More recently, as I continue to not be presented with a call, and I struggle with the office I am in, I find myself casting off the shackles that constrain me. I’m starting to allow myself to more fully embrace, and be aware of the embrace. One such move was a private act that I did at Bread for the World (will probably be mentioned in Pt3 of those reflections so no spoiling it here). others I have done for some time, particularly when I was serving as a chaplain in a hospital, though there I still limited myself a bit..

Tomorrow, I’ll push a bit, prod a bit. Nothing I will do tomorrow is against any official Community of Christ policy,  it won’t be the first time for most of what takes place, but it may push some comfort boundaries of some, push against some traditions, understandings of some. (Though much of what I will do that will push those I can find in official resources statements saying that it is perfectly fine for me to do these things). Though some of the pushing of boundaries would not be  so if I held the office which reflect my callings, gifts, and talents at this time and place in my life of ministry. Perhaps the largest push in this area will be the prayer that will conclude a sermon, which in and of itself could push (and rightly so) some comfort levels in seeking to propel the community into embracing the sacramental encounter, and the call of discipleship a bit further…

The thing is, I have come to realize law and policy while formed often with good intentions, do not always lead to good results and sometimes hamper needed ministry.. and I must start to embrace my calling and become for fully the disciple and minister I am called to be. Regardless of weather I have been ordained to the office of my current calling.

All are invited to worship with us at Tuality Community of Christ, tomorrow 3 July 2011 at 10:40am PDT. The table is open to all who wish to partake of the sacramental meal. Service planed by my mom. I will be preaching and also presiding over the service.

Peace,

No, the above is not what happened right at the end of the last post, for between then and this I went into another building, met more people and sat through an orientation session, which covered things I already knew by having been involved with Bread, and a little bit of new about the national gathering. But the above sets the stage for several of the experiences of Saturday and Sunday, well except for the food, typically just water, tea, coffee… was there not the cheese and fruit…

In this room with tables draped with many colours, centerpieces with beans upon them, I found myself one of many. I found myself in a few ways transported to the wonderful experiences of my seminary past. For I sat in community at the table, with people of faith, engaging, growing, learning in it. The preacher for our opening worship was Rev.  Dr. Frank Thomas. When I heard his name my mind went “why do I know him” and then I realized, he was the author of one of my seminary texts for one of the homiletics courses I took. They Like to Never Quit Praisin’ God: The Role of Celebration in Preaching still resides within my collection of books. The scripture text for his sermon was Matthew 6:11 “Give us this day our daily bread.” As he proclaimed the good news, as he expounded upon this text, he and the Spirit with him brought forth passion and inspiration, new insight and awareness, along with old.  As he explored the manna, talked of Moses and the people, about today and the needs of this world.  As he talked about the sharing with all and the non hording of food. Talk of the need to ask of the holy, not expect, not demand… many were moved.  As he preached and proclaimed the good news, as he challenged us, as he spoke of being prophetic as speaking truth to those in power AND truth to those denied power. He spoke of how it is US not me, not you not some of us, but all of us… (I wish I wrote this early and thus express more clearly his words than now several weeks out I can). It was a wonderful and powerful experience, as as Rev. Thomas spoke and I quoted him in a tweet saying “Capitalism deserves to be critiqued… [it] will never end poverty” I learned my friend from seminary had arrived as was present in the arena for she tweeted at about the same time: "capitalism will never end poverty" and that the faith community must humanize capitalism.

That’s all for an in-depth reflection I shall give of the services and sessions of Saturday, we had another one where the David Beckman, president of Bread for the World spoke, and also we spent time in regional groups (the reason for the coloured tables). Good things were said, I learned things, but I was also starting to wear down a bit after being up so long with so little sleep… It was after the Opening Worship as I was leaving the area to head out to dinner in another building I encountered my friend in seminary, we shared in conversation, meal often in the next few days… It was good to have a companion at the event that saw with eyes opened from a view similar yet different than my own, to digest and process all that streamed into my head that weekend.

At the close of the final plenary we went to “The tavern” for social time, an odd name for a place on a dry campus, and then with a few young college students we took a risky drive on a golf cart and walked around a Methodist seminary next to the Methodist University we were at. A Lutheran and a Community of Christ person, who had gone to a different Methodist Seminary now here one another one (which I think was not as nice of a campus, and much smaller than the one we had gone to). Then finally after all the explorations, I would find my self back at the dorm, my room, and to my surprise my roommate still not present… he never did show… and sleep finally arrived over 34 hours since I had awaken the morning before…

Till next time…

(sorry for the delay in these, I had meant to reflect on the whole gathering the week I had returned, but life sometimes makes one busy…)

Peace,

Friday was the execution, it didn’t hit me, at least not right away. I mean this great man, this miracle worker, this person who could see through the masks and cloaks I wear and see the real me was executed. You know this man who said hey you, you are of worth, you are loved, now go and love. This man who said that I and you could change the world, this man who preached and expounded the Holy’s love, who lived it, and told of a better day, a day when we would all love one another, a day when our willingness to engage the Holy’s love and each other would bring about much needed healing and restoration to the world that the Holy created and called good, was killed in horrific fashion by the government. We thought he was going to be with us, and now he is dead… except that was nearly 2000 years ago… We know the story of what happens, but this time of year I pause, and go… No I don’t know the story… I let my body flow through the cycle of life that is before us. I allow myself to grieve, to wait… unknowing that which I know. So the execution, this horrific act, sometimes hits me right away, but it didn’t.

It took time, it wasn’t till Saturday evening, as my body ached, and screamed stories of being tired and worn out to me and needing rest that I finally felt that execution. I finally started to morn executed Christ. Part of that morning was about the ways I have stumbled, the ways I have failed to live in response to the message He proclaimed, and I feel called to live. Part of it was the realization of how worn out I feel, how I struggle to engage the Holy when life seems full of stumbling blocks, when I find it hard to find the doorways and pathways, and trails and… that I can engage to help share the love of the one who was just executed, be it many many years ago. In my mind last night I went, “I don’t think I’ll be ready to celebrate the good news in the morning…”  I wonder what the early disciples would have thought had they realized the resurrection that was to come, a resurrection hinted at, but not understood by them. I wonder what they thought, not knowing… I wonder how it is that we find ourselves sometimes executing the Christ representation which we are called to be… you know how we fail to act, how we fail to share, to love, to heal… 

Last night, I went… I’ll go to the tomb, and if I find it empty… I think I’ll just sit there, I don’t think I’ll be able to embrace the realization of the empty tomb, I won’t be able to understand the messengers, or see the reality I encounter as I see the Christ… When I first awoke, the sun yet to rise, I still was in that place, but when I awoke with the rising sun, and as I heard the birds chirping outside, I knew different. Christ has risen, yes indeed.  Still I want to sit and ponder at the empty Tomb, but I am seeing, I am realizing the reality that it points towards, the hope and truth found in that emptiness, and emptiness which is full. Full of love, of peace, of hope, of strength. Strength to go forth and bring healing to a broken world. Hope, that I too can be restored, healed resurrected from the depths of my struggles, into the creation that the Holy formed and called good. Hope that I can find the pathway I need to embrace to be one of many proclaiming the peace of Christ, sharing that peace, sharing the love, and bring forth the peaceable community where all are loved, where creation is known to be sacred, the worth of all is known, respected, and embraced by all, where relationships a whole and healed… you know the community Jesus the  Christ proclaimed, lived taught… the peaceable community, aye even Zion (as my tradition would say).

My mind ahs drifted to 2 Easter’s past. I was serving an internship as a Hospital Chaplain, and was on duty that Sunday Morning. As such I lead the Sunday worship service, gave the Easter message to a group of perhaps 20-30 gathered in the Hospital Chapel. As the service came to an end, the pager on my hip buzzed, and soon afterwards I found myself sharing with a family, and with medical personnel in the last moments of their loved one / patient’s life as they maid the decisions that would bring a form of peace and healing, but also a form of loss. It was not my last visit with them that day. I’m not 100% sure why this memory comes to mind, why I can see the cards taped to the wall, the face of the young D.O., the nurses, the patient.. at this moment in time. What I can say is in this encounter, and in this memory, I find myself saying “What.. The Tomb is Empty ‽ What shall I do, how will I respond? How will my life be different with the awareness of the continuing presence of the Holy, who can I, you, us live out the resurrection of Christ. How can we keep that mission going, How will we Live the mission and hope of Christ this day?”  I find myself as well, knowing a bit more about myself, and the ways I have to serve, and hope that I will find that path, even if at times it is hard to see past the emptiness, and find the fullness that resides within it…

So let us stand from our pondering, and start to live the peace, passion, and mission of  Christ. Let us allow ourselves to be healed, to be “resurrected” and go forth and do help heal, restore “resurrect” all of creation…

Peace be with us all

Technically I have lived in everyplace I have ever been, at least to my knowledge, but for the sake of this posts I’ll limit it the discussion to dwelling places which I may have called home, received mail at, I will exclude hospitals, places I visited, drove through, walked through, spent a night or two at, camps, DR Congo… etc. Since I was born I have lived in the following States: Oregon, Illinois, Iowa, Wyoming, Washington, and Ohio. Within these states I have lived within at least 12 cities, since I was 2.5 I can recall living in at least 21 buildings, some of which I moved from and then moved back to, in at least three of these buildings I lived in, I also lived in different dwelling spaces, (apartments/dorm rooms etc…), within them. Before I was 2.5 I know I lived in a few other places as well. I am fairly certain I will move many more times in my future, and I am at peace with that thought, and would be sad if it was not so.

But this move is different. Once again with this move I find myself moving to a place I have been before, a part of the world that is home for me, a place filled with wonderful nature that is healing, but a place where I know I am not suppose to spend much time. While this rests upon me, I know that space of healing is part of the motivation behind the move. What is most different though is the sense of sadness that falls upon me as I start this move. I don’t quite recall feeling this way at other times, even though I have often moved away from friends and family who meant much to me (and still do mean much) this time it just feels different.

Perhaps it is the length of my goodbye, sharing it with a few close friends about 6 or 8 weeks before the departure and then slowly expanding the circle, longer than most, much shorter than that of College. Much shorter than when I fell ill while living in Seattle, for I became ill many came around me, supported me, and I thought I wouldn’t leave and then things took a turn for the worse and I was gone without really saying goodbye in person to anyone. So I never had the long, surprise goodbye…

This time however, it comes quickly, and for some, including myself as a surprise. As I say good, my heart twinges with sadness, I see people who I have come to know well, dear friends, church goers,  co workers who have become friends and mean more to me than I realized, co workers who perhaps are not to be titled “friend” but yet still mean much to me and  more… Perhaps it is the sense that I am disappointing some of them as I step down from roles, duties, that they have come to expect from me. Perhaps it is because, they mean more to me than I came to realize before, and I wish they could come with me. Perhaps it is hard for me to deal with people expressing how they will miss me, and what I do for them and for the communities in which we share in common.

When I hear them express the tears that came upon hearing, the loss they see or feel, when I see the sadness in their eyes, it becomes hard. When I think of the good times, and as I wonder about missed opportunities  of past and potential of the future if I stayed, I find sadness ring through my heart and soul. When I think of two brothers, the sons of friends of mine, the joy, wonder, and excitement they bring to life, I know I will miss them for they and their parents are like family to me, I don’t want to have to say good bye… though in saying goodbye to them I will go and get a chance to know two girls each about 6 moths older than them, who are family to me, nieces I barely know along with their older brother and sister and also my Sister, their mother. But the thing is you can’t trade one for the other, I will miss this family that is a part of my family, even if not by blood. I will miss my dear friend, whoi I spent many a night talk with, watching movies with, eating with, reflecting with. I will miss several of my co-works, who as I said, I have come to realize over the past couple of weeks mean much more to me, and are more a part of my life than I had thought.

I’m leaving a place filled with friends, and near friends, and coworkers I like to work with (and some who may quickly fade from active memory), and church family to go to a place filled with family and church family, but few friends, that is few friends who know me, few friends who have any idea of the past few years of my life, of who I am, of who I dream to be. I hope new friends will form, I am sure they will…

But still I am surprised by the long sad goodbye that fills me, and realized when one coworker said to me today that she heard I was leaving (she heard on the first day anyone at work knew, but I guess this was our first time talking about non work since), and asked if I might in the future be out this way again, and I said it was possible… And she said if I do, to make sure I stop in and say hello, I hope I do, at least to visit, as I continue my journey and the moves that are before me. Or as others expressed I would be welcomed back here, or where they see themselves transition to in the future, or seeking the grasp of a friendly hug of farewell, or offering a wonderful smile, mixed with sadden eyes. I ponder the words of the parishioners who expressed the loss they felt personally, congregationally, communally for my departure, and hope especially for the ones who expressed it in terms of their personal loss ministerial wise, that they find a pastoral minister who will be able to listen and be present for them, and not blind to the struggles of those who feel left out of the cliques that exists within that community… and what their needs are that are not being addressed, or are overridden because “that’s how we always have done it” or “we don’t see the problem, and so it must not be one…”

I am surprised how many of the people out here, people I have know or just a couple of months, a year, three or four, or in the case of some 10, (I think that is the longest I have known anyone out here, but I could be wrong), I know I will miss greatly. I am also surprised there is a sense of loss from leaving a part of the country filled with people I went to seminary with, knowing I have not physically seen many of them since graduating, and yet still it feels a goodbye to them as well.

Perhaps a part of the sadness is I leave a place I know, people I care about, for a place I once knew, people I care about, but without full understanding of why, or for what purpose, or for how long, or where next, or when will be the next… it is just an empty unknown, mixed with hints of future possibilities, twinged with sadness homing I am leaving at the right time, and not the wrong time, hoping the time doesn’t keep me from meeting her, or if already met realizing she is her… or preventing blocking, delaying ministry that is needed in particular places…

My heart aches, by body weeps, at yet they long for the healing breath of the Spirit found within the rain forests, coasts, and volcanoes to which I go. I hope this time of healing, and reflection will lead me toward greater embrace and understanding of the path I walk on as I journey through life and seek to minister to all of the Holy’s creation as I am called to do… Respecting each life journey, and each one’s understandings of the holy be they similar or vastly different from my own, and aiding them all in and where they are to experience a peace, a hope, a love, and a worth that I understand and express through my Christian faith and they may define and understand in very different ways of faith or life being. Yet, also with open hand and arm, share for those who are seeking a spiritual home the peace of Christ and invite them into sacred community formed in the name of the One who suffered on behalf of all…(Doctrine and Covenants 161:3a)…

Peace be with you all,