Break out the broom!

I'm not sure where I came upon the tradition, yet, for the last 20 years I've made certain on New Years Eve when the clock turns to midnight to grab a broom and sweep out the old year.  The action of working the metaphor by actually opening the front door and sweeping out the old ... off the porch, onto the sidewalk and past the lawn....works.

Prior to horn blowing, shotguns (I know where I'm from), toasts and smooches, take a moment to go through the year 2021 month by month asking what were the moments that provided you the most joy? What were the moments that were painful and why? What lessons were learned and who taught them to you and how are you living those lessons?

You may be rolling your eyes at this exercise wondering who has the time for such an introspection.  Find the time. Make the time. 

I have done this exercise and will do so again today. It is a good way to reflect on the year just journeyed; to assess what to learn from and then put away and even more importantly what to glean and grow moving ever onward.

“For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning." 

~ T.S. Eliot

Did you notice?

 

I'm always on the look out for the one who is on the margins of things; the kid who is only at the youth group meeting because her Mom "made" her go, the one who shows up to a gathering alone and keeps looking at his phone because he feels so uncomfortable in the setting where seemingly everybody knows everyone else. I think I am in tune with those folks because for much of my youth, I was those kids...no cell phone, of course, so I would either look at the countour of the table or just sit hoping not to be noticed, seen in my aloneness and awkwardness.

Father Greg Boyle has my new favorite quote: "To notice the notice of God." 

God notices each of us and is so in love with each of us, God, cannot contain the joy and love bursting from God's Divine Self!  I really like that in a God!  Imagine the impact in our lives, our congregations, our communities if this was the message we believed and taught and loved until it was caught!

Christmas is God's big NOTICE EVENT.  Doubt God is love? Feel God is out to get you and is just about to hit the "smite" button when you scroll across God's computer? 

Christmas is God's shout out of LOVE to you, to all, to creation! Did you notice? 

While making my baked pineapple dish (and they say there are no more Christmas miracles) I was listening to NPR and the chaplain being interviewed said, "I believe in a God who smiles at me a lot." ......me too.

Have you noticed this God?  

Merry Christmas!

Let there be light

 

A clergy colleague shared the story of her seven-year old son's first experience of a night baseball game at PNC Park surrounded with the many large stands of lights he commented, "the darkness doen't go down that far."

I loved that story the first time I heard it years ago and in these dark, scary times through which we journey (and we will make it through...) and on this longest night of the year (welcome Winter!) I appreciate it even more and return to it often. 

Perhaps it's the fact of being born and raised in southwestern Pennsylvania where we average only 60 sunshine days a year. I was shocked when I first learned this fact, yet, admit I like the cloudy November days, they are familiar, they are home to me. Please understand, I also really like sunshine!  Bright days of summer are glorious and I am energized by sunny days in winter, the light glistening off the snow.

Light has a constancy to it; a reliability that in the morning the sun will shine. In these uneven and uncertain times, I need that constancy. With today's official start of the winter season, minute by minute light makes a comeback!

Salt and light are two metaphors Jesus used to define his disciples; add a little flavor to your witness, make 'em thirsty for more!  

Be the light;

Bring the light;

Bear the light --- this is the one needed most in this current time when it is easier to just bemoan and quit. Yes, we are scared, angry, troubled, divided.....the perfect time to be who we claim to be --- light, to be the very best version of our disciple selves. Let there be light --- bring it!

Las Posadas

 

Today, December 16, marks the start of "Las Posadas."  A Mexican tradition, posadas means shelter and in an imitation of Mary and Joseph and their journey to Bethlehem and seeking shelter, people go from home to home singing Christmas carols and seeking a safe space; only to be refused and to eventually return to the church where they are welcomed in (don't you wish that really was so????) to a party with hot chocolate, cookies, candy and a pinata filled with even more goodies!

Searching for something new that would emphasize and offer a teachable moment for our call to be hospitable and welcoming to all, I held Las Posadas several times at congregations where I served as pastor.  The first couple events, we had someone in the congregation who knew someone who provided a donkey to make it very realistic!  Those were major successes as a group of people walking a donkey around a small Pennsylvania urban or suburban town was sure to draw attention. Once we got back to the church, the kids took turns riding the donkey, petting the donkey, taking photos of the donkey and feeding the donkey on occasion carrots, yet, mostly cookies and pretzels.

Of course, part of the event was choosing what kids would play the role of Mary and Joseph. We followed the ol' Biblical tradition of drawing names.  Worked.  I confess to one whiny child who "never got picked to do anything" (I wonder why....) I did drop the, "hey, it's Biblical...." quieted him right up.

One year in Erie, we planned the event and the woman who had the donkey bailed on us the day of. The chair of our children's ministry team suggested that I be the donkey (feel free to insert, well, you are an ass comment here) and made a very impressive donkey head piece with ears and a belt with a tail and then face-painted my nose black and the rest is Las Posadas history. I carried Mary on my shoulders and held Joseph's hand as we walked the neighborhood. 

In the Las Posadas event, we'd approach a home and the resident would come to the door and we'd start to sing carols, one of the adults in the group would whisper to the homeowner to answer, when asked if they have any room for us, "No. Sorry. I have no room." Of course one woman just didn't get it. When Mary and Joseph asked, "Do you have any room for us?"  She answered,  "Sure, I do!  You all can come in!  There's a pot of coffee on, I can make some hot chocolate, I'll get out some cookies....don't worry about the donkey, you can tie him up to the railing."  As she is going on and on, I the pastor, am waving my arms as if trying to land a plane, shaking my head vigorously and doing my best Nancy Reagan impersonation as I mouthed to her the words, "Just say no."  ....it's hard to know how to be helpful sometimes....

We the Innkeeper????

 

I wager a case of...M&M's.... that 95% of churches have on their sign board ALL ARE WELCOME.  Great sentiment, something a person driving by likes to see in front of a church building.  Lovely. Makes me all warm and tingly.  

Unfortunately, the majority of churches don't live the signage, far from it.  My experience has been the welcoming spirit of many congregations are as wooden and frozen as the sign upon which the words are printed.  Admitedlly, we don't welcome well in our communities and are seemingly unaware of the global community which we can no longer ignore nor pretend does not impact us.

Foundational to the entire Hebrew and Christian scriptural narrative is the call to be hospitable to all, we notice, we invite, we are genuine with the invitation and then, most importantly, we welcome in, receive, provide care and involve in the life of the community.

Our world confronts many crises; to name a few: ever increasing poverty (in the USA with our incredible wealth, tonight 1 in 6 children live in signifcant poverty and hunger), a shocking lack of adequate, acessible and affordable housing, and a raging refugee movement on multiple borders around the world. 

The Hebrews were refugees, the Law commands "welcome the stranger, for you were once strangers in the land," the entire Advent narrative culminates in a young couple seeking shelter and being denied, closed off, shut out. 

Pope Francis called the response of the "faithful" to the refugee crisis "a culture of indifference." I call it we just don't care.  In both instances....shame...shame...shame on us, the faithful.

Recently, I find myself more and more convicted. You?

Specials

 

'Tis the season...so who or what is your must see Holiday special character? Are you a Rudolph and Hermey?  A why mess with a classic...it's the Grinch! Do you sing along with the Heat and Cold Misers?

As we know, I could've listed many, many more....as many as there are Holiday Specials filling our viewing hours on nearly every channel.

When this pandemic began...sigh.....I checked-in on my crew of self-advocates to let them know I was thinking of 'em and to make certain they were doing OK. In the Spring of 2020, Jan, a person with cross-disabilites shared, "So long as my collection of Christmas movies holds out, I suppose I'll make it through." 

Her answer as to why she watched Christmas specials in the spring is similar to why we watch them year after year:

• They are famiiliar, consistent, known 
• The endings are always happy 
• They call us to our "better angels"
• They connect us back to our innocence

Consider in the midst of a pandemic and how scary and unsettled and upset and worried ---- Jan's choice of watching Christmas specials was a great idea, a comfort.

Enjoy your favorite Chrismtas special.  May the lessons iimparted, the positive energy and hope received be what we embody and share all year round....off the screen and in our lives;

Body language

There is a lot of physicality to hope.  Say the phrase...."I hope......" and I naturally inhale, put my shoulders back, head up, jaw set, a slight grin, eyes wide and with forward intention.  The posture of hope is one of readiness and anticipation. 

On Sunday when the news broke of another variant and today when there was yet another school shooting, I hung my head, my sholders sagged, I looked down, I folded in upon myself....I think it's what they mean when they say one is deflated.

Hope is integral to this Advent season, it's the first candle we light, the word emlazoned on banners and church paraments. 

Hope fills us, we expand and look outward, we stand ready and set.  The major lesson of the season is that God, the Creator of all that is, comes to be with us...to be human, to become enfleshed, one of us.  Wow.  It's one of the way cool notions of having a body. You want positive body image?  God became human.  That works.

Throughout this season of Advent pay attention to your body, how you carry yourself. Are you more inflated or deflated?  Are you fearful and downcast or trusting and looking up?

Listen to your body language...you speak volumes.

Light it up

 

The last couple of days have brought a bit of a weather warm up....not balmy, yet, enough to be able to be comfortably outside to decorate for the holidays.  A drive through the neighborhood last evening revealed several houses now fully lit. One particular residence evidently purchased mulitple strands of red, green, blue and purple lights and then strung them around trees, on the porch, around every available railing, up on the roof and for that needed extra touch lined them on the ground (!).  True, it was a Griswold-ian effort -- yet, it did look good and left me thankful they do not live right next door...yowzers!

Advent is the church season when we most look upward and outward; may we also in all the silent nights look inward.  A favorite line found in the Benedictine Sisters daily liturgy is "and in Your light, we see light."  It speaks of our incarnate-ed-ness, the Divine spark dwells within each of us and in our being present and showing up we bring the light.

If you have a toddler on your gift list, I suggest a flash light. Kids are as fascinated by lights as they are also intrigued by darkness. A flashlight provides the great opportunity to bring light into the darkness and watch all the cool stuff that happens --- the shadows, the reflections, the patterns. A kid with a flashlight will shine it all the time and everywhere.  Kids anticipate nightfall so they can break out their flashlight; no need to flick the lightswitch the kid is armed with their trusty flashlight and enjoy being needed to bring the light. 

I believe we each are needed to bring the light. We too should enjoy it.  When you have a flashlight and good batteries you want to be outside in the nighttime; the darker the night, the deeper the woods, the better!  Get out there!  You got a working flashlight!

When times are the darkest is when we need the brightest of lights. Shine! Light it up!

Pondering

 There is so much ritual, roles and responsibiliites to Thanksgiving.  As a child, I remember the ritual of breaking the wishbone with my father and the responsibility I had to read the "Dear Abby" prayer which my mother put beside my place setting.

As my siblings and I got older we took on different responsibilitiies for the dinner. One brother agreed to bring dinner rolls and make vegetables, another brown-nosed and made a homemade pie; me?  Mom asked me to bring the dinner mints.  She knew her daughter. 

I stand incredulous at the time and preparation and work that goes into preparing Thanksgiving dinner for a family. For the majority of her life, my mother did so every Thanksgiving; she was awake at 5 am to get the turkey ready and in the oven and was a dinner dynamo making the stuffing (really wish someone would've paid attention as to how she made it....), the vegetables, putting together the fruit cup comprised of the fruits of summer which she would freeze for just such an occasion; mashing the potatoes, stirring the homemade gravy and the years she went a little wild and served flaming peaches. Yet with precision, annually. we would sit down at table at 2:30 pm. 

When Mum finally got to catch a break and rest she smiled at the raucousness of the board games being played; every trip into the kitchen for a drink of the Women's Temperence Union cocktail: cranberry juice and ginger ale, she would ask if the person was hungry and could she get them anything. !!!???!!! Seriously.....     

Yet, I wonder if when everyone had gone home or scooted off to bed what she pondered. Another successful Thanksgiving dinner has passed; we all ate too much; we are all safe; the board games got a bit heated; we are very loud; the stories shared were familiar and also new; how many years in this house, around this table have members of the Beale line gathered? We have much for which to be thankful. The line holds strong;

LESSONS

 Mark 12:38-44

12:38 As he taught, he said, "Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces,

12:39 and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets!

12:40 They devour widows' houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation."

12:41 He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums.

12:42 A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny.

12:43 Then he called his disciples and said to them, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury.

12:44 For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on."

I am guilty of comparing and competing.  

Maybe it is characteristic of the yougest child....I notice and compare and then if need be it's game on.  

Both comparing and competing are disruptive to maintenance of the harmony of a community. Either one notices the wrongs of another and arrogantly proclaims, "Well, at least I didn't do that!  I'm not that bad."  Or, we notice and compete --- "I can do that and do that soooooo much better...."

I think one's insecurity is foundational to both behaviors. My seminary experience was a journey to find myself, know myself and be consistent in being myself. To my mother's horror on my first dull day of seminary classes I wore a Freeport Volleyball sweathshirt with the words "KILL" (a term for a spike) emblazoned on the front. Admittedly this was not a wise fashion decision. Clearly, I did not put in a lot of thought to my wardrobe; I wanted to be comfortable and signify where I was from. My intimidation of starting seminary (You sure you called the right one???) lead me to fall back on the familiar...my hometown, blue jeans and a sweatshirt. 

Before the start of every class, the seminary president would ask a different student to open with prayer.  It was random, one could not prepare for it...just pray when asked. There were classmates who when called  upon to pray used a deeper and louder voice than normal and intoned multi-syllabic words that would warrant major point totals in Scrabble. It were the more grounded and self-assured students whose prayers were simple, heartfelt, real. 

In the early 1990's my first appointment to a church as an Associate Pastor provided
me the opportunity to journey with a congregation through a church building campaign. We hired a consultant to offer guidance and direction. He suggested finding major donors who would be willing to purchase a sound system or several pews or the construction costs for building a new class room. When those donors and their dollars came in "recognize them, honor them!" he directed.

I am one who is much more comfortable with the "Joe and Jane Bag-of-Donuts" types of people...the blue jean wearing, shower-after-work, have a beer and a hot dog and swear freely if the occassion warrants. Pat was a faithful member of the congregation who helped out with Rally Day and the children's ministry program. Her husband was disabled and they lived on a very limited income. One Sunday following worship Pat pulled me aside and handed me an envelope. "Open it now," she said. Pat beamed as I opened the envelope. Inside was a personal check for $25. "I love this church. You all have helped me through so much. I want the church to have this to help with the new buidling."

Knowing Pat's story, I knew for her this was a lot of money.  She gave from the foundation of her love for her church.  A couple of weeks later at a meeting of the building committee the consultant asked us to name donors who had stepped up and whose stories should be recognized.  The senior pastor named a couple of families who donated significant sums of money. When those donations were shared there was the "ooohs" and "ahhhs" from the committee. I sat quietly.  I shared Pat's story. The reaction was a few smiles and head nods. "So, let's recognize a different big giver family each of the next several Sundays," said the consultant, "and I'm confident other wealthy families will step up as well. Call it, good ol' capitalism competition." 

Troubled by this, I said, "I think we should recognize and honor Pat. She'd love it! She never gets the recognition. And, her gift embodies the widow's mite, that's the spirit of giving we should be highlighting."

Pat was not recognized. I was disillusioned. I would leave that church for another appointment before the building project was completed. 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

 

This is a grand day for children! Halloween captures two of kids favorite things: dressing up, playing pretend and candy. After these times in which we journey, I really feel for the children not understanding what is happening and aware of the major change in their routines.  I look forward to all the ghouls and goblins (kid variety of course...) who will knock on my door this evening. 

As is the case with most holdays, I think of my mom.  Her Halloween Treat bags were

legendary. In her memory, I also make impressive treat bags....just ask the kids in my neighborhood who remarked to their buddies, "You guys must go here!  This house is stacked!" 

For the trick-or-treaters who visited our family house, there was no rush nor hurry.  To each child (the majority of whom were relatives) my mother would exclaim, "Oh! Who are you? I know! You're Ethel Merckenschmitt." (or some other crazy name...). The kid would laugh. Mom would offer another goofy name....child laughs....and this went on for several minutes per child...each child...every child.

Mom always knew the reason for the holiday and maintained the WHY of all of it....children.  Trick-or-Treat was all for the kids.  Come to think of it, so much of what mom did was for children...her own (blessed be) and all those whom she rocked and fed and celebrated. Lesson learned and lived;

Well done decoration

 

Apparently the must-have decoration for the 2021 Halloween season is the 12-foot skeleton. I heard on NPR that persons have paid as much as $90 per skeleton on the black market.....yowzers, that's a lot of bones......

A neighbor on the street behind me previously deorated with great webbing and giant spiders over the porch light and railings finishing the scare by having two large eyes looking out of the two windows on the top floor.  It was so well done that last year I sent them a note of appreciation.

This year when I drove past the house the decorations had changed.  The above photo is this year's offering. I thought it was "cool" and "creative" and referred to the decoration as the "Pumpkin King."

It was a few days later that I got it!  I understood what my brilliant neighbor was going after with this decoration.......do you get it???  Think for a minute.....

The decoration is the GREAT PUMPKIN!  Well done, very well done!  

The classic PEANUTS show IT'S THE GREAT PUMPKIN, CHARLIE BROWN tells us the Great Pumpkin chooses the most sincere pumpkin patch from which he rises and then provides toys to all the children. Yet, he never provides information as to what the great pumpkin looks like. I offer the above photo as I feel it presents a strong example of a regal squash.......

On the list....

This summer my niece, Lydia spent some time visiting...it was grand! I created a scavenger hunt of Pittsburgh for her and her friend.  (If anyone has an interest in doing said scavenger hunt...let me know; clues, photos, food stops...... ) 

Part of the successful completion of the scavenger hunt involved asking persons in our fair city what made Pittsburgh great.  To a person the overwhelming response was, "The people."  I could not agree more.  Ours is a wonderful mix of blue collar real-ness mixed with kindness mixed with loyalty mixed with black and gold everything.

Today, October 27, is the third anniversary of the shooting at the Tree of Life synagogue in Squirrel Hill. It was a Saturday morning, rainy and cold. I knew that synagogue and had spoken there for community gatherings several times. The shock of yet another mass shooting numbs and angers, yet, when it hits this close, in one's city, a neighborhood known, that is a deeper kind of horror.  Pittsburgh is now on the list of locations of mass shootings.  It stings to hear us included in this litany of sadness and brokenness. 

Two weeks after the tragedy, clergy from a variety of faith traditions gathered together in support and to discuss how best to respond, how to help in the healing of our community. You understand how it is at those events, you enter the large room and look to sit at table with persons you know. I sat at a table with seven other persons, friends whom I knew and some persons who were strangers to me.  Being my expressive, verbose self, I was chatting away with two clergy friends and finally turned to introduce myself to the woman sitting on my left. She was quiet, sullen, her head down. "Hello," she said, "I'm Rabbi Cheryl Klein of Dor Hadash. Members of my synagogue were murdered two weeks ago at services at the Tree of Life."

In the days, weeks, months and now years following there have been articles, columns and books written. Monday evening I participated in an event with an author reading from her collection of essays.  A personal favorite was a woman who moved to Pittsburgh and prior to moving researched our city. "Sports teams," she told her husband, "we need to learn about their teams and wear their gear. We'll be part of the city then.  They're sports obsessed."  The woman went on to write that her husband chose the Penguins and she chose the Pirates (bless her....).   

Every essay read, shared a common thread regarding the people of Pittsburgh.  Though not knowing the meaning of yinz nor understanding exactly what it means to "red up" a room...each remarked on the friendliness and kindness of Pittsburghers. 

The Tree of Life synagogue is literally in Mr. Rogers neighborhood. We like to claim him as one of our own. He will always be the most famous graduate of the seminary I attended. As we pause to re-member and to heal our communities, congregations and country, I share this quote from Fred Rogers, "Love is at the root at everything, all learning, all relationships, love or the lack of it."   Hmmmm....someone else I know said and taught something similar.....

Fair or foul

All four years that I played softball for Freeport High School (go Jackets!), our rivals were the Sabres of Ford City. Seemingly every season, the results of our head-to-head matchups determined the section winner. 

What I remember about our opponents, was they had purple pin-stripe uniforms, they presented themselve with an aura of hard-ass-ness right down to some of the players carrying cans of snuff in the back pocket of their uniforms. If tattoos were "a thing" then these lovely ladies would've had full sleeves and one catcher with whom I had a brief altercation would've sported a Mike Tyson-like face tattoo. Charming.

The other thing I remember about the Ford City High School softball team was....they were cheaters.
I'm not suggesting it....they cheated. Their home field had a distinct advantage: the first and third base lines were trenches with the baseline strateigcally placed so that the ball would stop rolling nestled into the side of the moat on the baseline. Of course, everyone on the team would bunt.  Upon being bunted the ball would just stop dead while the fielder ran to dig it out of the baseline gutter.

Recent news stories lead me to think about those Sabre cheats (grudges held long over thirty years stick).  Of course, there are the Houston Astros who are notorious in the world of sports cheats.  They are the team who had an elaborate system of stealing signs between catcher and pitcher and by banging on a garbage can (I'm not making this up) would convey to the batter if the next pitch was going to be a fastball or something off speed.  The quality of a big league hitter is such that knowing what pitch was coming could nearly guarantee a hit.  The Astros won the Series in 2017. A couple of years after the fact news of their scheme was revealed, they got busted, the manager fired and not one player was suspended nor fined.  Grrrrrr..........

To squeeze a lot of lemon juice into that paper cut, the Astros are currently playing for the American League Championsip and the team they are contesting, the Boston Red Sox, are managed by Joey Cora, who was instruemntal in creation and execution of the cheating effort when he was the bench coach for the Astros....sigh... At least my beloved Buccos suck honestly.

In the passing on of General Colin Powell an article in the Washington Post shared a recent interview Bob Woodward had with Powell. Woodward shared that a student in a journalism class asked him, "What does the truth accomplish?"  Powell replied to Woodward, "This is scary. You just scared the hell ouf of me if this is what our kids are saying and thinking."

A trench where a baseline should be on a softball field for a high school that no longer exists is one thing.  Yet, questioning the power of truth....yikes!

As our institutions weaken and facts become as random as the political leanings of whomever is posting or tweeting them, we are in serious trouble. 

Worship has gone to the dogs......

 

Recently, while in the long line at PAGES ICE CREAM (rated as one of the 100 Best Ice Cream places in the country!) a young woman stepped out of line, knelt down, removed a business card from her pocket and enticed a bug to crawl upon it and then, took the card with the bug, walked over to a flower pot and delivered the bug safely into the security of the flower pot. 

I was gob-smacked.  I wanted to ask if she was a Buddhist. I wanted to know more about what drove her actions.

This month many congregations will have a "Blessing of the Animals" service as a shout-out to and celebration of St. Francis.  Pictured in the above photo, he is nearly always drawn, painted, or sculpted surrounded by animals. 

At the center of this celebration is inlcusion and welcome so I'm all for it! It may be part of the proving ground for clergy, yet, I've had several children ask me if all dogs go to heaven?  I've always answered in the affirmative.  Funny, I've never had the inquiry be about cats. Must be that nine lives thing.....

Kids love their pets; like to talk about them, show them off. A "Blessing of the Animals" service is a perfect vehicle for kids and their pets to garner attention.  

With the unseasonably warm temperatures this October many congregations have held the service outside. Honestly, I never thought so to do. We held ours inside, in the sanctuary.

Also, I was idiotic enough to have it be a part of the regular worship service. Live and learn. I admit it was quite a challenge with all the chirping and barking and collective shushing of the congregants gathered. 

It made me think that for Christmas Eve worship it might be fun to hold it in an actual stable, make it more experiential and offer another version of "smells and bells."

Franklin may have been mistaken?

Now begins the season of fear....or, would it be more accurate to say now is when the season of fear becomes more pronounced and tangible and observable. We are a fearful lot. Houses and lawns are being decorated, signs are prevalent for Haunted attractions be it houses or fields or amusement parks, and kids are planning their costumes.

I have neighbors who totally rock the house decorations at Halloween to the point where when returning to my house I drive around to be spooked.  I can do so in the safety of my car and the good acceleration of my vehicle when the gas pedal is fully engaged.     

The neighbor kids are doing a preview of their costumes; thumbs up to the female vampire! 

I'm not a major fan of scary movies. Honestly, I never got over being in tenth grade and watching the film, HALLOWEEN; speaking of, exactly how many sequels of this are there??? What rattled me about the movie was that Michael Myers, the white mask wearing, knife wielding terror-inducer showed up even in the daytime! And, at the conclusion of the first movie when after having been shot multiple times and fallen twenty feet from a balcony ..... survived! The film ends and he's not there....hence, versions 2-5 of this film franchise.....

Why do we like to be frightened?  When I was in church youth group we had the grand idea to do a Haunted House within the basement of the church (!!??!).  How that approval was secured, I do not know.  One of the members of the congregation ran the local funeral home.  He secured for us a wooden casket.  I laid in it and as patrons of our fright fund-raiser approached, I at the opportune time would rise up, stare and reach out my arms. Screams ensued as did selective curse words.

It is that which we do not know that scares us.  In unsettled times, such as ours, we are on edge, scared and for added angst, quite angry.  During another time of uncertainty and anxiety, President Franklin D. Roosevelt told the country, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself." I find myself repeating that line often. Perhaps we go to haunted fields, caves and forests to make tangible our anxiety and worries. Alas, what really troubles us remains and presents itself in very scary ways.....

Being seen

 As we still do the majority of our meetings via ZOOM there is still much WOW! about the technology.  I was on a ZOOM meeting last week and there I am chatting with and listening to and learning from someone in Oklahoma, a person in British Columbia and another individual in Arizona; I will never get over how cool that is.  Alas, there are also the frustrations and nothing beats in-person meetings for connection.  

Someone sent me a meme that compared being on a ZOOM call to holidng a seance; as one waits for folks to join there are the questions of "Are you there, Mike?"  "We can't hear you."  "We hear you, yet can't see you."  Classic.

This morning while participating in a ZOOM style Bible Study, one participant who was joining by phone while on her way to her office to get on her computer said, "I'm here. I'm not visible yet."

In the blockbuster film from several years ago, AVATAR, the blue aliens expressed love by saying, "I see you."  Some of us are old enough to remember the children's television show, ROMPER ROOM and the magic mirror segment were the hostess would hold up the magic mirror and say, "I see Tommy and Johnny and Elizabeth...." I watched that damn show daily for years and not once did I hear my name. I was not seen. Clearly, I'm still carrying a grudge and a hurt.  

Each one of us longs to be seen and to be visible.  Isolation and loneliness kills. There are a variety of reasons why persons hide and make do on the margins. I believe part of our work is to let others know we see them, they are visible to us, they matter.  It's why the theme song for the t.v. show CHEERS celebrated the bar as a place where "everyone knows your name." 

Fall

 

In early elementary school we learned that here in Southwestern PA we have four distinct seasons.  It was a good thing. We are fortunate. I agree and when asked the question, "What's you favorite season?"  I answer by saying I like and enjoy all four seasons, yet, have always been a major fan of fall.

It's the season of gathering in, as a kid I helped my mother to bring the plants inside to the basement set-up of growth lights.

It's the season of securing and hunkering down, it was fall when my father put up the storm windows that he fashioned from wood and heavy plastic.

As we prepare for the slow descent into winter, we also keep hope; I remember my parents planting the flower bulbs for bloom time in spring.

Fall is the World Series. This has always been my favorite sports event and when played outdoors on a grass field it's even better!  

Autumn is when the temperature turns to see-your-breath-cold.  Anyone else stand outside waiting for the bus and "smoke" a candy cigarette or a pretzel rod stogie???

Fall is donning sweaters and sweatshirts (the bigger the better), turtlenecks and tossel-caps.

This is the season of home and hearth and drawing in, a time for books and soup, fires, all things apples and recently that blasted pumpkin spice everything!

Happy Fall!  Enjoy all the gifts and lessons of the season!     

 

Time stopper

 

September 10, 2001. 

It was a Monday. For me, the day after that year's Rally Day, the "official" kick-off of the autumn's education program and the congregation's fall schedule.

On my "To-Do List" for Monday, September 10, 2001 was:

• Review the Rally Day ---- what succeeded and what was great on paper yet not so grand in real delivery.
• Read the lectionary texts for the upcoming Sunday and begin to percolate and see what bubbles up in preparation for writing my sermon.
• Call the young couple to remind them of our meeting that week to finalize plans for their daughter's baptism that coming Sunday.
• Prepare the agenda for the next day's meeting of the Methodist Federation for Social Action (MFSA).
• Finalize my gifts plan for my niece's fast approaching third birthday.

Not on my list and I dare say yours either was to prepare for the world to change. 

On this 20th Anniversary of September 11th, I've been more reflective. I watched Spike Lee's short documentary and was newly horrified by the images. I listened to a great podcst, SACRED GROUND, and cannot get out of my thoughts a mother whose 19-year old daughter was on board Flight 93 and her saying, "I realized this year that my daughter has now been dead longer than she's been alive."  

Each of us alive during that time has stories and reflections.  Where were you? What did you do? What do you remember?  It was a complete stop to hear someone respond by saying, "I was in First Grade and we watched movies all day. It wasn't until I got home that I learned what had happened." 

I'm a quote person and one of my favorites is "God made humans because God loves stories."  That love of stories may be the most significant God-print we carry. Remember your stories of that day. Listen and learn from another's tales. Reflect upon how that day was one that collectively the world stuck-a-pin in it and know how we were before and how we are since that day.

One of my mother's favorite sayings was, "Life goes on."  Indeed it does. Make the most of the moments given....there always seems to be a before and an after;

Bread on the water

Be it a new day, a new month, a new season, a New Year --- I'm all for it!  I like the idea of a clean page, a new beginning!

With yesterday being Rosh Hashannah, Jewish New Year, I made it a point to claim the newness and to do my personal participation in the ritual of Tashlikh.  Meaning to "cast away," the ritual invovles tossing bread upon the waters as a symbolic action of casting away one's sins with the intention to return to one's true self.

I gatherd my bread, tore it into pieces, placed it in a bag and headed to a bridge over a creek in a nearby park.  With each piece of bread tossed, I named the sin and threw the bread into the water.  It was quite freeing to toss and then watch the bits of bread land in the water and be carried downstream.

Alas, one piece of bread landed on a rock.  The water flow was not swift nor high enough to move it. When I finished my bread-toss-confession and release, that piece of bread was still on the rock.

Hmmmmm....what did that mean and what to do? 

I hoped a duck would swim by and eat the piece of bread and in doing kind of become a "scape duck" upon whose feathers the sin and blame was placed. No such luck there and it's also shaky theology.  I took it as a nudge that I still have a lot of work to do in moving forward and freed from that particular misgiving.  

I'm a work in progress and every day am thankful for grace.

"We built this country...."

 In the late 19th Century it was common for a laborer to work 12-hour days, 7 days a week. Children, with their small hands and bodies could crawl into and under machinery and were a vital part of the Industrial Revolution workforce. The Methodist Church took the lead in the creation of Child Labor Laws and the formation of Unions. 

I am proud of both my heritage as a United Methodist and of being the daughter of a steelworker. My family maintains strong union roots.

 

As a kid, I remember my mother packing my dad's lunch bucket; she wrapped the sandwiches in wax paper, included a few homemade cookies, a piece of fruit and a thermos full of black coffee. When dad worked the midnight shift, we kids played even longer outside and when indoors kept the volume low.

Though now the center of "Meds and Eds," Pittsburgh to me will always be blue collar. I relate far better to the millworker, the construction worker, those who shower after work (not before).  

I am drawn to the person with grit; the one who doesn't whine; the one who works until the job is done.  Truly, the working class built this country.  Celebrate, respect and thank the laborers.

Keep the bottle sealed.....

 Even as attendnace at worship services continues to swiftly plummet, there is still a lot of rituals in place.  Persons need a tangible act to mark a loss, a transformational moment, a beginning.  Consider the placing of items to mark a tragedy or a passing. Far more than flowers, the notes and the items left speak deeply.  

One of the real kicks of being clergy is the opportunity to oversee rituals and also to create new symoblic acts for the moment.  There is nothing like a good baptism. I use a scallop shell that I brought back from the beach.  Some families have painted on the shell the name of the child and the date of her baptism.  Following a baptism, I've been asked to bless the child's teddy bear...love that!  Families have started journals for their child on the day of the baptism and themselves and others in the circle of care write reflections that day and every signficant moment in the child's life culminating with a full journal presented to the child on her graduation from high school.  Parents or grandparents of little ones, it's not too late to begin this custom!

One of the coolest rituals I recently read is on the occasion of a baptism presenting the gifts of:

• A sea shell so the child will love the water.
• A bird feather so the child will love the air.
• A flower so the child will love the earth.
• A sealed bottle with the instruction to never, never, never open the bottle so the child will love mystery.     

Living through this pandemic, I've been reflecting on the need to create liturgy and ritual as we journey ahead; words and symbols and actions.

I invite you to share any insights and ideas and will keep you posted in future writings.

Embrace they mystery ----     

Can I open my eyes yet?

Ever watch a little kid play "Hide-n-Seek?" She will stand in the middle of the room, place her hands over her eyes and stand very still; the logic is if she can't see you then you can't see her.  

Last year as the pandemic raged (...sigh it really has not quieted down....) I stopped my subscription to the daily newspaper and quit listneing to NPR.  I chose not to read nor to hear the news.  It was scary.  No one definitively knew anything. I figured if I didn't know anything, I was OK with that and could continue merrily and blissfully unaware. 

Fires burning the western United States, Louisiana with another hurricane and hundreds without power in hundred degree weather, drought in Africa, Afghanistan lost to the Taliban, Haiti having one tragedy after another.....I could go on......it's enough to make me once again cancel my subscription to the paper.  

As kids get older they begin to understand the finer points of hide-n-seek. They will actually go somewhere to hide and when they do they try and make themselves very small and squeeze into tiny spaces.

Fear makes us small. Fear can cause either freeze or flight ---- I've done both very well depending on the situation. 

In scary times, we look for persons who steady us, are our trustpoints.  During these days, I miss my mom doubly so.  She had a tool kit stocked full of ways to handle fear. Sometimes she used humor; after watching a horror movie when I was afraid someone was going to get me she said, "Don't worry, he'll drop you at the first street light."  She used reason.  She used her presence.  She used her faith as she would say, "Perfect love casts out all fear."

We are not made to be small and afraid. 

We are called to shine our light into all those dark and scary places. Even the tiniest light, the smallest candle makes a major impact.  Shine on.....  

ABC's Wrap-Up

V = VOICE  

A frequent refrain from my mother was, "Sally, you don't know how your voice carries!"  

Yes....I do......  

When my brothers were outside and it was time for supper, she would appoint me to be the human dinner bell.  She'd call me in and ask me to let my brothers know it was time for supper. I never thought she expected me to walk up to them and invite them to table. Insted, I would open my mouth and yell, "SUPPER! SUPPER'S READY!"  Supper is a great word to shout out.  One can expel every bit of air in the lungs in the yelling of the word with its two syllables and hard consonants.  Supper.  Try yelling it out sometime and see what happens and who answers or even better who comes to the table.

W = WATERMELON  Another staple of summer.  The watermelon is so much a part of the season we often have our first one on Memorial Day picnics, the "official" start of summer.       

Are there still any kids who have not been told that if you swallow a watermelon seed that a watermelon will grow in your belly?  

I'm a big fan of watermelon; I lke the fruit, I like the flavoring added to hard candy (Jolly Rancher, anyone) and to water and beverages of a more adult variety. 

X = X-RAY  As we once again....sigh....return to wearing masks in stores and indoors (I confess I never stopped so doing) one of the moments that makes me sad is when I see a little kid, a three or four year old, wearing a mask; they are so innocent and I wonder the impact upon them of these days through which we are living. 

The same feeling of sadness occurs whenever in the midst of summer I see a kid with a cast on an arm or a leg. 

In these moments I trust even more on the resilience of children and how they are gifted with both a literal bounce and a wellspring of inner bounce to which they keep coming back and getting up and going forward. 

Y = YELLOW   I have never had done, nor do I think it is soon to happen, my color pallette.  Am I an autumn?  A summer?  What color is my color that when I wear it I own it?  Don't know.  Someone, someday may let me know.  When that happens I hope I already have the wardrobe for it. 

If there is a color for the season of summer my vote goes to yellow --- the golden sun, the jerseys of the 1979 Pirates, a canary melon.....

Z = ZUCCHINI   Be it a dry summer, a rainy summer, an extra-hot summer...whatever the weather the zucchini always seems to thrive.  There is an abundance of zucchini, they fill the stores, the farmer's martkets and our own gardens. There are so many zucchini that we freely and easily give them away....to everyone.

Thankfully,  I like zucchini. I am even more grateful that my mother was an incredible cook and made wondrously creative  dishes with the vegetable.  She pickled it, fried it, made a cake with it, cookies, used it as the noodles in lasagne....I swear if she would have been agreeable to fermentation, we would also have drunk it.