Just breathe

Patience. Why, it’s been around forever.

“Just be patient” was a refrain of my mother be it at the dinner table, waiting in traffic, waiting for a uniform to be patched….

Hitting instructors tell players to be patient at the plate, to take some pitches, wait for the one you like.

With the always-manages-to-amaze-me technology, transportation seeking to go faster and be more efficient (the proposed BRT line in Pittsburgh and the Port Authority App), and download speeds which computer companies promote as faster with every new device, we are a society that is being ordered and organized for speed.

As the highway patrol once touted….”speed kills”

Our society has the attention span of the Golden Retriever in the movie, UP.... “Squirrel!”

Modern society seems to be happily and collectively suffering from attention deficit disorder. We don’t remember last week’s “big story” and therefore over-hype everything as the “story of the decade!”

As a kid, my mother got me a subscription to Highlights magazine and she kept me as a subscriber for several years. Of course, there is the thrill a kid has (psssst….we all do) of receiving something in the mail with your name on it and a magazine was triple bonus points! Yet, the coolest thing and what I loved the most about Highlights magazine was the search puzzle at the back. Every issue would have a different drawing and hidden in the picture were animals and objects that one had to search for, find and circle. The exercise taught observation, patience, paying attention --- all wise skills for any one.

More recently, the I SPY and WHERE’S WALDO books do basically the same thing yet in much more colorful and glossy formats. However,the “why” behind them is the same: slow down, look twice, patiently search until you find what you are looking for. My brother Mark made sure to purchase them regularly for the niece and nephews continuing the family tradition of teaching observation and patience. Please note, I’m in no way suggesting we’ve mastered these skills, just that we realize their importance and seek to foster them in ourselves and in others.

As referenced several times in this blog, my mother was a total gift and I continue to realize how much by the many valuable lessons in how to be and become that she taught us by exemplifying them in how she lived. One of the most special and sacred spaces for me was the front porch at my mother’s house during the season of Summer. With flowers surrounding, hanging and in baskets and ample, comfortable furniture for many persons to sit and be together, I spent many wonderful times having porch moments; moments to just sit, watch the traffic go by, read, listen, talk, play word games. These were simple resting and renewing moments.
After dinner and before the final clearing of the table, we would stay at the table to talk and listen (the two really must go together to be effective) and sometime engaged in a game of table basketball (more on that in a later post).

I find myself continuing these gifts because I need to as they refresh my spirit and my being. when I am "in good space" these happen easily and on purpose.

They are ways that I get the daily recommended allowance for my spirit.

It's the start of the first official holiday of the summer season. Take time and just breathe and just be.

sj;

"Nothing like it...."

Opening Day!
Baseball is back in town!

Yes, our Buccos have already played six games and wear a 2-4 record, yet, there remains something electric and fresh about your home team's opening game!

This afternoon, PNC Park will have the red-white-and blue bunting; "Opening Series 2015" will be painted on the field; they'll announce the line-ups and players will trot out and stand along the baselines; the hot dog buns will still be fresh (try one in late August...); and all will be well.

Baseball is a glorious game. Perhaps it's because of the symmetric structure of the game, the fact that there is no clock and games can go on for hours upon hours. The pace of the game is easy lending itself to conversation on the history and the stories that mark an individual fan's journey with the game. Perhaps it's because for many of us this was the game we played and watched; these were the cards we collected and traded and saved; these heroes we mimicked --- how many of us did the Willie Stargell bat windmill in the games we played in backyards and Little Leagues? The game stretches over the wonderful times of spring and summer and into autumn. Timeless is the ache from a painful loss (Franciso Cabrera, 1992, anyone?) and the exhiliration of a huge victory (October 1, 2013, Wild Card Playoff win, anyone?).

Another season of baseball along the Allegheny River begins! Glorious!
Is there anything better than day baseball played on a grass field with the sun shining?

I'll be there today and I'll think back to Opening Days when I got out of school to attend the game.
I'll refect on my first game when I was a kid and was amazed at how big everything was and how I was a bit anxious to stand up because of how high it seemed we were sitting.
I'll remember collecting "Town Talk" bread wrappers to receive a free ticket to the game.
I'll mist a little bit when the jumbo-tron shows the greats of Pirates past --- Wagner, Law, Face, Kiner, Maz, Clemente, Stargell.
I'll stand, as I do every game, when my Buccos take the field and I'll keep score --- my one and only venture into anything resembling mathematics.

It will be glorious, win or lose because it's baseball in the home park with the home team with a new season jolted with a hope-filled buzz and a bloom of possibility ready to bloom.

Play ball!

sj;

Ramblings on Resurrection Sunday

Whenever one of us would be bummed over a lost game, a lost opportunity, a lost grade, a lost deer, a lost love (note: the last two mentions in the list would perhaps lead one to believe I misspelled dear...nope....I come from a family of hunters....I meant to write deer)....our mother would say, "Life goes on." The confidence with which she said those words was a comfort as well as evidence of the conviction of her faith.

Today is the exclamation point for we who access the Divine through the life and ministry of the Christ. Easter is the answer, the why, the reason, the foundation, the hope, the energy that drives our faith.

Like most holy days, the point is they are recognized in a 24-hour cycle yet the reason behind the celebration is to continue each day and cycle and season. To borrow a phrase from the poet and envrionmentalist, Wendell Berry, "practice resurrection."

Here in Pittsburgh following another "winter of our discontent" it does look like Spring has finally sprung. A day with bright sunshine, warm temperatures and buds about to burst --- practice resurrection.

The start of a new baseball season, that sport without a clock, a Pirates team seriously being mentioned as a World Series contender(!)....practice resurrection.

Birdsong in the morning...practice resurrection.

The yellow tips of the daffodils in the yard just needing a little more sun and then boom!....practice resurrection.

Kids on swings....practice resurrection.

Resurrection is liberation from all that binds us, blocks us, breaks us.

Faith is always in need of being renewed. I often say that I head the list of persons least likely to be ordained...yet, here I am...23 years this June. The president of my seminary said to the freshman gathered in his Systemic Theology class that one would've had a good seminary experience if one's views and thoughts were different, had changed when one graduated, evidence that one had wrestled and grown. I can say with that criterion, I had a good seminary experience.

What's true of individuals is true of the congregation, denomination and institution. We have always struggeled with who to let in...what to do with the Gentiles? The women? The blacks? The refugees? The undocumented? The gays and lesbians and bisexuals and transgendered? I think it's an easy answer: Love 'em. Welcome 'em. Include 'em.

In that spirit and in response to what went on this week in Indiana (not the Final Four...my bracket is officially blown), I quote the Easter Sunday sermon delivered by the priest finding his voice in the movie CHOCOLAT:

"Why do we choose to measure our goodness based on what we give up and who we exclude? Why? When we should measure our goodness by what we do and who we include. Christ is kindess, tolerance, life, love, joy!"

....practice resurrection;