"All the arts we practice are apprenticeship. The big art  is our  life." M. C. Richards

Most people don’t think of themselves as artists.I guess I should say, most adults don’t think of themselves as artists. I think, generally, most children do….painters, dancers, singers, musicians, sculptors, architects, you name the art. At one point of childhood, most children will say they are an artist. It is unfortunate that that as we get older we lose that sense that we are creating……every day.

We are artists, or as M.C. Richards writes, we are apprentices to the art that is our life. We are apprentice homemakers, parents, friends, co-workers, children, citizens, community members, students, teachers, prophets. We are learning….apprenticing under the direction of others….how to create our life. Do you ever think of it that way? No one…ever…has walked in the world exactly like you. No one…ever...brings to the table what you bring. No one…ever…has been an apprentice to  what makes up your big art….your life.

It sounds really important when put that way doesn’t it? And it is. In our worship community we sing with regularity: "You are God’s work of art"……..each of us….creating the life that is our big art, held on the breath of the Great Artist. I wonder how each day might be different if we opened our eyes each morning, sat up in bed, and said: Today is the day to continue creating my Big Art. Today I am going to choose a little yellow for brilliance, a dab of blue for shadowing, a swish of red for flair, a big stroke of orange for richness, green for growing in all the open spaces on the canvas, white for contrast here, black for contrast there, and purple because, well, just because.

There are so many ways we can create the art that is our life. We have so many wonderful models that have walked before us, creating as they go. So, what colors are on your palette this day?

"When we speak words come out. When God speaks birds come out. You are a word that God spoke too. What do you think God means by you?" Polly Berrien Berends, Gently Lead: How to Teach Your Children About God While Finding Out For Yourself

Most days, I walk around thinking everyone sees the world just as I do. Are you like that or is it just me? I convince myself that it would all be so ‘much easier’ if they did. There would be no arguments, peace would reign. Everyone would agree about what to have for dinner, what movie to see, what church to go to, who to vote for for president. Of course, this is delusional thinking on my part. My world view is shaped by DNA, life experience, education, my social circles, my faith community, my place of privilege in the world. At the deepest level, I know this. Sometimes my ego allows me to long for everyone wearing the same pair of corrective lenses as I do.

"Think of society as being like a pond, an ecosystem. You need this anaerobic bacteria, that algae. Hold the phosphorous. We all see the world so clearly and crisply through our own glasses that it’s a difficult imaginative leap to believe another person sees a different scene, logically incompatible with yours." writes Mary Rose O’Reilley

Here I am-here you are-in the pond with all these others who have an equal right to their views, their beliefs, their faith,their ways of seeing. And life finds us swimming together and trying to make sense of it all. This is so clear to me as I listen to all the ads running us toward Super Tuesday. Some voices sound so like my own. Others are so different I can’t recognize what they are talking about, who they are speaking to or for in this great land of ours.

And yet here we are, all together in one place,one ecosystem,trying to create a world that is better for ourselves and for all the children and children’s children that will follow us. Ecosystem….eco, coming from the Greek oikos, meaning house. It’s messy business….and beautiful….as most ponds, as most houses, are.

As we go forward in the next days of decision making and moving further to the right or to the left, may we remember that we are caring for the ‘whole house’, not just our particular room. May we try as best we can to see through our own lenses clearly while squinting to see the view of others. And through it all may we act wisely, with kindness, and an effort to do no harm to those swimming with us.

"And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. Mark 3:25

"Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white." Matthew 17:1-2

This Sunday is the last Sunday before Lent and in most Protestant churches it is the celebration of the Transfiguration of Jesus. I have to admit to being a bit confused yet intrigued by this scripture account. Jesus is with his friends and suddenly he becomes filled with and surrounded by light.If that isn’t enough, Moses and Elijah show up at his side.  Now Peter in his usual over-the-top way wants to mark the moment by building a home right then, right there. Then the story gets really interesting. A bright, shining cloud covers them and the voice of God says:’ This is my Child, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased;listen to him!" After all this, what does Jesus do? He tells them not to tell a soul. Yeah, right.

I thought about this story today as I was listening to Louise Erdrich’s The Painted Drum while driving in my car. I am taking a small break from news and other radio broadcasts and listening to books of CD instead. In this there is a description of two sisters, very different from one another. While catching fireflies as children, one would carefully catch and guard the magical insects in a jar,feeling somewhat apologetic for holding them hostage. The other sister was known to take the insects and squish them all over her body and then dance in the moonlight so she could glow.

That image, of this glowing child dancing in the moonlight, reminded me of the transfiguration of Jesus. I cannot in my wildest imagination explain what happened to him. But I can imagine the glow of another human being. I have seen it. Haven’t you? Often, when people are newly in love, they glow.Children glow with excitement at the sight of a small animal they long to touch. I have watched a new mother and father looking at their baby with such joy , they are glowing. I trust that as people saw me with my two precious sons, they saw a glow that transformed my face.

While Erdrich was of course telling a story, I think she touched on something very important. We all want the opportunity to glow…to be so bright we cannot be missed…to shine like the sun….to throw our arms out and spin with our skin, our eyes, our smile sending brilliant rays into the world. Don’t we all want to be transformed by something or someone to the point that we glow?

In addition to glowing, I believe,we also want to hear the words: "This is my child, my beloved. I am very pleased with you." We want to hear it from our parents, our grandparents,our partners, from our friends, our co-workers, our children. And mostly we want to hear those words from the One who breathed and birthed us into being, the Holy One.

My prayer is that this weekend will find you glowing and watching for glimpses of the shining companions with whom we walk upon this Earth. And may we each hear the voice that will remind us once again that we are, indeed, beloved.

Have a wonderful weekend……………………

"All of us are pilgrims on this earth; I have even heard people say that the earth itself is a pilgrim in the heavens." Maxim Gorky

I am steeped in the words of pilgrims these days. I may have mentioned that we have chosen the theme "Passport for Pilgrims" for Lent this year. So I find myself reading, thinking, and planning around the idea of what it means to be a pilgrim of life’s journey. It is a rich and fascinating concept and I am energized by it.

When we truly think about it, aren’t we all pilgrims of one kind or another? Traveling along,sometimes with a plan or a map but mostly taking the journey as it comes. Hopefully, from a faith perspective, we are pilgrims, setting out each day with the intention of ‘running into God’ along the way or having  God ‘run into us.’.

One aspect of being a pilgrim is a desire to grow and deepen who we are and what we know about ourselves, the world, the sacred. This comes through both intention and gift, sometimes called serendipity. Sometimes called grace. But first there is setting the intention: "Today as I walk in the world I pray I will see the Holy in a new way." Not like I did yesterday or even last year after a mountain top experience, but a ‘new’ way. That is growth, that is depth.

Too often we want to keep our faith right where it is. We want to keep our experience of worship, of prayer, of service, exactly as it has always been. Safe. Sure. Comfortable. When that is our intention, most of God gets shoved into a box of our own creation. When we read the scriptures in the same way we always have, we negate the living nature of those powerful words. We put ourselves in a box of our own making with no room to grow or deepen.

Several weeks ago I placed three paper white bulbs in a small bowl with stones and water. Over the last several weeks one bulb has grown about 8 inches, green stalks reaching toward the sun. One of the other bulbs has now grown about 3 inches of green. The third bulb has just finally begun to show about a half inch of growth. Same bowl, same stones, same water, same light. Different roots.The one with the longest roots has of course grown the most.

How are you nurturing your ‘pilgrim’ roots? As Lent approaches next week, I invite you to think about how you might set an intention to grow and deepen your spiritual life. Let’s think outside the box, shall we?

"Unlike mere travel, a pilgrimage is a journey into the
landscape of the soul." Vivienne Hull

"Often we want to be able to see the future. We say ‘How will next year be for me? Where will I be five or ten years from now?’ There are no answers to these questions. Mostly we just have enough light to see the next step:what we have to do in the coming hour or the following day." Henri Nouwen

Last night my husband and I made a passing comment about parenting…"you just never know". This was in the course of a conversation about our oldest son’s plans for a possible study abroad program he is excited about right now. "You just never know"…..where their path will take them, what will fill them with passion, what will be an obstacle, what will be an opportunity. As parents we can plan,prod,encourage,discipline, and as a life plays out….you just never know.

If you are a part of any organization, you are familiar with a five-year plan or even a ten-year plan for the future. These are all good things to do, to have. I know people who They can become a place of great dreaming, creativity, and can sometimes actually come to the hope-for fruition. When this happens, it is  cause for great rejoicing.

Mostly, we live our lives in the place of just enough light. We have this moment, this day, perhaps this week. The rest, what is to come, rests in the shadows. ‘Enough light’ is a good place. Here we see the gifts that are within our reach, the blessings of the moment, our precious breath. Here we see the faces of those who walk with us and can offer our gratitude. Here is enough illumination to move us to the next place….the  place of ‘you just never know’.

The great spiritual teacher Henri Nouwen continues his words: "The art of living is to enjoy what we can see and not complain about what remains in the dark. When we are able to take the next step with trust that we will have enough light for the step that follows, we can walk through life with joy and be surprised at how far we go. Let’s rejoice in the little light we carry and not ask for the great beam that would take all shadows away."

Yes, let’s.

Yesterday morning was one of those rare mild January mornings in Minnesota. Today the temperature has already dipped back down with a big "gotcha" on its breath, saying don’t think it is spring just yet, my friends. But it was nice to have a day where our shoulders weren’t scrunched up around our ears.

It was so nice I walked out onto our deck, coffee cup in hand, to take a look into our little pond where the gold fish now live year round. These particular gold fish, unlike the expensive koi we originally purchased to live in this pond, are now on their third year of life. Last year they spent the winter indoors but, truth be told, they had grown too big for their small temporary home….an abandoned aquarium found in the basement. At forty-nine cents-a-piece, these fish are miracles. And so this fall we bought a small heater that keeps their water warm enough to keep them alive and swimming. It is perhaps a strange thing to do, perhaps not energy efficient, but these fish have now been with us for so long that the often ordinary goldfish exit out of this world never was an option.

There is something comforting to me to know they are out there swimming even when the temperatures dip well below zero. The snow has piled up all around the pond, ice has formed on the eaves of the house, but I know that if I need to catch a glimpse of orange aliveness, I need only walk a few steps out my door. Life is happening out there even if the odds seem against it.

I am reminded of one of my favorite poems by Wendell Berry: So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute. Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be poor. Love someone who does not deserve it. Denounce the government and embrace the flag. Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands. Give your approval to all you cannot understand. Praise ignorance, for what man has not encountered he has not destroyed. Ask the questions that have no answer. Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias. Say that your main crop is the forest, that you did not plant, that you will not live to harvest. Say that the leaves are harvested when they have rotted into the mold. Call that profit.Put your faith in the two inches of humus that will build under the trees every thousand years. Expect the end of the world. Laugh. Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful though you have considered all the facts. Practice resurrection."

Less than a five dollar investment three years ago swims in my backyard with what I might imagine as joy.When I see them, I laugh. I laugh at the irrationality of it all. I’m practicing.

Last Friday afternoon I was sitting in my living room, basking in some quiet time with a book. The sun was streaming through the window reflecting off some crystal snowflakes we have in our windows, creating rainbows on the walls and ceiling. A fire glowed in the fireplace. I had the fleeting thought that things were very calm, orderly, nice. It is after all January,the time to hibernate and hunker down, to be reflective and eat comforting foods….mostly those that also add fat to protect us from the freezing temperatures.

So carrying that good feeling forward, it may seem odd that we decided to tear apart our downstairs bathroom and do some remodeling, mostly cosmetic, nothing too big. But what was a nice, orderly environment now has a basket here, a bin there, filled with all the ‘stuff’ from the bathroom, the floor in torn down to the ‘ugly’, the unhinged door is in the hallway and the new vanity and sink sits in the dining room. An appropriate questions might be: What were we thinking?

It was in that frame of mind that I sat down to do some reading about Lent. Lent, if you haven’t thought about it, begins next week, very, very early, as we who work in the church know too well. "Lent’s simplifications re-awaken me to awareness of how I feel when life’s circumstances and patterns get rearranged. What has been is no longer what is. Space opens toward something new.", writes Jeannette Bakke in this edition of Thin Places.

Choosing to tear up our bathroom is a minor, somewhat trivial rearrangement of our normal pattern of life. Yet, it calls us to respond in new ways to the how we do our daily living. There are many I know that are experiencing a much deeper sense of rearrangement in their lives. Illness has come to live at their house. Death and grief has made a home in their midst. Fear and uncertainty is a constant companion. What has been is no longer what is. What is new is not yet known.

Sometimes we choose rearrangement, sometimes it chooses us. It is the unfolding nature of living. How we walk with it, how we live into it, can be a matter of faith, of hope, of letting go, letting be. There is no one right answer. For me, there is an awareness of the Sacred that lives in the crevices and shadows of the spaces of our daily walk. That can make a world of difference. I pray it does.

"All shall be well…all shall be well…and all manner of things shall be well." Julian of Norwich

As I was inching along in the line of cars to get on 94 West this week, my eyes fell on a curious bumper sticker. It read: Chaos-Panic-Fear: My work here is done. I was startled. What could this mean? What was the intention of the creator? What was the intention of the person who cavalierly pasted this message on their bumper? On the one hand I wanted to laugh but then the words began to disturb me.

Chaos-Panic-Fear. Who would declare that as their work? Probably each of us could name a few people whose work we believe does just that…creates chaos. Sometimes this is intentional and sometimes it is simply because their life situation carries with it energy that moves into our midst and before we know it we are sucked into their chaotic vertex. Chaos often has panic as its by-product and where panic lives fear finds a home and takes root. My prayer is that I may never create this negative spiral though no doubt at times I have.

I would like to speak for another way of living in and with chaos. Webster defines chaos as:’the disorder of formless matter and infinite space, supposed to have existed before the ordered universe ;the state of order existing within apparent disorder, as in the irregularities of a coastline or snowflake.’ If approached with openness and a hopeful heart, chaos can be the biggest catalyst for creativity. When faced with the chaos of a situation, relationship, project, if we open our eyes to the possibilities within the chaos, creativity moves in and great things can come out of it……things as amazing as snowflakes.

Perhaps parts of your life, your work, may seem like they are chaos right now. Disorder reigns. How different would our work be if we saw this disorder not as a reason to panic and be fearful but instead as an opportunity for great dreaming, re-imagining and creativity? This choice is not always the easy one. We live in a culture that promotes panic and fear at every turn. But this choice is, in my experience, always the rewarding one.

As I read the scriptures and other wisdom writings, it seems to me that all great forward motion has been founded on a creativity that rose out of and above chaos to ask the question,"What is the greatest good that can be done here?" And out of that asking, change, order, and hope are born.

So let me propose another bumper sticker….Chaos-Creativity-Hope: My Work Here Has Just Begun. Anyone out there willing to slap that message on their bumper? Anyone willing to put these words…with glue that promises to be very difficult to remove….on their car and drive out into the world? I hope so.

The reports tell us a warming trend for these frigid days is on its way. Seems like a good opportunity to reach for our creativity and see what come of it. Stay warm and dream.

"Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness. God’s Spirit brooded above the watery abyss. God spoke: Light! and light appeared. God saw that light was good."Genesis 1 from The Message

On Monday I went to the Como Conservatory and Zoo. It was time. My skin had taken enough torture and was dry and flaky, my eyes could only see shades of white and gray. So the extended period of time in the humidity of the conservatory was just what the doctor ordered. Being in the presence of all the green and growing things was just what my soul longed for.

Perhaps the sign stating the mission statement of the Como Zoo had been there a long time and I had  never noticed it before: To inspire our public to value the presence of living things in our lives. I had no paper with me so I pulled out the only thing I had to write on…my checkbook…and wrote the statement down.To inspire our public to value the presence of living things in our lives. Shouldn’t this be a mission statement so many organizations embrace? Schools? Government? Churches? What might our lives be like if this was the statement that guided our living each day? I particularly like "our public" for aren’t we all in this together? No ‘us and them’ statement but "our’. To inspire…all people…to value the presence of….all living things…in our lives.

But it got even better. The next sign, the good-bye sign just before reaching the parking lot read: We are open 365 days a year with exciting happenings every day. Now there’s a message! Three hundred and sixty-five days a years we can be blessed with ‘exciting happenings every day’, if we are awake to them.
I realize, of course, that it is a matter of perspective, of attitude, sometimes of circumstance. But I do know that I have people in my life who are going through terrible things and yet manage to see the world as beautiful and hopeful. If given the choice, I will choose to see it all as they do…not mundane or ho-hum but as full of exciting happenings.

If the gray winter days have gotten to you and you need a reminder of the beauty and wonder of this world we are blessed to inhabit, I offer this advice: Get up, get dressed, put on layers and head over to Como.Your skin will feel better, you will breath deeper and longer as you inhale the rich,thick humidity. Trees of starfruit, mangoes and orchids await. Seals are swimming, polar bears are playing, and a baby orangutan waits for a name. They’ll be watching for you…today, and everyday…..watching for the next ‘exciting happening’.

"And God said to Moses: Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground." Exodus 3:5

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you
And know there is more
That you can’t see, can’t hear
Can’t know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren’t always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

    Joy Harjo

Eagles circling over patches of open water. Cold, cobalt blue sky, brilliant piercing sun bouncing its rays off the snow, the ice. This is the sight we glimpsed this Sunday afternoon as we drove along the river toward Wabasha. Our leisurely trip had no other goals than to have a change of scenery in these January ‘sameness’ of days and the chance to see the eagles. And see them we did…young ones still brown with newness, no white yet emerged on their majestic heads, large ones soaring over the water, dipping with ease and precision to catch their lunch, those at a distance and those so close you could see their eyes. What a blessing!

There was a time in my life, a time of great fear and uncertainty, when I was visited by eagles. Driving in my car one dark Sunday morning in February, an eagle flew over so close I swear we were eye to eye. At another time, the eagles circled over the river near our home as I lay in a hospital room uncertain of what the future held for me. In a doctor’s office I looked up to see the single piece of artwork….eagle feathers painted by a Native artist. Eagles became angels for me, hovering near, praying with me,over me. I did not understand what was happening, this strange human-bird relationship, but I knew it was a gift, something not to be taken for granted.

And so this Sunday we pulled over here and there to get out of the car into the frigid air and watch these mighty birds soar, to lift the binoculars to our eyes for a closer look at their beauty, their power, their flight. And we were not alone. At each stop, we were joined by others who lifted their heads toward the heavens and followed the winging of brown and white as it touched the Earth. Silently, humans who had never known one another, were united in what? Admiration? Awe? Prayer? Certainly beauty and blessing.

"But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee, and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee: Or speak to the earth and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee." Job 12:7-8 KJV