Seasonal Disorder

When is it too early?

I was at the local mall earlier this evening and as of today, 5 November, they are already in full decoration mode for the holiday season....seriously.

They pushed aside Thanksgiving like a second helping of pumpkin pie by a stuffed diner and have moved right into the Christmas season. A giant wreath is on the main door, decorated trees of assorted themes and wisemen of varying diversity fill a storefront and the ultimate Christmas season shout-out: Santa! Yes, they are ready --- with the fake-snow dusted path, the candy cane markers, the reindeer and the big, red, velvet chair all waiting for Santas with fake beards and insincere good will to arrive and stay for weeks on end.

Clearly, I'm not yet in the holiday mood.

Perhaps it's the amazing run of warm weather (high seventies) that we are experiencing in Southwestern Pennsylvania, yet this took me aback and made me call for a rushing-the-season penalty.

I'm going to go and place a candle in my jack-o-lantern and let her shine!

sj;

CEMETERIES, SAINTS and CIRCLES

Growing up near a cemetery gives a kid an interesting perspective bred by proximity to what on the surface prompts fear and uncertainty in most people. The cemetery bordered the neighborhood and as kids we used that vast space as a place to play.

There was a large, flat grassy space that with a row of tombstones on one side and the old road on the other made a perfect set-up for football as the boundaries provided natural sidelines and end lines. In the summer we road our bikes, go-karts and skate boards down the big cemetery hill and walked through the cemetery on the way to the community park.

Being kids and needing something to do on a summer’s evening, we issued dares and challenges to one another about who could walk around the cemetery in the dark of night. Our bravery was boosted by going in small groups and sticking together. However, that game plan came apart, quite literally, on one particular evening when one adult snuck into the cemetery and hid in wait for us to approach. We screamed and scattered leaving discarded flip-flops in our wake.

Through all this, we maintained respect for the cemetery. We were silent and respectful whenever we saw the long line of cars in a funeral procession. For several of us, it is where our families are laid to rest. Following the example established by our parents and grandparents, we continue the tradition of planting flowers on the graves of our family members in conjunction with every Memorial Day holiday.

I am not one who goes to the cemetery to visit the graves of my loved ones. I’ve used this line several times at funerals I have officiated and I believe its wisdom holds true, “Though the ones who have passed on are no longer in all the familiar places where we are used to seeing them; they are now wherever we are and wherever we go, they remain a part of us.” In many ways, that truth is a wonderful, working definition of a saint.

At the graveside service for my mother, as the last Amen was lifted and persons went back to their vehicles, each person in our family went to and touched my mother’s casket…leaving our fingerprints; a symbolic gesture signifying how my mother and her love and influence touched each of our lives individually and collectively and would remain with us. Saints do that and we are blessed.

Today, 2 November, is “Look for Circles Day.” I understand saints as being big circle makers and circle finders. These are folks who always make room for one more at the supper table; who notice and talk to and invite the “outsider” into the circle; who look for ways to join hands with others and “draw the circle wide and wider still.”
sj;
©kitetails_sjs

In the upcoming days, many congregations will hold a "Blessing of the Animals" service. These gatherings are most often held in October in celebration of St. Francis, the saint who is often depicted with birds on his shoulders, chipmunks at his feet and deer at his waist. Clearly, he was a big nature and animals guy.

Celebrating a "Blessing of the Animals" service is always a risky proposition. I was always worried that some little cherub would bring his boa constrictor in for a blessing and not being exactly a fan of snakes (read: I've been known to leave a running lawn mower when one slithered across my path), I was not sure how to handle that situation in a pastoral and kind manner and didn't think proclaiming to the snake "get thee behind me satan!" would do much for the esteem and faith development of the youngster who claimed the snake as his pet.

However, there is a huge "cute factor" to the service as kids come forward with their bunnies and kittens and puppies and parakeets and hamesters and turtles and....yes, even their.....insects.

Once upon a time at a "Blessing of the Animals" service, children were coming with their dogs...lots of dogs and a few cats...sigh....and a herd of hamsters and a bunny added for good measure. As the blessing for the animal and the owner was given all attention was on the child and their pet. It was into this scene that a young boy about 10 years old came forward with a match box. I was hesitant and asked, "And what's your pet's name?" To which the lad replied, "His name is Anty. He's my pet ant." Sure enough inside the match box was a little black ant. I offered blessing upon Anty and Anty's owner.

Truth --- I don't really believe that the boy had this ant as his long-standing pet. I don't believe he taught the ant tricks or fed the ant crumbs of cookies and breads. I don't believe the pile of matches in the church kitchen just happened to be there conincidentally.

I do believe there was a deeper lesson to the blessing of Anty that is at the heart of most blessings. The little boy without any pet wanted to be part of what was happening in the service. He wanted some of that attention. He wanted a blessing. In return, he blessed those with "eyes to see" as the scripture says. He was creative and resourceful. He was familiar with the occasional ant that crawled on the floor in the Sunday School wing (vanilla wafers leave tasty crumbs). He knew were the matches were in the kitchen as he'd seen them used to light the burners on the stove.

He taught a lesson in how far one will go to receive a blessing and be included. We all should be so passionate. The community of faith would benefit from the resourcefulness he displayed. We would do well to remember the sacredness in all beings and all creation --- the big and fluffy along with the small and often overlooked. We would do doubly well to make it a point to offer blessing upon all who come seeking.

sj;