"Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way lies; and walk in it, and find rest for your weary souls."  Jeremiah 6:16

Last weekend I had two very different experiences of walking. I had reason to visit the Mall of America, the closest mall to our home. Now I am not one of the people who dislikes MOA…it is, what it is…and I do the majority of my "mall" shopping there. I did,however, become aware of how difficult it is to actually walk slowly there, to just "window shop".  The mall walkers, many of whom are walking for exercise, set a certain pace as they weave in and out of shoppers. The shoppers themselves also walk at a quick pace, the direction of the walkers divided just like the highway….right and left, not much crossing over. You go against the traffic at your own peril. It seems a shame in some ways. I know that the window dressers have spent great time and effort creating the window pictures, hoping, of course to lure us in. It seems lost in the pace of it all.

The next morning I went to the St. Paul Farmer’s Market and had a completely different experience. Those who walked the aisles stopped frequently, to talk, buy,ask questions or just to look, to admire vegetables, a baby in a stroller. The flowers were so beautiful, brilliant with color, almost impossible to take in….which may have been why there is so much stopping and starting. Sellers offered tastes of sweet peas, fresh strawberries,chocolate, organic cheese and fresh egg rolls. Another bottleneck occurred around those booths. No one seemed to mind. They either waited for a taste or till the human traffic picked up its pace again. The pace of walking at the market fit in the category of "moseying". No one seemed to have much of any place they needed to be……except right where they were.

I’m not sure what to make of these different experiences. It was just something I noticed, something I was aware of in the often unconscious act of walking. The Mall certainly has its place in the grand scheme of things and I will continue to shop there. But I know I really prefer those paths that connect me with the work of those whose hands have been plunged deep into the richness of soil…. those whose lives, connect with the ancient ways of seed and growth, goodness and bounty, food and beauty. It is there I find rest for my soul. 

"Brother Sun, I greet you, companion of my day. You are icon of the burning God. You are creature of her blazing hand. You are messenger of her flaming love. You are child of her scorching fire. I offer you my shadows. I turn my face to you like every greening thing. Search me with your fervent gaze, that I may blaze and yet not be consumed, thou burning fire, thou Brother Sun."  Jan L. Richardson

Heads up, literally,…..tomorrow is Summer Solstice, June 21st. What are your plans? Tomorrow marks the end of spring, the beginning of summer, the longest day of the year. It would be easy to let this day slip by like any other. It is, after all Wednesday, that mid-point between last weekend and next weekend. Instead I invite you to celebrate this day as many will around the world….those not so tied to clocks, the busyness of work, those not so removed, perhaps,  from their connection with the miracles of Creation.

For so many years, particularly in the church, we didn’t speak of Summer Solstice, this day held sacred by humans since before Christianity or institutionalized religion. This happened for all kinds of reasons. Over the last decades, however, we have  ‘re-discovered’ the gift of this celebration. This day, when we experience the most Light and the least darkness, can be an opportunity to stop and reflect on where that Light has shone in your life. It can be a time to take stock of the blessings that have graced your daily path and to give thanks.

Tomorrow, if you were to walk outside at noon, the Sun will be nearly directly overhead. You will have a very small shadow…..you will be bathed in light. It might be a good time to take a moment to offer gratitude for the ways your life has been blessed. Friends…..family…..health……work….. creativity….home…. beauty….play…. adventure……travel…. faith…..hope?  It can be a small but powerful act. Absorb the warmth of this offering of light and greening, growing power that is pure gift.

The Celts, who joyfully celebrate the Solstice, would offer a prayer of greeting on this day, this one written by Caitlin Matthews: "Glory of the Day-Star, hail! Lifter of the Light, Burnisher of the Sky. Gifts of love to earth are bringing, Summer’s shimmer, dew’s delight. Dancing be the heart within us, open be our souls to bliss, Courage vanquish every shadow, Greet midsummer with a kiss"

Alright. I admit it. I stole it. I was standing in line at my favorite bakery and I was perusing the bulletin board announcing yoga classes, daycare openings, a yard sale, and several notices of upcoming neighborhood meetings. Nestled among them was a postcard for The Space, a gallery and creative workshop in New Richmond, Wisconsin. The postcard was for an exhibit that actually happened in May entitled "A Place at the Table". The question that followed the title was "If your life was a table, what would your chair look like?"

So, I couldn’t help myself. I took down the card….it was outdated anyway and would soon be thrown in the trash. On the card was a chair, resting on velvety, green moss, surrounded by grapevines, that wound up the legs and back of the chair. The seat of the chair was covered with nails. Yikes!

If my life was table, what would my chair look like? I love questions like this. It probably stems from my earlier life in the theater where I spent countless hours in class being a sizzling piece of bacon or a gently flowing stream. These kinds of questions allow us to open our imagination wide. They require that we don’t think in a linear way but in metaphor, to think playfully rather than logically. So…………..

I would hope that my chair would be comfortable, soft, yet sturdy, built to last. I think I would choose a deep green upholstery with maybe a tiny understated leaf pattern……to represent growth and hide the dirt. By this time in my life I would like the chair to be worn on the arms, where my hands had rested and those of my children. Maybe the arms would be a little soiled, a memory of a graham cracker or an apple juice spill. The chair would have to also be a rocker…..there is nothing more calming and centering than the smooth glide of a rocking chair mirroring our heartbeat, our first womb home. This rocker would also have to be roomy….so someone else could join me if they needed to….or if I needed them to. My chair would need to be near a window so I could see all the seasons unfolding,watch the birds at the feeder, the chipmunks playing,snow and rain falling, and give thanks for each. My green, leafy, velvety chair would also have to be light enough for me to move now, when my arms are strong but also easy in years to come when they have lost some of their power .My chair would have known laughter, some tears, a sleepless night here and there, a lost dream or two and lots of miracles. It would have been present for all the important holidays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, all of our birthdays, and would hold in its fabric the love that family and friends have shared.

It’s Tuesday. Kind of an ordinary day. So, let me ask you a question. If your life was a table, what would your chair look like?

"Two or three things I know for sure, and one of them is that to go on living I have to tell stories, that stories are the one sure way I know to touch the heart and change to world."   Dorothy Allison

Gospel…..meaning ‘good news". We refer to the first four books of the Christian scripture as the Gospels according to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. In these books, these authors, tell of the ‘good news’ of Jesus through their own life experience and world view. Scholars will point out the similarities, differences and obvious "agenda" of each of these writers. Make no mistake about it….these are as much their stories as they are the story of Jesus and his followers.

Over the weekend I was privileged to help host Jeffrey Barnes, an actor and playwright who tells his own good news story.. His show Remember Who Made You was staged at Hennepin and as I sat through the performances I was once again struck with how each of us, whether we realize it or not, carries our own gospel story waiting to be shared with the world. We each have experiences that illuminate our understanding and experience of how the Holy One has moved in our lives. Unlike Jeffrey, we don’t always tell our story to an audience……and often not even to ourselves.

Human beings are innate storytellers. We need look no further than the walls of caves adorned with animals, scenes of battles and conquests, elaborate dances around fires, scenes of sacrifice and honoring, to know it is true. We have stories to tell and the world needs them…..especially our ‘good news’ stories.

Each day we can hear, if we want to, the unfolding life story of countless celebrities and their struggles and strife. I am not sure how helpful that really is, to us or to them. But each person has their own experience of those over-reported, always dramatic stories and if in some way good comes from hearing about these famous people, may that good be blessed.

My question is, what about the rest of us not-so-famous people? What about my gospel story, your gospel story? How will the Gospel According to Bob, or Susan, or…..you fill in the blank.….be told? Whether you write it down in a journal or simply make a mental note of how your story is unfolding, your experience is important. Whether you tell it to a friend or to a stranger,it is a story that needs to be told. Telling our stories, with all their struggles and pain, doubt and questioning, revelation and insight, helps us weave ourselves together as a people, help us not only to remember who made us, but to remember who we are. Telling our Gospel According to………..touches hearts and has the power to change the world.

Can we hear your story….please?

"At the beginning of each day, after we open our eyes to receive the light of that day, As we listen to the voices and sounds that surround us, We must resolve to treat each hour as the rarest of gifts, and be grateful for the consciousness that allows us to experience it, recalling in thanks that our awareness is a present from we know not where, or how, or why. When we rise from sleep let us rise for the joy of the true Work that we will be about this day, and considerately cheer one another on. Life will always provide matters for concern. Each, however, brings with it reasons for joy. Every day caries the potential to bring the experience of heaven;have courage to expect good from it. Be gentle with this life, and use the light of life to live fully in your time."
–from Always we Begin Again:The Benedictine Way of Living, John Acquisition II

I picked up this tiny book at a conference recently. It is not a particularly eye-catching book,no flashy cover or engaging photo drew me in. The title caught my eye, and my sensibilities. Always We Begin Again. To find that it was written by one busy lawyer,disillusioned with the church,who had stumbled upon The Rule of Benedict intrigued me. I, too, had been inspired by the Rule when in seminary….another tiny book written in sixth century Italy for a bunch of monks helping them create a way of living together, faithfully. The original Rule covers everything from how to worship together to how to cook and clean, how to deal with difficult, irresponsible people and most importantly how to begin again, each day, to live a life of gratitude and joy. It may have been one of the first "how-to" books that now flood bookstore shelves.

Always We Begin Again. There are nights when, as I go to sleep, I think back about the day’s events and am pleased, not only with what I have accomplished, but how they were accomplished. There are other nights, I admit,  I lay tossing and turning going over all the ways in which I might have said words differently, been kinder here, less judgmental there. As my eyes close, I actually look forward to the coming of the light, when I will, hopefully, get a chance to begin again.

Each hour….a rare gift. How often I forget. How often I move mindlessly from meeting to meeting, task to task, forgetting. Let us rise for the joy of our true Work. Whatever that Work….washing floors or faces, making meals or music, solving problems or crimes, meeting deadlines or people, saving coupons or lives……all with as much joy as we can muster, having the courage to expect goodness from the gift of it all.

What does this day hold for you? How will you go about doing your true Work? Where will you expect to find goodness, to bring goodness? Be gentle with this day…….for it holds a little glimpse of heaven, right here in our time.

Have a blessed weekend…………………..

"Up above me wayward angels, a blur of wings and grace. One for courage, one for safety, one for just in case."    Mary Chapin Carpenter

I pulled out a CD I hadn’t listened to for a long time. Yesterday ‘regular’ radio seemed unusually inane and MPR is in the midst of the pledge drive so….well, you get the picture. So I pulled out Mary Chapin Carpenter and listened to her throaty, haunting cross between country, folk and rock….always with deep lyrics that make you sit up and take notice.

On this particular disc the song that always grabs me is "Between Here and Gone", a melancholy ballad that explores the many ways we live in the now and the not yet. There are all kinds of images of journey, earthly life and heavenly life. It is a multi-layered piece of poetry, words that make you wonder what she was thinking or had experienced that made her write such lyrics.

The bridge of the song, which I’ve printed above, reminds me of the blessings we offer one another on any given day." I pray that you will have the courage it takes to get through this. Please keep this child safe as they test these boundaries. May you have the courage to know what to do and to do it. Safe travels, my friend." So much courage and safety is needed every day.

But then there are the "just in case" angels we call upon, the "just in case"prayers we offer……. just in case this doesn’t work out….just in case this diagnosis is not the one we want to hear….just in case there is no good decision, no better choice……just in case it may not get easier…..just in case I was wrong…..just in case I can’t control this…..so many times for "just in case".

May you be surrounded today by angels who bring you courage when you need it, by those who keep you and those you love safe this day…….and by that one wayward angel who walks with us, just in case.

Life is serious business. We know this because we see the headlines, watch the nightly news, try to take in the acts of violence and injustice present in our world. We have friends and family who are suffering from depression, illness, loneliness, any manner of dis-ease .Life is, indeed, serious business.

But life….to be life….is also filled with playful times, times for fun, relaxation, the sheer act of idleness, laughter, silly jokes…..’goofiness‘ as one friend of mine says.  "So I recommend having fun, because there is nothing better for people to do in this world than to eat, drink, and enjoy life. That way they will experience some happiness along with all the hard work God gives them.", the writer of Ecclesiastes(8:15) proclaims. No wonder we refer to this book as "wisdom literature."!

Church people can be particularly serious, charged with ‘saving the world’, it is very easy to take oneself quite seriously. So I was particularly taken with this quote from the most recent Alive Now! magazine in an article written by Dan Benedict. "The liturgy is God’s playground, and, by the Spirit, God calls us to ‘come out and play."

When was the last time you thought of getting up on a Sunday morning….driving to church….to play? Wow! Benedict goes on to describe this kind of play as those acts that help us "feel at home in the world", as a way of "finding our home and center", as something that helps us know "where we belong in the immensity of the universe."

As children, we all pretended to be Superman, Wonderwoman, a cowboy, a clown, a doctor, a nurse, a teacher, a mother, a father. We imagined ourselves being able to fly, we built castles, created bold and colorful pieces of art, we ran races, jumped rope……..we played.  All of this playing helped us grow into who we are, who we are becoming, find our place in the ‘immensity of the world.’ How is the way you play as an adult different from how you played as a child?

A very important teacher once said:"Unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kin-dom of heaven."(Matthew 18:1-3)

Seems pretty clear to me…….Come out and play!

I have been sitting in my office as a new playground is being built under my window. The large oak tree I have written about before will now provide shade for the children as they play.It is a beautiful sight…sturdy brown and green metal and heavy plastic with objects that spin, spots to slide, lots of places to climb, hide and rest. There is a tick-tack-toe board built within and a little ‘general store’ for quieter play. I look forward soon to hearing the sounds of children playing beneath my window.

What I heard today was not the sound of children playing but of whistling. One of the workers, digging or pouring cement, began whistling….."Oh, Susannah, Oh don’t you cry for me….for I come from Alabama with my banjo on my knee." I laughed out loud at my desk. It seemed an odd choice…if it was a choice…of songs. Perhaps the tune just floated into his consciousness and he let breath and puckered lips do the rest.

I am imagining that it is a joyful job to install playgrounds. To know that your work will bring joy, laughter, fun to all sorts of children. The playground’s placement under the perhaps 100 year old oak tree reminded me of the Shel Silverstein children’s book The Giving Tree. Do you remember it?

The story involves a young boy and a tree who love one another. The small boy finds shade, rest and fun climbing the branches of the tree.The tree stands watch as the boy becomes a teenager and pays less attention to it but the tree stands firm and watchful over the boy. As the young boy grows into a man he wants material things and asks the tree for money. The tree offer its apples for the young man to sell. Then the man wants to build a house and the tree offers its branches. Next the grown man wants to travel far away to see the world and the tree offers its trunk so the man can build a boat and sail away.

What remained of the tree, stood faithful and firm until the old man returns. The tree has given so much of itself but offers the old man what it has left……. its old stump to rest his weary body. It is a wonderful story of the cycles of life…….of sacrifice…..of faithfulness…..of love.

As our children play on this new playground, may the mighty oak watch them grow and thrive. And may we offer what they need……a place to question,play,doubt,test,contribute,offer their gifts,…..a place to be truly known and valued……a place of sacrifice, faithfulness, and love.

"We are made in God’s image. We find fulfillment in Community, not in isolation."

I’ve been thinking about community this morning. Yesterday as we gathered for worship in the backyard of our parsonage, I was struck with the fullness of community to which I belong. There were all those people I have known for years, those I had just met-‘visitors’, there were those younger than myself, those older, teenagers laying on blankets, babies and small children happy to sit on the grass and feel the freedom of a summer breeze. But yesterday morning our community was even fuller. We worshiped under the shade of the crab apple trees I mentioned earlier this spring, hostas danced all around us and the large Dutch Elms stood full of strength to the east and north of our gathering………adorned with large orange circles. We will lose them soon and we will be less for it.

Community………in a culture that so values individuality it is easy to continue to send ourselves messages that "I can do this alone" or " I have to make this happen" or " I , I,  I". You get the picture. But yesterday as I was privileged to stand in a circle of people that blessed those who were celebrating 25 & 37 years of marriage, I knew community is where I know God. As we blessed the courageous one celebrating three years and two days of sobriety, I knew that it was in this healing circle where the Holy shows up. As one of our young men stood proud and tall and told of his new job which will take him away from us, I knew that the circle moves and reshapes so we become the arms of the Divine holding him and others as they move out into the world. As the children, full of excitement for summer, celebrated last days of school, I knew that to be a part of a community that reflects the fullness of life’s joys and sorrows is what it means to be the Body of Christ.

From what we know of Jesus, he was about the work of creating community…..where ever he went crowds gathered, people ate and prayed, people were healed, people went out and told their friends, and they told theirs, and others were welcomed into the circle. In this living of community we become the ‘incarnation’ (God-with-us) of the Holy in our time.

Where do you find community? Where do you find God? May your circle be wide and full, holding you in the embrace of the Beloved One.

Yesterday was the last day of school in our district. As I sat having my morning coffee, I watched, as I have most mornings this year, the kindergartner that lives across the street get onto the bus for the last day of school. Next year he will be in first grade…..very different from kindergarten….as any six year old will tell you. As any parent will tell you. I have watched him grow over this year from tentative to bold as he  crossed in front of the bus, climbing on now to sit with friends he didn’t know nine months ago.

All over the cities, all across this country, high school seniors are graduating, celebrating twelve years of education, friendships, hardships, goals accomplished and others missed. Still others I know are graduating from college, their lives seeming to narrow-in a positive way- into a more defined pattern and understanding of who they are, what they will do, how they will evolve, what life is asking of them, what they are willing to contribute, sacrifice.

This cycle, I believe, does not stop with those ‘commencements’. Each day is an opportunity to step onto the bus for the first time, to move your mortarboard tassel from right to left, to dream once again of the answer to the question ‘now what?’ This cycle is not confined in the years we have walked the Earth….it is the gift that comes with the rising of each new day and our commitment to our own unfolding at whatever age we find ourselves.

It is written in The Talmud: "Every blade of grass has its Angel that bends over it and whispers, "Grow, grow." Whether that blade is newly sprung from the seed, has been tromped on countless times, or has withstood the winds of time, the urging is still the same.

As people of faith, we are called daily to bring the message of hope,abundant living and growing into the world….to those who need to hear, for those who long to hear, for those who have never heard. Every day is a Commencement……………now what?

"I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."  John 10:10

Blessings on your weekend…………..