"Give us grace in our changing day
to stand by the temple that is the present church,
the noisesome temple
the sometimes scandalised temple that is the present
church,
listening sometimes to what again seems mumbo jumbo.
Make it our custom to go
till the new outline of your Body for our day
becomes visible in our midst."

~George Macleod, founder of modern-day Iona Community

I have spent my entire life in the church. Unlike many of my peers, I never rebelled against it, never thought it was irrelevant. Even in college, a time when most young adults have other things to do like sleep in mostly, I went to church with some regularity. To my friends this made me interesting or simply odd, depending on their own experience of this fragile institution. In some ways, that same perception could still be true. Many of my neighbors and friends do not attend church. They don't see its relevance or are so overcome by its perceived hypocrisy that they wouldn't darken the doors.

Churches are institutions like any other…full of frail humans, muddling through what it means to create any kind of life together, developing systems that can work miracles or great injustice, declaring belief that might encompass all involved but rarely does. The church at this point in the history of the world seems to be particularly fragile. Most mainline denominations are dwindling. Generations are trying to figure out how to work and worship side-by-side with one another, finding relevance and the Holy together in one place. Many communities are simply trying to find ways to maintain the aging and expensive buildings they have come to call home in troubled economic times.The whole situation gives one pause and lots of fuel for prayer.

Just down the street from my office my Lutheran brothers and sisters are meeting to decide what it means to them to be church. They are voting and praying and, you can bet,singing and voting and praying some more. Certainly they carry with them the fragility of inheritance and a fervent hope for the future. What is the church to be in the next decade? How will we all live together in love and mutual respect? Where is the voice of God heard in our time? How are we then so to behave and believe?

From church history I know these are not new questions or struggles. And I suspect they will be lived out over and over again in the next decades as people, hopeful people, try to once again understand the movement of the Holy in their time. That is why I continue to stay in love with this broken yet blessed institution. It is the one place where I can come together with others as fragile as myself to keep my eyes and heart open to the One who breathed us all into being. And every now and then, together, we get a glimpse of what it means to live in the presence, the beautiful presence, of God.

At this moment I am sending my prayers toward the gathered Lutherans…….blessed be.

"Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons ev'rywhere
I've looked at clouds that way…….
I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
Its cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all."
~Joni Mitchell

The waning summer days make for great cloud watching. Have you noticed how the clouds these days are filled with amazing color…..soft pinks, deep lavenders, a tinge of yellow, sometimes even a rich purple….all held in the fluff of billowy white against the brilliant blue sky? It is worth paying attention to this sky show. It won't be evident in the same way come September. I don't know what causes the difference, simply that it seems like pure gift to me.

I don't know if it is the late summer atmosphere that has also brought the gift of my night time dreams which have been rich and wild recently. Vivid dreams, many of them seeming to be important message-filled wanderings that leave me pondering them all day. It is times like these that I wish I knew more about dreams, how to interpret them, what I am supposed to do with them. My dreams have been filled with important people, Jesus even,though he didn't look anything like any artistic image I have ever seen. I simply knew it was him and I was neither surprised nor frightened by his presence. It simply felt normal that he was there.A regular guy, a part of my every day life.

Then there are the dreams filled with people I don't know, have never seen before. How does the mind do that, conjuring up people you don't recognize? Is there a place in our brains that stores up images we encounter but don't register and use them to create middle-of-the-night films in our heads?

Last night I dreamed I was taking one of my co-workers' young son to Door County. He is really only a toddler, just over a year old. I was excited to be taking him to one of my favorite places, showing him the water, the stones on the beach, allowing him to soak in the fresh, clean air. As I carried this little one out onto the beach, my eyes recognized his parents, just out of eyesight, further down along the shore, looking on with protective eyes.

Dreams….clouds…..images and illusions…..all a part of the Mystery. I might surmise that Jesus' presence in my dreams was a gift of night time faith, an affirmation of a fellow traveler. And all those faces I don't recognize, a reminder of the invisible lines of connection we hold with all those who travel the path with us. And that little boy on the beach might just be my hope for our youngest who will soon travel off to his own adventures on the Pacific Northwest shores filled with its own stones and fresh breezes. My dream may have allowed me to know that, though he may be far away, we will always be just down the shore looking on with support and love, just out of sight, yet near.

And then again, if clouds illusions I recall, I really may not know anything at all about clouds or dreams. But I can receive them for the gift they are.

"Theodicy…..the branch of theology that defends God's goodness and justice in the face of the existence of evil; an attempted answer to the problem of evil; the justification of a deity, or the attributes of a deity, especially in regard to the existence of evil and suffering in the world."

Last week I found myself wrestling with what, in 'churchy' circles are referred to as questions of theodicy. The basic question is this: If God is good and God is love, why is there evil and suffering? Why doesn't God 'do' something when bad things happen to good people? I found myself once again confronted with these questions as I attended the funeral of a friend who had been killed in a tragic accident, a friend who had struggled in many ways throughout her life, and it simply seemed wrong that she died in such a horrible way. Of course, it was wrong,no question, but the 'question behind the question, can often be, so where was God in all this?

And then yesterday as our group that plans worship read through the scriptures for next Sunday's service, once again we were confronted with evil in the world,however that might present itself. In book of Ephesians, evil comes from the devil and the task at hand is to overthrow the devil. Since most of the folks present saw the devil as an ancient creation of people to make sense of evil, we found ourselves spinning around in this theodicy question again. To be able to pin the problem on something outside ourselves seemed too easy, allowing us to relinquish responsibility. We were all in the same boat in believing 'the devil didn't do it.'

Last evening as I was reflecting on all the events of the past week, I found myself swimming in the words and intentions of those who have tried to make sense of a world that isn't fair,is often cruel and violent, that doesn't add up. I realized that, with all the progress we have made as human beings, some of the biggest life questions, still elude us. It is humbling, isn't it?

As my eyes shut for the night's sleep, I was no further along with the theodicy question than I suspect anyone else is. But at least I hang my heart and life on this: in the places of the most pain, the most violence, I believe the Holy stands in the midst of it all, crying out. In those times of deep darkness and despair, I trust the healing hand of the One who dreamed us into being to be holding on. In the times when we humans are so removed from the deep knowledge that we are created in the image of the Sacred that we are capable of unspeakable acts, that same One looks on, hoping beyond hope that we will turn our face toward the mirror that will allow us to remember and be made whole once again.

In that moment, it is not about the devil or anyone or anything else. It is about standing face to face with the One who reflects back only kindness, only goodness, only love, asking us to go and do likewise. 

"Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get out there and walk-better yet, run!-on the road God called you to travel. I don't want any of you sitting around on your hands. I don't want any of you strolling off, down some path that goes nowhere. And mark that you do this with humility and discipline-not in fits and starts, but steadily, pouring yourselves out for each other in acts of love, alert at noticing differences and quick at mending fences. You were all called to travel on the same road and in the same direction, so stay together, bout outwardly and inwardly. Everything you are and think and do is permeated with Oneness. But that doesn't mean you should all look and speak and act the same." Ephesians 4(selected verses) The Message

In our worship over the last several weeks we have been reading from the apostle Paul's letter to the Ephesians. We have been using the wonderful paraphrase of Eugene Peterson in The Message. I love the way he has made words many of us have read for so many years, sometimes to the point of not hearing them, come alive in new ways. I also love the way his words invite those new to the scriptures into the words by using language that is more approachable.

Paul's letter to these ancient people was meant to heal the rifts that happen when what we say we believe and how we behave don't match up. Ever had that experience? Ever been in a situation with someone who claims to believe deeply in something but whose behavior doesn't seem to quite add up? Ever been that person? I certainly have been.

This man who loved Jesus and tried with all his might to follow the Way of this one who showed him the face of God, reminds us that we are all traveling the same road….the road of life. He urges us to remember that, as creations of the Holy One, this journey is not meant to be traveled alone but together. Not only is it safer it is also more fun. When troubles come, it means we can reach out and grab someone's hand. When there is dancing to be done, it means we have a partner or even a circle of people to join us.

Staying together also means we are confronted with all the differences that are implanted in our DNA….another gift. It means that along the path there will be those who see the world differently, often very differently, from the way we do. This can be a challenge or a gift depending on our 'humility and discipline'. It will mean we don't always get to be right or have the final say. But it does mean we are still held by that eternal Oneness, even when we refuse to recognize it or flat out deny it.

It seems our culture spends a significant amount of energy in trying to find ways that divide and pit humanity against one another. There are probably many people who have much to gain from this way of living. But in the end, I believe, it will always fail. Instead, what will always prevail, is the slow walking, one foot in front of the other, of humans stepping out each day, on the path of love and kindness, compassion and justice, reaching out for the hand of our fellow travelers. What does, in some eternal way, matter is that we stay together, celebrating our differences, looking for the ways those very ways we are unique bring us to the creative moments we need for the healing of the world.

The path opens before us all this day. There is no time for sitting on our hands. The world beckons. There is work to be done. It will be an adventure if we remember to stay together.

Have a blessed weekend……………….

"Late summer, and once again the egrets have come back.
They stand in the marsh like white flowers.
Like flowers slowly flying, they cross over the dark water."
~Mary Oliver

While walking through the Loring Park earlier this week, I saw an egret land in the water. I am not sure I had ever seen these graceful looking white birds in flight. At least I had not seen one so near I could hear its wings, which is what caught my attention in the first place. Over head I heard, and felt, the presence of wind being cut by wings, of soaring. As my eyes captured the bird in its last graceful flap before landing, I saw its seemingly delicate legs dancing loosely before stiffening to find a solid resting place among the reeds and fallen branches under an oak tree. This is the common way I have seen egrets, standing as still as death, yet full of such contemplative beauty, it takes your breath away.

The egret's flight was freedom in its purest form. To be able to lift yourself above the earth, to soar,to know the gift of flight, of being carried on the invisibility of air. What human can fathom such freedom? There is such faith in the flying and in the landing. Seeing it I took a deeper breath, my shoulders relaxed, what had seemed harsh and impossible earlier in the day, now seemed less so. I had been blessed by this non-human one who was simply being itself.

I am thinking of this egret today, its grace, its freedom, the surety with which it flew and with which it found ground once again. There have been many passages over the past weeks, loss of dear friends, of saints who have held my life in special ways. Passages of children leaving for far-off places, leaving a silence that is palpable as they head into the adventure that is their life. The inevitable passage of the season of summer into autumn that is hovering in the morning air now.

Today I am reaching out to the egret for another blessing. I am praying for the grace of freedom for all those who are in passages of any kind. May they know the ecstatic sense of being held by the Invisible. I am praying for the gift of the solid earth to hold each of us through all life's passages, giving us something to plant our bare feet upon., to remind us that we are nestled in the Ground of All Being.  And I am praying to be filled with the sheer joy that must come from being able to fly, to see above,to be lifted in faith and to be held on the Breath that surrounds and fills us all.

So be it. Blessed be.

"Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify, simplify! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million, count half a dozen, and keep accounts on your thumbnail."Henry David Thoreau

Do you find that it is easy to fritter away your days? Your weeks? Your years? I was struck by this quote of Thoreau's while reading through a magazine the other day. It probably just hit me square between the eyes because I was walking about with a 'to-do' list of details clutched firmly in my fist. While I am also sure that the items on my list had a certain importance, after reading this quote I began to wonder.

What might I do to simplify? What might you? What would it take for me to stop frittering away precious time in the pursuit of details that may not really be important. Ahh, importance. There is the real issue, isn't it? What is it I find to be truly important? What do you? This assessment takes longer to produce than a to-do list so it is often easily avoided.

It is probably a fact that none of us will be able to go off into the woods to our own Walden as Thoreau did. So, whatever is truly important must be lived out right here in the midst of daily life, the stuff of work, family, friends, laundry, housework, shopping, cooking, the list goes on and on. Are these the details Thoreau was speaking of?

Somehow, I don't think so.I think he was really encouraging humans to take the time to peel away the layers of what doesn't matter to them and to focus on what does. At least I pray this is so. Each of us would answer the question differently. To spend the minutes of a day engaged in what one loves is to live the simple life. To create something of beauty….art, a meal, a friendship…is to live the simple life. To breathe deeply and savor the expanse of chest and lungs, exhaling into gratitude, is to live the simple life. To choose just enough words to say I love you, or better yet to show that love is our intention without words, is to live the simple life. So many ways to simplify.

What important details of your life would fit on your thumbnail? I'm looking at mine right now. It is a fairly small space to write what it ultimately important to me. But if I could imagine writing on this digit space, with, say, permanent ink, I might write….kindness, peace, hope, love. If I paid attention to those details alone, it would bring a very full life.

Last night was one of those restless nights. For a variety of reasons, I had difficulty falling asleep. Since this rarely happens to me(I am known as a 'good sleeper') I am always surprised by the process of flipping and flopping, tossing and turning, punching the pillow, and repeat. During all that activity my mind went over the things undone the previous day, what needs to be accomplished today, the bill I must remember to pay, the phone calls that are imperative, and on and on. I spent time breathing deeply, noticing my breath, willing this rhythm to take me into the realm of sleep. I prayed, first for the many I know in need of prayer, and then, for myself, that sleep would come.

Finally, of course, when I had given up the fight, I was able to relax into the rest. I slept soundly until about 5:15 a.m. when I realized I was being serenaded by a choir of birds. Outside the windows, the early risers were welcoming and honoring the gift of another new day. I listened intently to the different songs I heard…..one sweet, trill that led into a fluttering sound, three short calls followed by a rest and then one more call for good measure. In my semi-restful state, I felt like Cinderella with the birds twirling about my head, carrying ribbons in their beaks. The birds, however, were unaware of me. They were only doing what it is they must do to greet the day, what the were created to do.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to have such a ritual for beginning each day? Instead of the tumble out of bed, hop in the shower, throw on some clothes, swallow the coffee, brace for rush hour, beginning to a day, wouldn't it be wonderful to not be able to stop yourself from singing? This is perhaps a lesson, one of many, we might learn from our fine, feathered friends. Start the day with a song.

Some part of me believes that the ancients once followed this practice as they watched and mimicked the ones-with-wings. Certainly, if these humans could not fly like these creatures, they most certainly might be able to make sounds like them. In my imagination I see these first peoples lifting their faces toward heaven, mouths open, imitating the songs of the birds they lived with daily, those that also serenaded them at dawn. As their human voice was released into the air around them, I imagine their faces breaking into a full fledged smile. A perfect way to begin the day.

As you begin this weekend, it might not be a bad idea to take a few moments to listen to the birds outside your window. They are doing what they must…..they are singing. Not a bad way to begin any day. We all might do well to follow their invitation.

"My life flows on in endless song, above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real yet far off hymn, that hails a new creation.
No storm can shake my inmost calm, while to that rock I'm clinging.
Since Love is lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?"

~Robert Lowry(1826-1899)

Have a blessed weekend……………………

"The miracle is not to walk on water but to walk on the earth." Thich Nhat Hahn

Our oldest son has been home from college for a few weeks this summer. This is always a delight to have him with us in his ever-emerging adult self and to reconnect as a family. This summer he brought with him his newest friend, Boone, a black lab-Great Dane mix. To say that this has introduced new energy to our household would be an understatement. This sweet, still-puppy personality, wakes up ready to embrace the day, running through the house, chasing our cat, leaving everything in his path a little askew. His presence has provided great lessons for me in patience, letting-go, and the gift of unconditional love, of which he seems to be filled to overflowing.

But possibly one of the greatest gifts Boone has brought to our house is the fact that he needs to go for walks. Several walks a day. He needs to stop what he is doing…sleeping, eating, playing, harassing the cat, and go for a walk. And since he cannot do this on his own, we humans must tag along.

On these walks we are treated to lessons in living in the present moment. What is that smell? Was that a squirrel? Shouldn't I chase it? What is that thing sticking up out of the grass? What was that singing noise coming from the tree? Who threw that nut at me? There's a ball, shouldn't we play? You get the picture. And because one of the humans has the lease on which he is tethered, we have the opportunity to be present to all these questions, these experiences as well. Our outings become a wake up call to the gift of walking on the earth.

There is a practice of walking meditation that many people find very helpful. This way of walking is done slowly, noticing how our foot flexes, rolls, and moves with each placement on the ground. With the noticing of the foot's movement, you can become aware of how each body part moves in connection to the others, how our breath supports the walking, the balance it takes to actually do this very normal, necessary, function. Walking meditation opens us to not only the way the body moves, breathes and has motion, but also all the sounds that we hear, the smells that waft up from the path on which we travel. In these summer days, I offer this description to you as something you might try to further savor the joy of walking.

Walking with Boone is not the slow pace of walking meditation. But it does bring with it the sheer joy of being present in a world so full of simple pleasures…..the sweet scent of dirt, the quick, courageous movement of squirrels, the giddiness of rolling around in  soft, green grass. All in all I am thankful for all he has taught me during his month of summer camp at our house.

The next time you take yourself out for a walk, I invite you to notice the dogs that may be on your path. Check in with yourself. Are they having more fun that you are? If it seems so, I invite you to follow their lead and open yourself to the present moment. Who knows what  might be encountered when we walk through the world, at least for a few moments, with the eyes and the heart of a dog?

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"Listen! they said….
Listen! the earth will tell you
in the middle of the night
what your heart needs to know."
~Martha O. Adams

I feel especially blessed these days to be surrounded by young adults who are in transition. Some are moving from high school to college, others are nearing college graduation. All are looking forward to the 'what next' of their lives. All are asking deep questions about what they value, what motivates them,how their dreams might be realized. It is a privilege to share in these conversations knowing that I have no real answers for them, only the gift of a listening ear and usually a series of additional questions, hopefully helpful ones. To be present to the unfolding of these young lives is true blessing.

A part of that blessing comes from being confronted with those questions once again for myself. Knowing that my life experience was so different at their age, I search my memory for how I made decisions, what drove me, what excited me, what I knew I couldn't 'live' without doing. As I reflect upon how things have emerged, I see there was only a very small influence of what might be described as rational thought, a detailed action plan. What really has caused me to arrive where I am, doing what I do, was truly driven by heart. What I love, where my passions took me, how my eyes saw what was beautiful, the faith that evolved along the way, the companions I happened upon.

in his book Let Your Life Speak:Listening for the Voice of Vocation, Parker Palmer writes:"Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic selfhood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be." Wise words at all ages, I believe, for no matter where we are on life's path, we can convince ourselves of many 'oughts' that take us down paths that do not help us live our life's calling. The distractions of daily living really provide enough detours without our help, so what good is it to follow what we think, or believe others think, we ought to be doing?

It is Monday, the beginning of a new work week for most. What does your heart need to know about the deep yearnings within you? How are you taking time to listen to that voice that calls to you in the night urging you to 'what next'? Regardless of our chronological age, our authentic self calls to us, asking to be born again and again over all the years are privileged to walk this amazing planet. It is a deep prayer that rests within each of us.

Our true work is to listen, deeply listen.

Today is July 31st.I realized this morning that there are only technically four weeks of summer left before children head back to school and the fresh, fall air begins to rush in on us, before we surrender once again to the order of autumn. In fact, last Sunday morning as I rose early to head to church, the air smelled different than it had.There was a hint of fall lingering within the morning.

So that makes me ask myself the question: Am I really enjoying this summer? Am I living it to the fullest, savoring those elements of summer that we so long for in our winter days? Are you enjoying this summer? Are you squeezing every bit of enjoyment out of it?

Here are some things I look forward to in summer. Picnics. The sweetness of watermelon. Vegetables from the farmer's market with, as a friend noted this week, dirt still clinging to the roots. Taking in an outdoor concert, most of which are free. Berries of all kinds, picking them and canning them. Watching the kids in the neighborhood ride their bikes up and down, up and down the street, aimlessly. Reading a book under a shade tree and maybe dozing off a bit. The beauty of the lakes and all the summer wildlife that grace their shores. Walking barefoot in the wet, morning grass.Simple, free pleasures.

Near our home office area hangs a whimsical picture with the words:"Most people don't know that there are angels whose only job is to make sure you don't get too comfortable & fall asleep & miss your life." Today is a day to take stock, not so much of my life, but certainly of this summer. Have I fallen asleep, gotten too comfortable or more likely, too busy,to be present to these fleeting summer days? Have you? Perhaps the Angels of August are flapping their wings over our heads right this very minute saying "Wake up! Summer is slipping away. Don't miss it!"

Here's a nod to the angels for the wake up call. And now it is time to head out into the sunshine and turn my face heavenward in gratitude. Join me?