the computer seems foreign, ask them how they connect with their "tribe." Instant messaging and e-mail win hands down over phone time today because the kids can "talk" to many friends at the same time (even friends who've moved across the world!) for no extra $.

It's never been easy to bridge the generation gap, but the responsibility always lies with the grown-up (let's hope as the parent that means you) to learn the new language. So, for the sake of connecting with your kids and grandkids, might i make a suggestion?

"Git On-line, little children...Git On-line!"

...besides, if you're really hungry for face-to-face time, invite them for one of your famous home-cooked meals...they can't get that off the internet...yet!

9:09:55 AM  #

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INTO THE WOODS

Andrew Zarba, starring as "The Baker" into Atholton High School's production of INTO THE WOODS Friday, April 4th at 7:30 p.m. and Sunday, April 6th at 3 p.m. See you there! Andrew says,"Thanks Auntie Doreen and Auntie Sue for the notes...see you in Disneyworld!" Ryan Labanz says of Friday evening's performance, "It was like...professional!"

(Yes, this is a shameless plug for my very own son...isn't he cute?...see you at the show!)

10:09:48 PM  #

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It's Wednesday. I love Wednesdays. On Wednesday mornings i spend about an hour having a blast with a group of twenty or so people whose average age is 80. They make me feel so young....and they constantly remind me to disregard information from my teenagers to the contrary. They are my Seniors Chorus.

I have the privilege of conducting an extraordinary group of people (my mother-in-law included) in songs from the '30s, '40s and even some modern tunes from the '50s at one of the thriving Seniors centers in my county. We have so much fun singing and laughing and "breathing" correctly. (Yes, Free Church, they even sing "Mickey-Minnie-Goofy Donna" just like you used to do!)

The best part of chorus, though, is the amazing stories i come away with...stories of lives lived in both remarkable and unremarkable, yet real ways. A few weeks ago, one of the women who serve lunch at the center was listening in on our rehearsal. She is in her late 70s and flushed with excitement by the end of her "private concert."

"Oh, listening to those songs brought me back to my younger days on the boardwalk at Atlantic City. It wasn't a gambling place then, Atlantic City, but song "palaces"...they were wonderful. All of the up-and-comings would strut their stuff for the big deals...it was somethin'."

Her New Jersey accent seemed to come out stronger in the excitement of remembering, "I even got to hear Rosemary Clooney before she was anybody. Gosh, I haven't thought of that time in years..." The twinkle in her eyes and the look of fond reflection on her face made the morning's efforts so rewarding.

This morning, one of my altos recounted in her thick German accent, "Music saved our lives during the war. Yah, my father was out of work for fourteen years and we had no radio and no money to do anything, so we would sing and play our harmonicas together each evening. Music saved us from despair."

Was it Martin Luther who said, "Music is a fair and glorious gift of God?" It's so true. 

 

Martin Luther, the musician

2:38:37 PM  #

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I took our youngest daughter for her learner's permit today. Before we left the house i asked her if she had read the manual.

"Yeah, last week."

"So, you're ready then?"

"I'm going to study on the way in the car," she said, adding, "you know, my friend studied for four hours and failed. Then she didn't study at all and took the test again and passed."

"But you read the book, right?"

"Right," she said.

As we were driving, she was perusing her book and remarked, "Hey, I didn't know you couldn't wear headphones while driving."

"I thought you read the book."

"Well, yeah, I mean, you know, I skimmed it."

She didn't pass the test and will have to retake it.

It reminded me of how many times i've neglected to listen to the voice of wisdom, skimmed for a pertinent Scripture verse or two and fallen flat on my face. It reminded me that, if i want to be ready for all of life's tests, i need to take the time - everyday - to study the Book.

 

Buy the Book

 

4:41:11 PM  #

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My sweet husband set this weblog up for me!

He must love me a lot ...

8:09:28 PM  #

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