Clearing out the Garage

Yesterday was the last of my month-long sabbatical. I finishing it by clearing space in my garage, tossing out old projects and items, many of which should have never been brought into the garage. The idealist in me over-commits: "Oh, I could make something out of that, or use that!" Looking over all the stuff in my garage, I could see and feel the weight of all those unfinished projects and promises.

Sometimes what happens on the outside mimics and feeds what's happening on the inside. Letting go of physical stuff can help us let go of emotional and spiritual weight, too.

More than catharsis, it's about narrowing and focusing our time, talents, resources, and energy to be more effective in a few areas, rather than dabbling and never finishing or even starting a thousand other things.

This branches from earlier posts about being content. Discontent with ourselves, current situations, or others leads some to amass stuff, projects, committees or responsibilities. I think at some point discontent grows in proportion to the unused stuff, unfulfilled hopes, and unfinished projects we've collected. There's more to worry over, too many times and ways that we feel we've let ourselves or others down.

More than likely, others around us have moved on. They don't need to carry our baggage. Have we moved on? We can. By letting go. There many things worth doing, worth time and energy, but maybe not our time and energy.

There are quite a few things I have enjoyed doing or building in my garage, but what has fed me more than anything else? Painting. However, I let other things to move into my "studio space" in the garage, thinking it would only be a few weeks. Instead, I should have used that intrusion as a reason to say "no" to the added stuff and projects.

In life, protect what's most valuable by giving them most of your time, energy and space. That includes your faith in and worship of God, your family, and physical, emotional and spiritual health (and, depending on individual deficits, not necessarily in that order). That means letting go of some plans, good ideas, responsibilities, and even some marginally fun hobbies.

Right now, I'm reading The Power of Less, by Leo Babauta. He describes habits that can help de-clutter our lives in terms of time and energy. I'm only a few chapters into it, but looking forward to working on some of his suggestions! If any of this rings true for you, this is my recommended summer reading.

Blessings!

Content ≠ Complacent

I've blogged a couple of notes from The Little Book of Contentment by Leo Babauta. In the last section of his booklet, he answered FAQs. It's clear that people's greatest fear of being "content" is that they will lose their motivation to achieve or succeed.

Aren't we driven by competition with others or by dissatisfaction with the status quo? If we're "content," why bother? Babauta lifts up two things that continue to motivate him: 1) his desire to learn, and 2) his desire to help. He has found that he is a more successful learner and helper from his base of contentment. Even when content, we still "want" to learn, to have relationships, and to help.

As Christians, we can start from a base of grace: God's forgiveness and acceptance, his unshakable claim on us. In other words, when I know that I'm okay, then I can focus on the needs of others and on creation.

And I believe our curiosity, about others, about creation, about anything, in the context of our relationship with God is a way to love, honor and worship him. He loves our curiosity. He made us like that! (Maybe because God is curious?) Babauta's second mantra is good: "We are all learning." I'd include the arts and musical expression in that exploration and curiosity.

Still, I believe in a certain amount of "discontent" in the area of God's justice and love. Jesus wasn't always "content." Scripturally, it's about making sure the widows and orphans are not neglected, that the vulnerable in our society, including the sick, outcasts, foreigners, prostitutes, etc., are cared for, that they are included and seen as a part of the whole. It's about wanting others to know that they are loved by God and by Christ's followers. It's about meeting needs, and about wanting to share his love and grace with those that don't know it, believe it, or feel it.

God's passionate discontent in us may help us to see pain, unfairness, or suffering, and to respond with our own tears and actions.

However, yes: this all stands on a firm base of contentment within myself. "I" am okay. "I" can decrease, so that "he" might increase. I and my needs, fears, wants, etc. can decrease, so that God and the needs of others, or of exploration and discovery in creation, music and art can all increase.

We see in the mirror... dimly.

Last night my wife and I saw the new Star Trek movie. I confess that I occasionally covet the persona of Captain James T. Kirk, ...well not everything about him, but the bravado, swagger, luck, charisma, strength, authority, etc. What if I had those best parts of his character?   hmmm...

Even people who--on the surface--seem confident and content can harbor a degree of disappointment and discontent: with themselves, with their lives, what they've done, or where they are right now. We may try our hardest not to compare ourselves to others, or to the caracatures of the ideal person we wish we could be, but it happens. We do compare or fantasize what it would be like if only we had that body or ability, charm, wealth, lack of baggage or fears... and then with those thick glasses we look in the mirror. To varying degree we feel let down by the person we see.

And there may even be an imagined god, an internal voice, who looks over our shoulder at the reflection with us and, scowling, whispers his accusing judgments into our ear. "Look how you fail me. You call yourself a Christian?" We don't measure up on any scale to the person or life we "ought to" be or have.

"...In reality, no one you see is what you think they are — you only see certain parts of the story, the good parts, and rarely see the person’s doubt and anguish and discontent. People don’t share their warts and hemorrhoids, just the great pictures of their food and vacation and children."

-Babauta, Leo (May, 2013). The Little Book of Contentment.

These comparisons may motivate us for brief moments to strive for what seems healthier living, exercise, organization, better habits, etc. Occasionally, we gain some victories and have those moments of "yes" only to place the bar a little higher, find some other flaw, or backslide into the old self. These comparisons, that demeaning internal voice, and any scale of how we "ought to" be, look or act are distructive lying demons.

Contentment isn't achieved. Contentment is accepting the reality, but not just the disappointing "reality" we see in that mirror (because that image is false; it has been warped and smeared by those lying demons). Contentment is accepting the greater reality of who God sees when he looks at each of us. Contentment is accepting and trusting the amazing forgiveness and ability to redeem and act and heal through us, to breath, love, laugh, help.

The Little Book of Contentment: "Contentment is about letting go of these fantasies, and realizing that life is amazing without them. People around us are amazing without the fantasies. We are amazing, without the fantasies. How do we let go of the fantasies? First by shining the light of awareness on them. Watch ourselves fantasize, realize that it’s happening, realize that we don’t need the fantasies. Be OK with letting them go. Watch reality closely, and recognize life’s awesomeness, as it is, without the fantasies. It’s there. We just need to learn to see it."

If we could only truly see with the eyes of God, like Jesus, who looks at us and sees beauty, someone he forgives--not only because he's merciful--but also because he loves us more than we love ourselves. When content, we can see with his eyes. It takes trust and practice to take off the thick smeared glasses of lies and false fantasies, and use his eyes to see ourselves, others, and creation.


Contentment, by the way, is not complacency. We can be content AND develop healthy habits, as well as learn, grow, help and even achieve. ...More on that later.

Contentment

I am very grateful that my congregation has a sabbatical policy for the pastors, offering up to 3 months every seven years. While I am two years away from my next opportunity, they were especially kind to advance me one month now. I was going to take a two-day course at Pacific Lutheran University, but the cost was a bit high. Instead, I am laying out a course of exercise, yard work, and self-study.

Last night, I read a short book about being content. It took a little over an hour, including time for reflection.

Now, this was out of the Zen tradition, and--at least for me--needs translation. Leo Babauta finds his contentment and value within himself. However, what I need is to trust that the God of creation looked at his creation (including me) and found it good; he created and sees value in me, a work of his own hand. God sees enough value that he is willing to reside within me through his Spirit (a promise of my baptism) and through Christ he was willing to use his own life in order to claim and keep me. Babauta says that we won't find this contentment and value from external sources. I think he's right that we won't find it in the "world" outside of us. However, I believe that intrinsic and internal value and--therefore, true contentment--got its start from a much bigger source than myself. That Source makes my value, and potential contentment, all the more stable, reliable, and (God help me) believable.

With that perspective, I did find the words and activities helpful for self-acceptance, and for dealing with negative emotions - my own and others'.


Here's a first nugget:

"If you have a friend who is constantly late and breaking his word, not showing up when he says he will, eventually you’ll stop trusting that friend. It’s like that with yourself, too. It’s hard to like someone you don’t trust, and it’s hard to like yourself if you don’t trust yourself."

The suggestion is to take small steps toward regaining trust in yourself. Make a very doable promise to yourself, and keep it, and then another.


The Little Book of Contentment by Leo Babauta. (May, 2013; It may only be available in digital form. You can click the title above or download the .pdf version for free.)

I'll post a few more nuggets in days to come from this little booklet, but I've also started to read his print book, The Power of Less; The Fine Art of Limiting Yourself to the Essential...in Business and in Life. I saw it on display at our denomination's regional assembly. It reminded me of a very helpful book, Simple Church, which I read a few years back.

Last post...

This web blog describes my experiences, readings and thoughts during my sabbatical from June 1 to August 31, 2008. You can view them by using the archive menu to the right. (If you click on the triangles to the left of the dates, it will give you that week's list of post titles.) Or, you can click on one of the post labels below, i.e. "pictures," "book study," or "sabbatical reflections."

In either case, posts run from the more recent to older posts.

Once I start a new blog with a new title, I will let folks know the address, etc. when it's up and running!

Weekend news

My dad's younger brother and only sibling (in MT) has been struggling with complications from diabetes the last several years and took a turn for the worse last Wednesday and Thursday.

Meanwhile, Trevan was coming down with what we thought was just a boogery cold, then after waking from his afternoon nap, we noticed he was a bit wheezy. Pauline and Mac went to grab some take out, and Trevan continued to get worse, and a bit panicky for air, so I loaded him up and took him to emergency. Pauline and Mac joined us there, but since Mac was kind of freaked by the noise and look of Trevan's nebulizer, I ended up leaving Pauline with Trevan at the hospital and took Mac home. Luckily, Trevan's O2 levels came back up so that he was released later that night. He is doing much better, but still has a way to go... gets tired pretty fast.


We were going to join my brother and his family for weekend camping at Millersylvania State Park, south of Olympia. Instead, I took Mac down for the day on Friday and Pauline took him down on Saturday. He's becoming quite good at casting and reeling his own rod!



I was able to talk to my Uncle Glenn on Friday. We both chuckled at remembering my grandmother's dislike of our beards. He died on Saturday about noon. The service is on Wednesday of this week in Anaconda, MT, so I'm flying out tomorrow night and will come back early Thursday AM. My cousins asked me to help lead the informal memorial with a couple prayers and scripture.

Yesterday, Mac asked if it could be his turn to go camping, so I made a fire in our patio pit and we made s'mores with him. I also pitched the tent, and--in spite of the rain--he and I camped in the backyard last night. At one point the rain got pretty loud. I asked him if it was keeping him awake. He scooched his sleeping bag closer, hugged my arm and answered, "Yes, but I'm here to keep you company so you don't be scared."

Thank you, God, for coming to us in the shape of our children!

(Here's a pic from last night.)

Emerald Lake Painting

Below is my painting of the eastern ridges above Emerald Lake, to which we hiked and camped a week and half ago. I started it while there, and as I mentioned in a previous blog, anyone with a low-powered microscope would find plenty of gnat parts included in the texture! Oil paint takes a while to dry, so I made a lightweight but sturdy framework out of 4 pushpins, foamboard and a plastic document folder so that I could pack it out and get it home to Tacoma without smearing what I'd started.

Sabbatical, Day 80

Wow, what a great ribbon-cutting celebration last Sunday; beyond what I expected! It was good to see so many people. I am looking forward to getting back in the office, and looking forward to seeing whatever lies ahead of us!



Much of last week I was with my two older brothers, Kevin and Darryl, and my two godbrothers, Steve and Doug (also, Doug's dog, Nick) in the mountains north of Bozeman/Belgrade MT.
(above, right to left: Nick, Doug, me, Kevin, Steve, and Darryl.)

On Tuesday, Aug 12, we hiked up (way UP) and camped by Emerald Lake. (pic below)

It was loaded with grayling fish. Most of what we caught were 7-10 inches. Here's a picture of one my brother, Darryl, caught on a fly. Notice the large colorful dorsal fin which often comes up out of the water as you reel them in. If you're at your desktop, you should be able to click on any of these pics for a closer look.

In the picture below, you can see all the ripples as the greylings came up for insects. It's not a common fish (except in this lake) so we released them as we caught them.

I'm not a flyfisher, but I rigged one of Darryl's flies to my rod and managed to catch quite a few. Here's a picture of Darryl flyfishing; I found that it's hard to catch the line in action.

On Wednesday, we packed lunches and took a day trip to Heather Lake where Doug and I scrambled up the ridgelines.

From my view, you could see both Heather Lake and south bank of Emerald Lake behind. You might need to click on the pic or zoom in to see Emerald Lake. It looks like it's just over the rise, but they're about 2 miles apart.

Later, I joined Darryl in fishing for the cutthroat trout in Heather Lake. We could see them swimming in schools of 15 to 20 near the shore. Between us, we kept 4 that were about 10 inches and cooked them for dinner that night. They were very tasty.

There were a lot of beautiful wildflowers. Here's a few...


One of my favorites now is the lupine with its whorl of 10 pointed leaves. (There's a good Biblical number for you!) It's the first plant I took a picture of at the beginning of my sabbatical. That was the seacoast lupine which grows on the sandy coastline. This is probably the silky lupine. I also saw them in the Cascades where the blooms had already given over to its fuzzy pea-pods.

I started to paint some of the scenery by the campsite. In the pic below, I was not wearing a jacket for warmth, but to limit mosquito bites! After laying out the basic shapes, I let the paint dry in the sun while eating dinner and came back to find that about a hundred little gnats had kamikazed into the wet canvas! Rather than trying to scrape them all out and smear it, I left them in and packed it out. In fact, I finally finished the little painting earlier this afternoon. (I brushed the little tykes off a couple days ago).

Before we hiked out, Darryl and I had just enough time on Thursday to scramble up to the ridge and one of the snowbanks that I was painting.

In spite of the amazing number of mosquitoes and swarms of (non-biting) gnats, it was the best hiking trip I've had!

Sabbatical, Day 66

I got back from the Grunewald Guild Sunday afternoon. Now, Pauline and I are packing up to leave for Great Falls, MT by Tuesday, late morning to visit both sets of parents, and next week I am going for a couple-day backpack trip in the mountains by Belgrade, MT with my two older brothers and my two godbrothers.

Sabbatical, Day 63

Leaves

spilling,

Laughing green

from fingered branch.

Sabbatical, Day 62

A group of have been meeting each morning for a short hike before breakfast. This morning (6AM) started out grey and overcast, but by the time we had our pre-walk coffee, the clouds broke open and as we overlooked the small valley, with a rainbow, lingering clouds and mist on mountainsides, the sun beaming down... thank you, God! Of course, this was the morning I left my camera in my room. Oh well, couldn't capture a moment like that except to treasure it.

I ventured off monochrome today using a pretty good imitation of John Singer Sargent's "Madame X" (click). (My imitation is from the shoulders up). It was pretty good until I started adding the color; ...should've left it in monochrome and started a new project. Oh, well, this is about learning. In the end, I wiped off the color, tried again, wiped it off again, and then tried to mend the monochrome.

Sabbatical, Day 61

Isn't this a neat quote?

"The Savior comes in various forms to each person according to need. To those who lack joy, he becomes a vine; to those who wish to enter in, he is a door; for those who must offer prayers, he is a mediating high priest. To those in sin, he becomes a sheep, to be sacrificed on their behalf. He comes to be 'all things to all people' remaining in his own nature what he is. For so remaining, and possession the true and unchanging dignity of Sonship, of physicians and caring teachers, he adapts himself to our infirmities."

-300's AD, Cyril of Jerome, Catechetical Lec., 10.5.

In yesterday's morning worship, our worship leader asked to picture Christ as she read a number of his Biblical titles. Later, in painting class, we covered the canvas with dark paint. Then we lifted up parts of the paint with rags in such a way that the canvas would show through. The more you lifted, the brighter the "reflection." The goal was to create faces that appear to be coming in from the dark. In my mind I had the face of a kindly old shepherd, and was a little surprised to uncover a bit of my paternal grandfather, at least in the eyes.

(Once I get home, I hope to have a chance to scan some of the things I'm doing, and will post them... maybe. Not being an artist, I hesitate to put it out there...)

Book notes, A Sense of the Sacred, pt. 1 of 4

I've made mention of it in the previous blogs, but I'm just over two-thirds through R. Kevin Seasoltz's A Sense of the Sacred; Theological Foundations of Christian Architecture and Art. It's a challenge, especially for someone like me who has never really studied art or architecture, and a poor head for retaining history on top of it. Regardless, I have simply slowed down, reading one-two chapters and day, and am learning quite a bit about the shifts from Romanesque to Gothic to Renaissance, Baroque, etc. Even more helpful have been the connections Seasoltz makes between these general artistic and architectural styles to the shifts in theology, which affected the liturgy, the emphasis on clergy or the community, and the participation (or lack of it) of the congregation.

Some things worth noting...

From the start and in most periods, when illustrating or making Biblical images, artists did not try to imagine and dress the people and environs "as they must have been." There has rarely been a concern re: "historical accuracy." They usually drew from their own environment and life. An important exception would be the periods of renaissance when artists would return to study and imitate the classical Greek and Roman styles. In the earliest Greco-Roman Art, "Daniel was represented as a heroic nude; the prophets were shown in philosophical garb; and the altars in the scenes of Abraham sacrificing Isaac were typical Roman altars" (p.91).

What can we draw from this? Perhaps, we would have an easier time seeing ourselves, involving ourselves in scripture if we made the effort (as many artist are) to cast these stories and imagining them in our time, modern dress and environment. Of course, much religious abstract or representative art has this in mind, but--unless trained in or sensitive to abstract art--many people are left out, and they return to the more romanticized realism of the late 19, early 20 C. 

Some people have an initial negative reaction to a clearly oriental Jesus coming from eastern art, or the African images of Mary coming from S. Africa or African American culture. We tend to so closely associate "truth" with "historical accuracy" that we dismiss the more important truths which come out of metaphor, symbols, stories. (In truth, none of the images we hold or cherish are historically accurate!) Re-imaging isn't so much about trying to re-make or pretend that Jesus, or Mary, or others actually looked like us, as it is learning and trying to see them embodied, or applied to our life and situation. Or, we may be trying to cast ourselves and world into the Bible story. How is this story or image still true for us?

Seasoltz mentions some of the early fauna used in funereal and churches to represent resurrection, "including the dolphin, the phoenix, and the peacock ...[which] do not appear in any specific bible texts." Instead, these came from popular myths and stories applied to the Christian perspective, i.e. stories of dolphins carrying drowning victims to safety (p.112). In the Northwest, how might the salmon and its life-cycle or native stories about the salmon do the same? How does the rhododendron compare with traditional Christian images and use of flora? What if Mt. Rainier and locals were used for the scene of Jesus and the disciples returning from the Transfiguration?

Sabbatical, Day 59 cont.

Earlier today, I made use of the triple swirled prayer labyrinth here at the Grunewald Guild.

I've sometimes seen this journey toward deeper spirituality as a pilgrimage that would help me "arrive" at some new state or consciousness. Certainly, there is movement, but like the labyrinth, it seems to be a movement that carries us deeper or shallower. The hope is that the deeper moments somehow change us as we move outward from the center.

These prayer labyrinths look a little like mazes, with an important difference. Modern mazes tend to be puzzles where you try to draw a line from a "start" position to an "end" position, without running into dead ends. They are a bit goal-oriented and self-focused. I think that if we try to approach our prayer life and spirituality this way, we will likely (if honest) become very frustrated.

If life is like a labyrinth (& it is), it suddenly occurred to me as I stepped out of the labyrinth, that it is a journey that doesn't necessarily have a clear beginning or ending, at least in this: it is not that I invite God into my journey and life, but that he has allowed me to step into his.

These are some thoughts that coincide with Kevin Seasoltz's comments about sacred places: There is a tension, a "dialogue between landedness and landlessness, between a people settled in a place and a people in exile... The God of the promised land is also the God of the wilderness" (A Sense of the Sacred, p. 70).

Jesus assured the Samaritan woman that a day would come (is here) when God would be worshiped, neither on Mt. Gerizim nor in Jerusalem, but in spirit and truth. He said he would be where two or more gather in his name. His central message was, of course, the establishment, or the fullness, of God's Kingdom. This Kingdom would not be identified with places but an Encounter that results (finally) in reconciliation and peace with God, and love among God's people (ibid. p. 71). This Encounter happens in place and time, but always points beyond that place and time, and then moves on.

Spirituality is a journey, to be sure, but it is God's ongoing journey that his grace invites and welcomes us to intersect and even to influence. That is our salvation, which has already been moving in and with us, now and indefinitely. If there is a goal--it may be to arrive at a peace with God and his creation--so that we are no longer consumed with trying to control or convince him through our prayers to do things our way, or to follow us. Instead, a spiritual goal might be to trust him enough (or more and more) to see him in the encounters, places and times: to feel him cry with us, to hear his little jokes and wondrous laughter. Can you sense his loving frustration and anger with us, and with the self-righteous piety, arrogance, the fearful self-indulgence, and the hatred that divides people and rends creation...all for whom and for which he has asked us to care?

The second greatest commandment is like the first (that is, it supports and reflects the truth of the first) to "love your neighbor as yourself." How we care for creation and our neighbors is the primary way we obey the greatest commandment; it is the primary way of worshiping God. Like the labyrinth I walked today, our liturgical worship is meant to be an artistic and ritualistic expression of these two greatest commandments.

So, again, even without a marked "goal" or spiritual "achievement" liturgy, worship and life are--at their best--movements in and deeper, and then back out as renewed, ...no, as changed people.

In art class, I painted a coffee cup today--practicing the grey-scale.

Sabbatical, Day 59

Yesterday, I got to the Grunewald Guild just in time for dinner and an orientation for the coming week. I was surprised by the relaxed set up, people and buildings. We were introduced to our teachers, weekly and daily schedule, and warned about the wildlife. There seems to be about 30 students, some from near by, others--like me--from Seattle-Tacoma, a few from around the states, and even three from England. 

Five of us are taking the beginners' "Fearless Oil Painting," and others are divided between "Woven Peace" (weaving), fabric painting, "Soul of the Book" (illustrating sacred art with collage), and calligraphy...all with the intent of exploring faith-art connections and expression.

These and many other classes in the arts extend through each week of summer and are open to anyone with an interest. There are morning and evening worship, and meals are served family style around the tables.

In spite of the friendliness, beauty, and spacious room--I am a bit anxious. Perhaps by this evening I will be more "fearless," but this is as can be expected, I'm trying something new, and art can be a bit intimidating, especially when you don't know the language or the tools. And i am using this week as a kind of sacred space, a pilgrimage... Fits with what I just read last night: Victor Turner's three phases in "religious transition." 1) person/s are separated from roles in normal society, 2) to enter a "marginal, liminal, or transitional" place or stage, 3) in order to be re-incorporated into the same/normal society, but with new roles.

I hope that this week provides to me time, focus, and means to gather some of the notions and stirrings that are just starting to congeal. As I drove over Steven's Pass yesterday, I sensed a new surge of assurance that God's Spirit is speaking, leading... I pray for listening ears and obedience.

This really isn't just about painting, or an art study for me. It's not just about becoming more aware of the use and role of art in faith and worship. It is about listening to God, seeing and hearing where he is... and where he wants me... and my church to go.

The art and architecture around us is meant to express, teach, inspire, accommodate, and direct that movement. Why create a new kitchen alongside a wide and high gathering, dining, cafe area? In order to feed people: with food and the presence, bigness, and beauty of God's Spirit--Visible Words!

Holy God, welcome me into this new place, wash me with renewing experiences. Let me be welcoming, a cleansing person, caring for the well-being, dignity, and health of others.

Holy God, feed me with new learning and people. Free me to take part, to be open. Free new leadership from me. Let me be a feeding, teaching person who frees others with your grace!

Sabbatical, Day 57

This morning we attended worship at a nearby Lutheran congregation. I supply-preached there a little more than ten years ago and remembered it as a warm welcoming congregation... much like their pastors at the time. They have since called another senior, and recently an new assistant pastor.

The entrance was clear. There was an entrance to the nursery just off of the narthex, but the functional entrance and check-in was around the bend from their fellowship hall; we just followed the young family in front of us. The nursery attendant seemed very sweet; I think she held Trevan the entire time he was there.

The sanctuary is attractive...not overly crowded, 'tho I would have used fewer banners. They made good use of natural light which also emphasized the simple wooden cross in front. The altar was up a couple steps behind the altar rail, a simple table with clean lines. The font was at the foot of the altar and held a shell with water. A few people used it to remember their baptism as they came up for communion.

This was their "contemporary" service. The liturgical parts (confession and absolution, prayers, etc.) were drawn from several settings from the new and older hymnals, but arranged in a different order. The song choices included everything from "Just a Closer Walk with Thee," to "Here I Am, Lord," and "Lord, Reign in Me." (We also sang "Face to Face" one of my favorites written by Steven & Jill Olson.)

If there was any energy, most of it came from a group of teens who had just returned from a trip. Everyone else, leaders and congregation, all seemed a bit tired, but polite, and not entirely cold. The 25-minute message almost had a couple strong images and points. Mac lead our little family up for communion and held out his hand for the bread; they didn't know what to do at first, but--after learning from Pauline that "Yes, he communes," they did give him the bread and wine. A couple people said a few welcoming things during the greeting and after the service, but no one asked whether we were visiting, or who we were...

hmmm...

Later, Mac and I took his tricycle down by the waterfront. As we went, I tried to keep him on the path, "Look at that, Daddy! See that bird? Look at that funny puppy! Look at that boat go; Wow!"

We pulled over for a long break to throw pebbles in the water. Mac got into it and Katy was relieved that none of them landed on her. As Mac preached and presided, this was my true worship and communion for the day.

Tomorrow, I head to the Grunewald Guild (http://www.artfaith.com/) near Leavenworth for a week. I will be taking a beginners class in oil painting. I am looking forward to the retreat time. I'm a little nervous--to be honest--about learning to paint. I've enjoyed sketching, but haven't really done any painting since acryllics and silk-screening in high school. I better like it, besides the class, the supplies already cost me quite a bit.

Sabbatical, Day 51

Over half-way!

Saturday, among other things, we ran up to Auburn. We snuck a peak at construction. Wow! Can really see the new shape now! Looks like there's a lot to do before August's ribbon cutting...
Then, we went for a walk on the Inter-urban Trail, with Mac making quite a journey on his tricycle. I irritated him by stopping frequently to take pics of bees and flowers with my new close-up lens. Not bad for a little Canon "PowerShot A85!" Here's a couple:



Yesterday we worshiped and had a good experience at Christ Lutheran, Lakewood WA. Before the service started, we really liked the large narthex/gathering space; easy to find everything like the nursery and library. People were gathered around tables, or standing in groups, but a few went out of there way to welcome us and introduce themselves. The coffee was slightly blocked by one group. Looks like they sometimes have trouble breaking up conversations in order to get worship started; when it was about time, a woman came out and walked through the crowd ringing a handbell. It did take people awhile to settle down even after worship started; I think they would have responded to a brief period of silent prayer before launching the confession and forgiveness.

They advertized it as their one "blended" summer service; they normally have traditional and contemporary during the program year. The liturgical order was fairly trad., but the music--except for the opening gospel tune, "Blessed Assurance"--was mostly '80's-'90's cont.-style. Some periods of "silence" were kept, esp. before prayers--though it always included a softly playing piano, which also played during the prayers. I usually like that, but would prefer some actual silence before the music comes in.

The Spirit was certainly present in the worship and message. The pastor is doing a series on Romans. They had just finished a week of VBS, so the Children's Message was some of the kids singing songs that they had learned, one of which was all about "choosing"... Choose Jesus, Choose to believe, Choose to obey/follow...etc. That was the VBS theme, apparently... ah well.

Mac loved the large nursery and attendants. He made sure to say goodbye to them and promised to return to play with them. When I signed Trevan in, they made sure to collect my info, including whether there was another adult who was allowed to pick him up. They collected my cell number and asked me to keep it on vibrate--and used it once when Trevan had a fit (apparently set off when a little girl started crying).

The library (with a volunteer attendant) is probably the best I've seen in a church of that size. The worship space is very attractive, in the round. The baptismal font is located at the entry, but was dry--Mac was disappointed as he wanted to dip his finger and wet his head. Worship is lead from the hexagonal Table which is central in the worship space.


Today, Pauline took Mac to MLC for his first week of VBS. Trevan and I are having fun playing instruments; (he's napping at the moment).

Sabbatical Reflections - Nat'l Cathedral & General

Late entry:

On Sunday, July 13, we considered going to worship at the National Cathedral, but instead, we returned to Luther Place Memorial Church, Washington D.C. Here's a couple pics:

Why? Because we wanted adequate facilities (i.e. a nursery) for our children, so that they could be with us up to the children's message, and then join us again for Communion. The Nat'l Cathedral isn't geared for this! hmmm...

I'm glad, actually. It was good to return and see what was consistent from our first visit, and also to hear the intern pastor (the "vicar") preach. Very good! One consistency, and something worth noting: both times, each preacher used characters featured in their stained-glass windows. When we first visited, it was Dietrich Bonhoeffer; last Sunday, it was the young joyful looking sower of the seeds. It's a reminder to preachers: use the art and elements that the people see around them every week to help shape their spirituality. It's also a reminder to leaders and churches, surround yourself with classical, biblical, and contemporary images so that the Bible, the message and the people can see and make use of these connections.

After lunching, we visited the National Cathedral (click) as tourists. Denominationally, it is an Episcopalian church. What I really liked was the fact that--as suggested above--the stained glass, the art, the memorials, statues, and even the gargoyles placed classical, Biblical, and contemporary images, figures and art alongside each other. It featured some of our national history, images of creation. (One of the stained glass windows features an actual small moon rock from the Sea of Tranquility - click to see.) There were beautiful long banners of contemporary art in simple colors flowing down the main support columns in the nave.

I enjoyed touring with Mac (3.5 years old) and asking him what these and other art looked like to him, i.e. "An airplane blasting off." When we went way up to the east altar(s), he knelt at each and then turned and stood like a tour guide, as he explained to everyone around him how the bread and the wine are given out here, and how you should walk and hold your hands and receive, and how that guy up there is Jesus and over there is an angel, and what she is doing, etc.
On the downside, I noticed accessibility wasn't great for people in wheelchairs or parents with strollers. The ramp access wasn't clearly marked, around the side and a relatively unattractive entry compared to the entrances welcoming the "normal" folk. The ample gift shop was down some steep stairs. Moreover, many of the separating markers for sacred spaces, or special seats were all there and modeled after the preceding cathedrals of Europe. Still, it was a very impressive and enjoyable visit!

Some things that I'm becoming more convinced of --

Respect for our worship spaces is a good thing. Inaccessibility is not; it needs to be eliminated. Granted: many of the spaces we've been visiting are--not only churches--but also historical and tourist sites; they need the protection of ropes and signs that say, "off-limits" because of those who don't care, or don't know how, to be respectful of sacred spaces. On the other hand, so many of the European cathedrals separate their "real" altar from the people by a chancel rail and pulpit platform, followed by a gate behind which are the choir stalls, followed by another gate/rail, followed by the seats reserved for the royalty. This is a long way from the design of the original church basilica, which were modeled after secular shopping halls and public buildings, ideally built for progression.

Yes, there was an intended movement in the original cathedrals toward greater mystery (respect, awe). Speaking generally, before 1000 AD, but after Constantine made it the national faith, worship began near the entry, around a large baptismal font. Before worship started, this was an appropriate place for conversation, greetings, welcoming one another, catching up.

The worship might begin with a general welcome by the presider, and an indication of what was to follow.
Around the font, an actual Baptism, or a reminder of the meaning of these waters began the worship and progression, with music or songs to help lead them throughout the progression.
Usually, instrumentation included lute strings (what we might call guitars) and/or flutes--a sort of "praise-band"--with singers. (It would be a long time before adequate organs or pianos would be built!)

The assembly would then literally move from around the font, or at least turn, deeper into the hall where the Bible was read and the preacher would respond with a message--usually from a small scripture table (not a podium/pulpit. In many ways it was meant to reflect the table of Holy Communion, i.e. the Word-feast of scripture and sermon, followed by the Word-feast of the sacrament).

The Creeds, though well-known, and used and recited in catechesis, were not commonly a part of worship until well after 1000 AD. Rather, this was the time when people would offer the exchange (kiss) of peace--in reference to Christ's guidance that before bringing their gifts to the altar, they should make sure there was no enmity between them. As they exchanged this peace, they were moving further toward the Communion Table, bringing and presenting their gifts of food and money for those in need, as well as the bread and wine which was all placed on or near the Table. They would gather in a semi- or full-circle around the Table. (It was--in the earliest stages--purposefully modeled after a "table" and not a sacrificial "altar," even though the connection of Christ's sacrifice which fulfilled all altar sacrifices was made... So, the quick progression toward a more substantial "altar" is understandable.)

Over all these gifts and elements, the presider would pray--on behalf of, and possibly including/leaving room for, the people's prayers. After recalling Jesus' own words, commands and promises over the meal, the bread and wine was distributed to all initiated Christians.

After this, they quickly disbursed. Some worshipers (the original acolytes) were charged by the presider with bearing the food, gifts, and/or the remaining communion elements to those needy, sick or unable to attend that Sunday morning's worship.

This progressive movement dissolved in the Western churches. The separation of the masses from the Communion altar and eastern end was modeled after the special favors and division of the royalty from the masses, and modeled after the kind of dignity they felt would honor the King of kings. More and more, church interiors began to resemble castles and homes in which your access to the private royal rooms depended on your social standing.

AND (as Dr. Sam Torvend mentioned a few months ago in our adult forum) there was the addition of PEWS! which successfully "nailed people to their seats," whether standing or sitting at appropriate times. If you were unlucky enough to be a "normal" person, you could hardly hear, or see, or be a part of what was actually happening around the altar during what was supposed to be--at the same time--BOTH mysterious AND intimate. (Praying the rosary, and a number of other traditions, began as grass-roots ways of worshipfully biding-time during the Communion!)


The point of all this is--we should respect our sacred spaces--but, in my opinion, inaccessibility to the building, the font, the scripture table and pulpit, and the Communion Table should be eliminated wherever we can (with proper education, patience, time, understanding, etc.). Many churches are reconfiguring their seats around all these elements to do this.

A good example we saw was St. Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh, Scotland. They reconfigured themselves in the 1800's! The font was at the entrance, with enough space for the congregation to stand around during a baptism. Both pews and chairs were placed in a horseshoe pattern around the lectern, and massive pulpit and the large covered Table, which was under the main dome and just about dead-center in the sanctuary.


Liturgically, there should be good use of appropriate time and permission for people to talk and greet, and then--using gestures, silence, and helpful words--we progress through these four simple parts of the liturgy: Welcome (an explicit time to gather, converse; it's not normal to walk into anyone's house--not even God's--without a time of welcome!), Wash (confession and baptismal promises of absolution, or an actual baptism), Feast (the Word-feast of Scripture, Sermon, Offering, Prayers and Communion), and Freedom (the sending of God's renewed disciples into the mission field of the world).

Sabbatical, Day 46

Reiner and Geiger in SiMPLE CHURCH suggest that you can begin to arrive at your church's purpose by finishing this statement with 3-4 action or descriptive words: "Disciples at Our Church are..."


Or, use them to describe your purpose (what we do): "The purpose of Our Church is to..."

Or as a vision (how we do it): "Our Church, where people are..."

Instead of having multiple statements of purpose, vision, discipleship, etc., the same 3-4 descriptors are used, and these same 3-4 descriptors are used to define and direct all of the ministry of the congregation.


I was reflecting back on this, but also the several other books I've read, Re-Pitching the Tent, Liturgy and the Arts, and now A Sense of the Sacred, and in these books, they often spoke of how the central elements and sacraments of worship should have a primary role--not only in shaping the building, spaces and art of each church--but in motivating and forming the church's social outreach, evangelism, and discipleship.


If so, the central sacraments are, of course, Baptism and Communion. These welcome us into the worshiping body, they wash us, feed us, and finally they proclaim our freedom from sin. They provide the ability, motivation and model for our response in the world.


This might be the simple outline of every liturgical service: At Our Church, we are 1. Welcomed (into the presence of the Triune God), 2. Washed (by a reminder of the promises of Baptism, i.e. a confession and proclamation of forgiveness), 3. Fed (by the Word in scripture, sermon and communion), and 4. Freed (by all of these for generosity and service in the world).

I don't intend this as the answer, but part of the discussion that some of us are having about our vision or purpose.
It is my hope that disciples at our church are welcomed (& welcoming), washed (& washing), fed (& feeding), freed (& freeing).


Below is a sketch I made as I thought about this.



We should provide a place of welcome, of hospitality. People are welcomed not only to worship and in our liturgy, but to our facility, our activities and programs (like ALPHA, Family Events, VBS, Music Camp, concerts, musicals, neighborhood dinners?). Like so many roots, people come from many different paths into the main stem.

We could provide a place to wash. Literally, we provide a place for people to take a shower, to clean themselves (& their clothes?). Through our mission work around the world, we provide soap and other means for people to feel clean, dignified, housed, clothed and warm. In our worshiping community, Christ's Baptism and every time we receive forgiveness, we are reminded that we have been washed clean of sin, life's sludge. In truth, every Sunday, we hear how God has drowned the old and raised us new. We carry that promise of grace, humility, and forgiveness into our community and world. This is the water of grace that flows from the Source, our Baptism, and through our lives.

We are a place where people are fed. MLC has many social events around food. Community groups have access to our kitchen and dining facilities. We provide a weekly lunch to local high schoolers, and a place for them to bring their lunches. We provide free groceries through our food bank, as well as a place to sit for a cup of coffee (soup/sandwich?). Cookies are sent to prisons, and care packages to college students. Meals are often provided to members and friends in crises. Spiritually, people are fed by the Word of Scripture, the Sermon, and Communion. Our small groups feed deeply on the Word of scripture and mutual prayer. Christ's Table is extended through our generous giving in our offering, gifts to Emergency Needs in our Community, Lutheran World Relief and Lutheran Disaster Relief.

We provide a place where people are freed. We proclaim freedom from sin, that Christ has freed us from worrying about our salvation. (Grace alone!) We express our freedom through our generous and loving service. Our ministry groups include choirs, women's group, quilters, and much more. We provide hands on service through Christmas Hampers, local clean up work, mission trips. Our goal is to help others who are held down to experience some of the love, compassion and care that Christ has given us. These joyful expressions of our freedom are the fruits of our faith.


I could simplify it even more--we are here as a connection to the Source of Life. What is life-giving? A place of harbor, water, food. But it is freedom, the freedom of Christ, that truly makes us alive and life-giving! To be a source of life in our community!

As a personal purpose, I pray that people will sense the source of life in and through me!

Sabbatical, Day 42

Wow, how to catch up on the last several days?

After Edinburgh, Scotland, we took the train to Stratford-Upon-Avon, to stay overnight in one of the oldest inns: the White Swan. They have a neat painting preserved on the wall of their dining room that dates to the mid-1500's and illustrates the Apocryphal story of Tobit. That evening we watched the Royal Shakespeare Company perform the Merchant of Venice. So cool! The costuming suggested early 1900's. The stage and props were minimal, but so well-used and exact. Like the three chests of gold, silver and lead from the story, they were made with what looked like ice blocks, which all shattered at an appropriate dramatic moment. They used the rims of crystal glasses for some of the music, and in ways that added to the stage art and affects in several neat ways. The actor that played the difficult role of Shylock was very good; you could almost understand his anger and desire for revenge.

Anyway, we also visited Shakespeare's birthplace, and Holy Trinity Church where he is buried with his wife and several family members up in front of the east altar.

We returned by train and underground to our London hotel. Before flying back to the States, we visited the National Gallery of London, Trafalger Square, St. Martin's in the Fields, Speakers' Corner, the Sherlock Holmes Museum, and walked by Buckingham Palace during the changing of the guard.

Yesterday, it was so nice to see the boys at the airport. They have been having a great time with their godparents in D.C.--the zoo, a waterpark, visiting their godfather's workplace, and many other activities. We will visit the National Cathedral tomorrow, and on Monday we will drive up to visit Pauline's godparents near Baltimore.