WHAT RICHARD WAGAMESE KNOWS - BEAUTIFUL

I know mountains because I have stood on precipices and breathed.

I know prairie because I have lain on my back and been absorbed by the sky.

I know the ocean because I have immersed myself in it and felt the pull of its current. If I want to know life, I need to experience its wonder and breathe it in with every breath.

If I want to know possibility, I need to see its immensity and allow it to absorb me.  If I want to know faith, I need to surrender to it and feel it pulling me in its unseen direction. 

~ Richard Wagamese, Embers - One Ojibway's Meditations, Douglas & McIntyre, 2016  ~

GREAT GIFTS OF COMMUNITY

I've known for quite a few years now, the blessings that I receive as a member of this community.  Community is something that I often take for granted, until a day comes along when I am reminded what a precious and priceless gift it is to be one in the circle of lives in our faith community.

I've had a few of those days recently and I hope you have too.  If you haven't, take a chance and come to church some Sunday.  That's where the gifts of community have found me.

Gifts, you ask?  What kind of gifts do we receive by coming to church?

I can't speak for you, but I can tell you what my experience has been.  The gifts start in that 15-minute segment before the service begins, when I meet people I haven't seen for a while.  Sometimes it been a week since I last saw you, and sometimes it's been longer; but, however long it's been, I'm joyful to see you again.  We talk about the weather, your children and grandchildren, your aches and pains, the things that are good in your life and those that aren't.  There will be music playing in the background to remind us we are in church.

Then, someone will bring us to attention and we worship together.  There are announcements, there is prayer, there is more music - music of the best kind, that we sing together.  If we are lucky, some folks offer a personal gift of music and we can just sit there and enjoy that together.  Every time we gather like this, we hear stories told, stories from long ago about how people lived in their world and with God.  Someone will also stand up and tell us a personal story...a minister or someone who just has a story to share.  At some point in our time together, we all get a chance to offer up gifts of time, talent and treasure and no matter what we offer, we are blessed and thanked for what we can give.

On most occasions, we have a chance to eat and drink together - this is a very special gift of communion-ity; it might be a tiny glass of grape juice and a miniscule square of bread; or, it could be coffee and tea and sweets - or if it's really a special occasion, we'll have a full meal of some sort.  However and whatever we eat, the important thing is we will do it together.

The most precious of blessings that I receive in community is when someone shares something deeply personal with me.  It might be something that terrifies or hurts them - but they want me to know what they know.  It might also be something that is wonderful in their life and they just want me to understand how thankful they are to be part of it, or to laugh with them.  Whatever it might be, the core of what they are sharing is vulnerability.  I understand that it is because we are in the circle of community that it can be shared.

Come to church and share in the gifts.

May the Lord bless us and keep us, be gracious to us and give us peace.

Pat

WHEN THINGS FALL APART - THE DANFORTH

I’m writing  about what happened on the Danforth a month ago...because I know a mother and a daughter who were close to that event.  Mother and daughter were both feeling the aftermath of the shootings and I didn't need to be told how distressing and upsetting that was.  It was close to home in many ways.

I’ll admit up front, this is one of those occasions when I feel deeply the poverty of words.  I can’t begin to understand the experience; being at safe arms-length from the tragedy, I am uncertain and searching for what I should be thinking and feeling.

I have a sense that it’s too easy to offer the standard condolences...”my thoughts and prayers are with the family and friends of those”...that sort of thing doesn’t seem to do the job.  It might make me feel better, but it is a fleeting relief at best.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what my reaction should be.  As in most things of this significance, I go to trusted sources – often books – that can shine a light on what’s important.  It’s not a matter of learning lessons, although that’s important.
For me, it’s the need to find my roots again, to regain my capacity for hope.
Hope is a great antidote for fear.

And in reading, I was reminded once again, that hope and love are linked.
If it is true that love is greater than hope, it’s because we cannot have hope without a degree of love.  Love has the power to project hope out into the world and out into the future.

What I felt after the shootings, in addition to fear, was the lack of love and hope.
The fear is lessening now (time will do that), and hope is leading me back to solid ground.
Hope and love will be necessary because we have to go on living in a world that is constantly and intensely challenged by fear.

So here we are, just a month after the fact, still seeking to make sense of everything...and it comes down to love and hope.  I’ll set aside the fact that hope remains vulnerable to disappointment.  I’ll regain the degree of hope that will let me imagine what better times might fall into place again.  I’ll think about what I can do bring that about.

It’s a good thing we have our family and friends at this time.
I hope that you can stay close to yours.  They’re a source of love and hope.

Pat

OPEN AND WELCOMING - WE'RE WORKING ON IT

Our vision statement at First United tells us that we are creating an open and welcoming community, led by the Love of God.  I wonder what people think that means.  I wonder what you think it means. 

I know we approved and adopted a new, equal marriage policy just about 12 months ago, but as significant a step as that was, I wonder if people think we've fulfilled our vision.  Do you?  I've got this feeling that as a faith community, we will always be working to make our vision a reality.  It's the sort of endeavour that, just when I think I've reached the top of the mountain, I look up and see another higher peak to climb. 

I'm certain that given the opportunity to think about it, each of us would come up with a different mental picture of what "open and welcoming" looks like.  You might see things that need to be done that no one else does when it comes to living into our vision as a faith community.  I came across a bit of a "road map" for congregations that are moving ahead on the path towards becoming open and welcoming. 

Here are the directions for that journey:

(1)  I must question my biases.  If I think I have no biases, I need to look deeper - to look with a different perspective.

(2)  I must challenge my assumptions and judgements.  How well do I really know the person or people about whom I have made assumptions?  Not well enough - it's time for a reset.

(3)  I must notice who is missing...when I gather with others in community - for worship, for a meal, for music, who isn't present, and why aren't they there?

(4)  I must value all voices.  This is hard - it's easy to value the opinion of people I agree with...but what about someone who holds a different view of things?  What about someone who doesn't believe in what I believe?

(5)  I must aim for equity.  Equity is a fancy term for a simple concept that we know as the Golden Rule.  Treating others as we would like to be treated.

It's not easy being an open and welcoming community, led by the Love of God.  Living into such a vision means accepting the reality that our vision will be the life-work of our church.  That's what it means to be disciples of Jesus.

As we start out on the Way of life each day, may our footsteps be guided by love and hope.

Pat

HOPE NOT FEAR - LOVE NOT ANGER

A couple of weeks ago, I sat with friends in a coffee shop and the discussion evolved around what books we had been reading over the summer.  I think it's been a great summer for reading - the heat and the humidity have made it easy to sit on a shady deck with a cold drink and work my way through the books I've had on my shelves for months.  I think I've easily averaged a couple of books a week. 

Some books standout for their inspirational qualities: books that make you think, question and wonder.  There have been many times when I have written down a special line or passage and said to myself, "I wish I'd thought of that."

One author wrote about the things that she wanted her children to learn and practice in their lives as they grew up...the sort of habits and lessons that will make their living meaningful and fulfilling.  She wrote about how we act and what we think shapes our intentions.  I found myself nodding my head in silent agreement with her words of encouragement and guidance: if we start out from a basis of love and hope, things tend to go in a positive direction.  And, what might be more important, when our intentions are infused with hope, love, generosity and compassion, we will be in a better place even when the outcome is not what we expected.

I immediately felt the wisdom of that woman's words to her children.  There are many things in life that are beyond my understanding and out of my control.  But, that doesn't mean that the choices I make are unimportant when it comes to experiencing the ups and downs of life.  I know I can make my life miserable if my outlook is dominated by fear or anger.  Instead, I can make life worth the living by starting out every day with love and hope shaping my intentions.  May it be so.

As we start out on the Way of life each day, may our footsteps be guided by love and hope.

Pat

HERE'S THE DEAL - FROM RICHARD WAGAMESE

My deal with Creator is this: I'm dragging a sack of old worries, hurt, anger, doubt and fear up a long hill trying to get to the other side, to relief, to healing. 

Creator says: If you need a hand, I'm here. 

You pull and I'll push. 

I say: Really? 

Creator says: I promise that I will always be
there to help you.  But there's a catch. 

I say: What's the catch? 

Creator says: You have to pull first.

~ Richard Wagamese, Embers, 2016, Douglas & McIntyre ~

I know that not all of you are as digitally connected as I am; I also know that many of you are much more linked through your devices than I ever will be.  I spend most of my digital time at my desk top computer - easily three to four hours a day.  My cell phone is at my side all the time, but I tend to use it mostly as a phone, occasionally as a camera, infrequently for texting and seldom for the dozens of other uses it is capable of.  I also bought an iPad back in 2015 and I rarely use it...it just takes up space on my desk.

A few months ago, there was an article in a magazine about making a digital sabbath.  The author was someone who was never disconnected from the world wide web.  She did not like the fact that she was now in the habit of checking her smart phone dozens of times an hour; she was spending so much time "staying in touch" that it was forcing a different pace to her life.  And, she noticed that all of the time she spent on her gadgets was actually reducing the quality of the personal relationships that she treasured.  She felt that she was losing her ability to distinguish between what was important (deserving of time) and what wasn't a high priority.  Technology was taking over her life.

When I read that story, my reaction was "Me too!"  Last weekend, I decided to do something about it.  At 8 pm Saturday night, I shut off my computer - totally and completely.  Not just on sleep mode, but actually off.  I also took my smart phone and disabled anything except the phone function.  I did not use my computer, my phone or my iPad until 8 am on Monday morning.  I did not watch TV.  I did not listen to the radio.  I took a digital sabbath, except for the monitor at church.

The sabbath is deeply rooted in our past; it was common, only a couple of generations ago, for most of us to take a day out of our week and not work: rest, play, enjoyment and renewal...but no paid work.  Our ancestors actually fought hard not to have to work seven days a week; it was a hard-won battle.  My digital sabbatical had that same focus.

How did I put in my time?  Saturday evening, I sat out on the front deck and I relaxed, read a book, watched and listened to the birds.  I went to bed when it got dark and read a bit more before falling asleep.  Sunday morning after breakfast, I harvested some beans at the church garden before attending worship.  After church and lunch, I read some more; I relaxed on the porch and even dozed off for a bit.  I chatted with Thom and Marnie, went swimming, and chatted with the neighbours and their kids.  I wrote some cards and letters to friends.  I went to bed when it got dark and read until I fell asleep.

Monday morning, I felt I'd had a break, I felt refreshed, like I'd been living at a different pace.  It reminded me of the start of summer holidays when I was a child.  As I turned on my computer, I felt grateful, rather than resentful, for what technology had to offer.  I did not feel dread at the number of emails or texts that I might face after 36 hours of being disconnected.  There would be time for all of that.

Our ancestors were grateful for a day of rest; I've no doubt their sabbath day was not all leisure, but I'm pretty certain it was time to restore the heart, body and soul. 

My digital sabbath felt so good, I'm going to do it again.

May we all live in the wonderful mystery of the Spirit.

Pat