Details, Details...

So, this blog has been sitting dormant for a while and I feel like it's time to start using it for it's other intended purpose.  Originally, this blog was formed to document my journeys and spiritual discoveries during my month in Scotland.  But, my hope is that it might also be a forum for theological thought, reflection and conversation (with a good bit of life's humor thrown in).

So, this post is not only a reflection but an invitation.  I am excited about the potential for discussion and thought.  And, never be afraid to disagree with me (lots of people do...ha).  And off we go...

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Lately, as part of my devotions in the morning, I have been reading back through the Old Testament.  I am now smack in the middle of what I consider to be the tedious part of Exodus which outlines the exact measurements and details for the tabernacle, the vestments for Aaron and his sons, and all the materials needed to build the tabernacle and the ark.  I was specifically reading Exodus 24-26 the other morning and I began to wonder:  doe God really care about details like curtain embroidery and decorative cherubim that much?!?!  I mean, seriously.  Is God that invested in interior design?  Don't get me wrong.  I went to seminary.  I know about the "Priestly" editors that put much of this material concerning the rules and regulations of the faith in the Old Testament.  However, details concerning the exact colors of the fabric of the tabernacle, the inlaid embroidery, even the gold clips, begs a deeper question:  How much does God care or how much is God really invested in the details of our lives?

For example, does God care what i do with my career? or dating life? or "free time" (I use that term loosely)?  Does God care about my eating habits or how clean my house is?  It sounds silly on one hand.  After all, I think God has much bigger problems to worry about than whether or not my dishes are clean.  But, on the other hand, God caring about the details has deep implications for how we interact with God and live our lives.

I am coming more and more to believe that God does care about the detail because it is the cumulative details that make up the whole of who we are and who we become.

After all, if our greatest claim as people of faith is that we are deeply, fully, (even absurdly) loved by God, wouldn't God care about every moment of our lives?  I think of people I love deeply.  Or, even more, I think of someone I love and feel protective of like my sister.  When I talk on the phone with my sister or get that chance to visit with her in person, we rarely talk about life-changing issues in our lives or in the world.  We talk about details.  And I hang on every word with such fascination and joy that you would think she was telling me the cosmic formula for world peace.  But, because I love her so much and, as her older sister, feel a certain investment in her life, those details are not only fascinating, but important to me.  They help me understand who she is more completely as the details are really what make up our everyday lives.

So, why should a God who not only loves us, but created us, and is invested in us so deeply not feel the same?  Wouldn't God be equally (if not more) invested in the details of our lives?

One caveat.  There is a difference in my mind between God caring about and controlling the details of our lives.  As a loving Creator, I don't think God is a puppet-master dictating the details of our lives.  Nor do I think that God changes God's mind on how much we are loved or cared for based on what sandwich I decide to order to lunch.  But, I believe God cares.  God cares deeply that we take care of our bodies and minds and souls every day.  God cares deeply how we treat people we encounter, even if it is just a head nod at someone while waiting for an elevator.  I think God cares that we live in a way that is in harmony with one another and creation.  And those aren't necessarily big things--they are the little details and minutiae that make up our day-to-day lives.

And, of course, thanks be to God there is always the gift of grace and forgiveness for when we get the details wrong!

Prague

Prague is an amazing city with so much to see and do! We did everything from take a bus tour to explore the castle to sit at the monastery. Probably,y the best partofthe day weas exploring the monastery. It is much less busy. The abbey church is beautiful and we even got to explore the cloisters which was awesome. Then we just sat in the bier garden drinking beer that thte monks made. It was delics. Now I'm not normally too much of a beer drinker, but this stuff was delicious! We had beer, goulash soup, and fried camembert cheese with cranberries (a local speciality). it was so delicious and fun watching all the people and sitting and talking!

After, we decided we would take the Funicular rail down the castle hill to the river. And we got all turned around getting to the upper station. At one point we walked by and abandoned stadium and then through apartments that were clearly remnants of the Communiset era. It was a little creepy, but hilarious. The people who lived there and were walking around seemed as confused as us as to why we were up there. Finally we found the Funicular and took it down to the river.

After dinner, Erin, Karen and I jumped our overnight train to Budapest. The conductor was so sweet to us and promised he would wake us up a half hour before our stop. AFter that he asked if, when he cameto wake us up, we wanted tea or coffee. Any man who brings me coffee the moment I wake upis an angel in my book. So, iffy the train. I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby even if I am on the top of a triple bunk!

The Start to another Adventure!

Well, it seems this blog gets the most use when I am traveling. I am writing from a hostel in Prague at the moment. We arrived around 10:30 this morning and were at City Center ready to go by noon. we wandered around Old Town, across Charles Bridge and even made the hike up to the castle--wandering around the grounds and visiting the Cathedral and the Old Palace.

I am traveling with two AMAZING women and we are already having a blast! I appreciate being with people who appreciate seeing the world and truly experiencing other cultures. After wandering the castle grounds we stumbled upon a little vineyard on the side of the Castle Rock (oh darn!!! Haha). We each got a glass of the house wine and shared a cheese plate. And there we sat, the castle behind us and the rest of Prague laid out below us. At that point Karen (one of my travel buddies) just sighed and said, "can you believe we are drinking wine in Prague?!?!...we are so blessed!". I couldn't agree more! Cheers to another amazing adventure! I am so blessed!

"What Does This Mean?"--A Sermon for Pentecost (a.k.a. The Coventry story)

Acts 2:1-21

What Does This Mean?

The Iona Abbey Church is many things—beautiful, thought-provoking, live with sound, spiritual.  But there are two things it is not:  it is not heated and it is not airtight.  The month of May in Scotland, while beautiful, is still pretty cold, especially in outer islands like Iona.  So, the second night of worship, Sunday evening, I had learned my lesson and I bundled up in my sweatshirt and fleece coat in order to go to the 9pm worship service.  It was beautiful as always—this huge stone cathedral filled with candlelight and people from all walks of life.  When we arrived they opened with the welcome and the traditional Opening Sentences which we used this morning in our Call to Worship.  Then we were informed that the traditional Sunday evening service was a service of silence.  We were to be given 15 minutes in the candlelit sanctuary to just meditate, pray, listen, and connect with the God.  The silence would then be broken by a benediction and we were invited to leave or stay as we wished.  As the reader finished her instructions she closed with the invitation, “Let us offer our prayers to the Lord…”  With that we all became silent.  But no sooner had those words been uttered than the wind picked up off the water and began to blow powerfully against the church.  As the wind whipped around the tall steeple on this sparse isle, it hissed and whistled and howled.  You could hear it pounding against the walls as if it were trying to get in or blow this stone-walled building down.  And as the wind persisted, the flames from the hundreds of candles in the sanctuary began to dance as the cracks and crevices of the stonework of this old Abbey church let in the breeze.  And then, you could feel it. 

            No, not the chill.  (Although I remember shivering through much of my silent 15 minutes).  You felt the Spirit.  The prayers rose up from each person in that church and the winds of the Spirit gathered them together, whipping across and around the building while the flames danced above us.  The Spirit moved and we prayed and though this was supposed to be a service of silence, the powerful winds made the space anything but silent.  I smiled to myself as I took it all in and thought, “It must have been something like this on that first Pentecost day…”

            Pentecost is an amazing day with an amazing story to go along with it—wind and flame, disciples speaking in many different languages, public proclamations, speeches, and later on baptisms and conversion of those who hear Peter’s sermon.  It is the day we celebrate the birth of the church, the day humanity received the gift of the Holy Spirit as promised by Jesus at his ascension.  It is the day the disciples of Jesus became not a club of followers, but a Christian movement, the Church.

            And, often, when we read this story, our imagination is captured by the wind and flame, by the immediate gift of speech and proclamation the disciples experience.  And why not?  The disciples experienced something very profound. 

            But, for some reason, as I read this story, I find myself drawn to the bystanders and taken in by their questions.  After all, they witnessed something very unusual.  To start, all they see is a group of misfit Galileans who have been traveling all over the place with this rather suspicious man Jesus.  But then, out of nowhere, a wind picks up and flames dance upon this odd group’s heads and each person in the marketplace can hear the story of Jesus in their own language, clear as day.  It is very odd.  Had I been in the group of bystanders, I may have walked away or joined in the part of the crowd that accused them of being drunk.

            But, there was another part of the crowd who asks a very wise question:  What does this all mean?

            I think this is a question we must ask today, on this celebration of Pentecost as the church in 2011. What does it mean to receive or have the Holy Spirit moving in and among us?  What does that look like? What does it mean to be a people of God who are guided and prodded and inspired by the Holy Spirit?  What does this mean?

            So, while the story of wind and flame no doubt has a tendency to capture our imagination, it is perhaps even more important to lean in closely as Peter begins to answer the bystanders’ perceptive question about the meaning behind all these events.

            Peter explains that they are not drunk (after all, it is only 9 morning).  But he uses the words from Joel: “In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams. ¹⁸Even upon my slaves, both men and women, in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.”

            We talk about dreamers and visionaries throughout our history.  On the 4^th of July we honor our American founders who had the dream of a free country and the foresight to create a foundation for our nation.  We speak of the dreams of people like Martin Luther King Jr. or Mahatma Gandhi who worked to lead people nonviolently to stand up for their freedoms and rights under the tyranny of blatant and subtle oppression.  We honor the dreams of pastors and church leaders like George MacLeod who had the vision to hire out of-work shipbuilders and ministers-in-training to rebuild a dilapidated abbey on the remote island of Iona in Scotland and create a space for people from all over the world and all Christian denominations to come together around issues of faith, worship, peace, and justice.

            But, it is not just these select few.  We are people who have the gift of the Spirit moving around and within us.  And what does that mean?  It means that we are to be people who see God’s future and proclaim it—people who have visions and dream dreams.  We are people who have been equipped by the very presence of the Spirit to look at the world—at the war, and hurt, and devastation—and be able to preach a different message—one of hope and peace.  We are able to speak of God’s presence in the midst of despair, of God’s peaceful kingdom in the midst of war and hatred and violence.  We are to offer a hand of service and a heart of care to those who are on the fringes or poor or oppressed, trusting in a God who loves them more deeply than we can imagine.  We are to open our mouths to profess words of justice and peace in the face of social and political situations that look at the bottom line and not towards the care of people.  We are people filled with the Spirit and that means we are people who have been gifted with vision, with Holy Imagination, to see a world that moves with the heartbeat of God, even when every bit of evidence seems to proclaim the opposite.

            I embarked on my month-long trip, thinking I would just spend time in Scotland—taking in the variety of land, terrains, culture, sights, and peoples during my travels.  However, during my time with the Iona community a woman from Portsmouth, England, of all places, convinced me to make a “side trip” to Coventry, England to see the Coventry cathedral.  Now for any of you who either know the UK very well or later plan to check a map—this wasn’t a little side trip.  It was a 7 hour detour each way.  However, she was so persuasive I finally decided to do it.  And I will be forever grateful for her persuasion.

            You see, on the night of November 14^th, 1940, 515 German bombers blitzed the city of Coventry, destroying their water lines, factories, businesses, leveling over 4,000 homes, and damaging hospitals police stations, and even the beautiful Coventry Cathedral.  The raid reached its height around midnight and by 6:15 the next morning, all that was left was the burning embers of a once proud industrial and residential town.  There was barely an undamaged building left in the city. The next morning, dazed by their ordeal, the citizens of Coventry who had been spared picked their way through their ruined city.  And when they got to Coventry Cathedral, a beacon of hope and symbol of faith, their hearts sank.  Before them was the shell of what was once a beautiful, grand, gothic cathedral.  Except for the stone exterior, everything was destroyed and much of it was still burning.  And, without any functioning water lines they had to let it burn.

            It would not have been surprising if, following the raid, another kind of flame were to have been fanned into being—the fire of bitterness, hatred, and revenge.  But, instead, the Provost of the cathedral, Dick Howard, filled with the Holy Spirit, offered visionary and prophetic words that inspired a Spirit of hope instead of hatred.  “We will not seek revenge,” he announced to his congregation, “but we will seek reconciliation.”  The cathedral’s stonemason, looking at his ruined cathedral, found two of the charred medieval roof timbers that had fallen across each other in amid the rubble.  He tied them together and set up the charred cross on the still-standing stone altar.  Then, a minister found three medieval nails in the debris and bound them together in the shape of the cross.  And then, on the wall behind the table, Provost Howard then inscribed the words, “Father Forgive.”  He made it very clear to his congregation that he would not write “Father Forgive them,” the words of Jesus from the cross, but only “Father Forgive” since they were all involved in the sin of destruction and war.  And that charred cross and inscribed words still remain today.

            It was clear, by the hope-filled and courageous acts of these faithful people that though the city of Coventry was physically flattened its spirit and soul was not dead. It was decided, immediately, that a new cathedral would be built—not as an act of defiance but as a testimony to hope and as a sign of faith and trust.   And, indeed, another cathedral was built, though not opened until 1962, 22 years after the raid.  However, this cathedral stands next to the shell of the old one, attached by a brick walkway, a testament of both the destruction of sin and the power of hope.  And this new cathedral, much more modern in design and concept, stands as both a physical and architectural testament to hope.  Every inscribed stone, every floor tile, every window, every little detail of this new cathedral holds symbolism.  But, this cathedral is more than just a symbol.  It has become a powerful center of peace-making and reconciliation work.  The Cross of Nails has become the recognizable symbol of Coventry’s international work for peace and justice.  Coventry has especially reached out to other faith communities in Germany who were bombed during the war, forming a relationship of support and friendship.

            And at noon, every day, in Coventry cathedral and in cathedrals around the world, including Coventry’s sister cathedrals in Germany, they recite the simple Litany of Reconciliation.  But, as I had the opportunity to experience, on Fridays, the Litany of Reconciliation is said in the middle of the old, bombed cathedral.  And then the whole congregation—some days 5 and some days 500—walk together from the old cathedral into the new one to share the Lord’s Supper, a meal of unity and forgiveness.

            I was floored not only by these cathedrals, but by their stories.  I was moved beyond words by the power and vision of Provost Howard and his whole congregation to be people who even in the midst of war and destruction, sought peace and reconciliation. 

            And in that place, you can feel it.  As you stand in the midst of the old cathedral shell, you can just imagine the congregation standing there, their city burning around them in fires of destruction and then, slowly, the wind begins to blow and the flame of the Spirit begins to flicker.  And the fires of God’s love begin to overwhelm the fires of devastation.  And those men and women standing there begin to catch it, the vision of God’s kingdom even as they are experiencing hell on earth.  And they tie together a charred cross and make a cross of nails, seeking to build out of what is broken.  And they have a dream and cast a vision not just for their own cathedral, but for the world.  A vision not of resentment and revenge, but a vision of reconciliation and renewal.  A vision that continues to inspire and influence the world.

            After hours of taking it all in, as I walked away from these two cathedrals, I noticed a little, out-of-place granite stone built into the wall of the old cathedral.  It contained these words from Haggai:  “The glory of this latter house shall be greater then of the former, saith the Lord of hosts: and in this place will I give peace.”

            The Holy Spirit is in and among us.  What does this mean?

            My prayer on this Pentecost day for all of us is that we will feel the winds of the Spirit moving, the fires of God’s passion and love for this world burning, and that we, too, will claim the call the Spirit has placed on us.  May God grant us the courage to be people who have visions and dream dreams, for we are a Pentecost people.  Amen. 

Closing Thoughts

Scotland has truly been a journey for me--physically, emotionally, spiritually. I couldn't have asked for a more remarkable trip. Looking back it seems simultaneously to be an eon and an instant. In some ways it seems like I have been over there a long time (which I have, to a certain extent) but on the other hand it seems like I was taking off from the Newport News airport yesterday.

But, what a journey! I have seen, explored, and come to love and know an amazing part of the world; I have met amazing people from all over; I have had the opportunity to experience a culture different than mine; I have explored multiple types of worship from Iona to Coventry to Glasgow. And the list could go on.

It is of course impossible to document every thought, feeling, or stunning landscape. But, I have tried to do my best.

So, what do I bring home? More than I can say. I bring back new liturgy to try for worship, new understandings of what it means to be a Christian community, new understandings of our brothers and sisters across the ocean and around the world, and so on.

My own journey has had unexpected twists and turns, joys and frustrations, wonderful surprises and well-executed plans. But, it has all been an adventure.

As was said at Holy City by a reader who was doing a monologue as Peter, "...I do know that when you go on a journey, when you do move, even if you're not sure why or what will happen that things do happen, things change, you change. And you discover, that in unpredictable ways, somehow the world changes....I didn't have a clue what would happen when I started traveling." Amen.

It is no doubt hard to leave, and even as I write this it is hard to say goodbye. But, I know that as I return to the States, to Virginia, to my church and my home and my "real life," that God goes with me and will continue to speak in new ways even if I am not in a new location. As they said to us in Holy City, the journey has taken us up to this point, but God continues with us as we continue on. God continues to guide and lead and comfort and support. The key will be to continue to listen. It is, in many ways, easier to hear God's voice and sense God's presence on a mountain in the Highlands, by a Loch, or on the sacred isle of Iona. But, the truth is God is still speaking--across the whole world. The key is to make space to listen.

And now, as only seems appropriate, I will close with an Iona benediction:

Leader: From where we are to where you need us.
ALL: JESUS, NOW LEAD ON.

Leader: From the security of what we know
to the adventure of what you will reveal,
ALL: JESUS, NOW LEAD ON.

Leader: To refashion the fabric of this world
until it takes on the shape of your kingdom,
ALL: JESUS, NOW LEAD ON.

My Last Day--Balloch

A remarkable last day! Couldn't have asked for a more perfect combination of doing and being or more lovely weather.

Went out to Balloch today which sits on the southern shores of Loch Lomond. It was a little drizzly on the train ride and I was afraid it would be that way all day. When I got to Balloch, I went over to the boat docks to see about the possibility of a boat tour of Loch Lomond later in the day. I didn't even get the whole question out of my mouth when the captain of the boat grabbed my arm and said, "C'mon! We're leaving for a tour now."

So, I jumped right on the boat and off we went. At first, I was disappointed because it was cloudy and drizzly. The clouds were covering the Highland mountains. But, within 15 minutes of the tour starting, the clouds literally began to lift and the sun came out. By the end of the boat ride, we were riding in warm sun looking across the blue water to the mountains of the Highlands. It was glorious!

Then I decided to hike through the Castle City Park. The whole gardens and property around the Balloch Castle have been converted into biking and hiking trails. I probably spent over 2 hours wandering in the sunshine through the gardens and up and down the paths, getting breathtaking views of Loch Lomond.

After the hike in Castle City Park, went walking the other direction and found a cute little area right on the water with restaurants, shops, and an aquarium. I enjoyed some lunch with views over the water and even finished my book. Then I just walked around the shops and the docks and took it all in. There were all kinds of people out enjoying the beautiful, sunny day--young families, older couples, teenage couples. It was a wonderful slice of humanity and such a peaceful place to be and take it all in.

There is no doubt I will miss Scotland. It has been a place of respite and renewal for me as well as a place of discernment and challenge.

Upon returning to Glasgow, I got some food from the local grocery for dinner and decided to go see Sound of Music. The show was AMAZING and it was such a great, fun close to my trip. The cutest thing was all the cute little families with these precious little girls all dressed up to go to the theater. The best was the fathers and grandfathers who took their daughters--so precious!

Glasgow and Holy City

So, I arrived in Glasgow after the worst train ride ever from Coventry. Unfortunately a whole set of trains were broken down and so our train was horribly overcrowded with people filling the aisles and spaces in between cars. But, after 7 hours on the train, I got there.

Woke up Sunday morning and walked in the rain and wind to the Glasgow Cathedral where a Church of Scotland congregation now meets. I finally got to the cathedral after a half hour walk and tried to get in but the door was locked. Then a man in a full-blown tux with tails came to the door and asked if I was there for the service. He let me in and was very kind and then instructed me to go to the front part of the church and they would tell me where to sit. It was so formal. All the ushers in tuxes and silver cravats (sp??). Everyone seemed so dressed up and I was just in black pants, a shirt, and a sweater. Oh well. They were going to have to get over it. But, then some folks came in in jeans and such and I felt better.

I was given an order of worship and a worship book which had all the psalms and hymn words but no music. It seemed a very formal service as we had to stand for the clergy entrance, etc... But the pastors were very nice and very welcoming. I definitely think some of the formality on the front end was not reflected in the warmness of the pastors. The Associate Pastor, a young woman, preached and did a fairly nice job. But, you can never tell with those female Associate Pastors, they tend to be trouble (hehehehe).

After worship, I went over the the St. Mungo Religious Museum and Exhibit. It was interesting and pretty well done, trying to describe and include the 6 major religions around the world.

After eating the cafe, I went back to the cathedral and walked around and took pictures. It is a beautiful cathedral, but they have started to all feel the same in some ways.

Then I went to St. George's Square and took a bus ride tour around the city.

The most remarkable thing of the day was, without a doubt, Holy City. Holy City is an outgrowth of the Iona community in Glasgow. Once a month this event happens--an evening of gathering, workshops, and worship. It was the perfect bookend to my trip. It couldn't have been a more appropriate service--all about journeys. Holy City is about a 3 hour event. You arrive in the Fellowship Hall of this church where they have set up chairs all over in little semi-circles with tables and candles in the middle of each little cluster. We begin by being welcomed by Graham Maule, a very prolific writer and composer for the Iona Community. Then we are taught a series of songs which will be used later in the service in true Iona style.

I immediately felt at home again. Ever since Coventry, I have wanted to go back to Iona (well, let's be honest, ever since I left Iona I have wanted to go back.) But, this felt kind of like it. I was surrounded by people who were passionate about worship and music and social justice and who loved the island and the community as well. Then we broke up into workshops--we were given the option of 4 different workshops. I picked one about worship and the future of the church. It was very interesting. After the workshops of course we had to have tea--we are still in the UK after all!

Then, was the best part. The worship service. As I mentioned, it was all about journeys. We sang and read Scripture, and heard three monologues of people who had gone on journeys--Peter, Barnabas, and Paul. We then prayed for major events in the world of the last year--joys and concerns. We prayed month by month for the journey of this world. Then we were invited to offer our own journeys to God. Down the middle of the semi-circular chair setup was a timeline marking the last year. We were invited to come forward and make a mark on the timeline, marking a significant event in the past year and then were invited to take a luggage tag with us to remind us that God travels with us. I would say only about half of the people in attendance participated in this bit. But that was ok. This is a space where you are invited to worship as will best suit you. But, this was truly a sending out service for me. I rarely get emotional in worship, but I even got a little choked up. The service was amazing and people from all walks of life sat and sang and prayed together, seeking to build a more faithful world What more could you ask for? I felt like God was speaking to me through the words and music, about my own journey this past month. It has been a remarkable one and I was struggling watching the end nearing.

But, this community, this music, this liturgy--it was the bookend to my month. It prepared me to go back and fully serve to the best of my ability. Honestly, I would have got on a plane that night. I had been reminded of the lessons and wonders of this month's journey and sent forth with the promise that God was going with me. What a gift!