The Feast of Mystery

“It’s a feast!” Since when have those been calming words? I can just imagine Garrison Keillor scripting an entire “Lake Wobegon” monologue about the disdain his practical Lutheran neighbors would have for a feast as it could be interpreted as overindulgent and gluttonous. It would be more prudent to be practical and cut back on the choices and the servings and opt to have a potluck instead of a catered feast. The elders might even try to have “Babette’s Feast” banned from the Wobegon video stores to protect the youth from bad influence and films with subtitles. “It’s a feast!” Calming???

In our faith tradition, during Communion, we tear our own serving from the broken bread as it is passed from person to person. And there is much thought and concentration trying to find the best place to tear the bread that will result in a moderate, safe serving. During the Worship service for our Women’s Retreat, I faced the precarious position of tearing off more than a respectable portion. I was aghast at the piece in my hand. It was huge! My eyes involuntarily gave away my shock as they widened to the size of saucers and I looked in panic to the ones who had handed me the bread. Who better to have at hand than two ordained ministers (I guess some people need more help than others). I was frozen. What was I supposed to do with all that was in front of me? I faced my own liberal serving, the loaf of bread, the Communion cup and the need to share with the next person. “Pass the bread,” Anne offered as guidance. I obediently took the loaf and turned to share with the person on my left. I fumbled with words of “This is the body broken for you.” Then I turned back to confront my circumstance of how to address this random act of plenty. Anne looked into my eyes and spoke words of simple authority. “It’s a feast!” I calmed down immediately. How many times had she encouraged us to take a generous portion? I dipped the bread into the cup, took my first bite, swallowed, and offered the cup to the next: “This is the cup of Salvation,” I could say with more assurance. Then I returned to my feast, and couldn’t help but notice that I was still engaged with the Eucharist as the elements finished across the room. But I didn’t rush and I no longer felt embarrassed. I was nourished.

Perhaps the hiatus is an extension of this experience. Whether the correlation has more to do with the act of reaching for more, or being offered a reserve for a journey is still a mystery, but I am thankful for my guides along the way.

Hymn of Promise

What a job you have done! Like a gardener you have given space for seedlings to grow, grounded in rich nutrients. Practiced hands have shaped and pruned, protection has been offered from harsh elements, shared study recommended further counsel, and affirmations of love have been spoken continually. Imagine the growth in such an incubator! As living proof you've helped raise seminary students, young adult volunteers, mission workers for local and global needs, youth who get up before 6am on a Saturday to help feed the homeless, and a loving congregation that visits and offers prayers, putting their own needs aside.

I don't even pretend to be one of those industrious partners of action, but if I have found the strength to step out in faith, if I have found the courage to seek the mystery, and if I have found the will to make it happen, then I only have you to thank! It truly is a testament to the abundance of support and love that I carry with me. I have a knapsack of treasures; I can feel the weight of the saints, and a song to pass the time.

Hymn of Promise by Natalie Sleeth
In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple tree;
In cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!
In the cold and snow of winter there’s a spring that waits to be,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.
There’s a song in every silence, seeking word and melody;
There’s a dawn in every darkness, bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see….

I also know where I can find a warm bowl of soup, a hug to feel arms around me, and a reminder to whom I belong. There is also a bit of trepidation with the hiatus. I am reminded of so many who have been given an unexpected offering of time – only to find that was ultimately a timely gift as family needs and health required unprecedented concentration and attendance. I will find times when I need that bowl of soup, a hug, and a reminder that God provides, and I hope to find that always with you.

As one who can argue with myself unmercifully about the smallest of decisions in normal conditions, I cannot recognize this sense of peace of decision with this most unusual circumstance. Out of nowhere I find words about change, others on the journey.

These are days that rumble with the distant thunder of change…. We have certain things about our lives that we cannot imagine doing without, and some of them are things we shouldn’t discard…. Beyond our defining covenants, though, we are called to be willing to leave our nets, to pull down the house, to do what it takes to go when God calls. In that year that King Uzziah died, the passage ends with Isaiah answering, “Here am I, Lord; send me.” We cannot let ourselves become so convinced that we are living our best life that we are not willing to see what else God might have for us. And we have to find a way to an “Uzziah moment” when the despairing details of life pull us to a place where we see only empty nets and long nights and have no ears for those calling from the shore. DontEatAlone

Finally I said, “There is something I need to tell you. It’s not a bad thing, but it is a hard thing.” I paused for a moment on the edge of everything. On the edge of my life for the last 20 years and on the edge of whatever is to come.... Every time I told someone my burden lightened. It is VERY clear to me that this was the right decision to make. RealLivePreacher

No Time is Good

One of the reasons I am not good in choir is that I have no timing. I can't count; I can't feel it. I have to anticipate and find other cues that would lead me to hopefully come in at the right time, but it's not very accurate. I also have the same mis-timing when trying to predict the best time to say something. Even I know this is not good timing, but that is where we are.

The news that I need to share is that I will be getting off the early service planning team. I will still be coming to 8:30, and helping with audio, but I do plan to take a hiatus then as summer comes along, including Sunday School.

It's not as caustic as it first must seem. It is not about choosing sides nor power control. It is about change. Which is dreaded more? Change or Evangelism? :-)

About five years ago I had a sense that the church had a Spirit of adventure, a spirit of action and movement. I think that feeling was valid! It's amazing what has transpired!! I'm thrilled with the people who have joined and who visit. The spirit of movement is still alive. Didn't you hear Clay last week?

We all know that there are a lot of changes happening now from the budget, from the economy, from families moving - and now that same sense that told me of the changes in the church is telling me the change includes me. This is a more unconventional change because we aren't moving out of state. I didn't make much of the poem that was included in one of the Sunday School lessons before Christmas, but it was one I wrote, and the repeteated words at the end of each verse were: "there's a change in the air, there's a move by the Spirit, and I wonder, Is there a change in me?"

I have a gypsy heart. I grew up moving every two years and it's hard to explain that longing for new vistas, unless you are my sister who shares that same wanderlust. I don't consider change bad. I CAN imagine myself "seeking other seas." I have known other churches with loving congregations, and we certainly found one in Garland! I also know there are other loving people to meet. Who knows... I could even visit one near the VA! I spend as much time with those neighbors as I do with the ones in Garland, if not more! During the hiatus we plan to go camping. Dennis bought a tent over a year ago that we have yet to use. And I DO know the words of Dorothy... "There's no place like home." I foresee no absolutes in the hiatus.

I also feel strongly, that it is time for me to step away from leading our class. I am keeping someone else from finding their voice, from taking a chance, and I'm keeping the class from hearing and offering their support of that gift. It's a wonderful supportive class!! That's the only way I could have stepped out, and remained out of my normal comfort. In my ideal world I would be like wallpaper and not the chandelier, but the experience has been a blessing, not a burden. I have great hopes for what will come to pass. I know that I have to completely step away, at least for awhile, or I will drift to what is known, what is comfortable, what is safe.

I know it doesn't help that Dennis and I are private people. It's the shock of the unexpected that is catching people unprepared... and I am sorry for that.

Have I prayed? yes. How do I know? It's the feeling of being the right thing to do. One important measure tonight was that when I met with Deb and Kat, I really had few tears.... and for me that is a major test. I can't say the same will be true on Sunday, but those tears will come more from pressure of so many questions at once than from doubt or regret.Why now? In part because of the changes in early worship - but perhaps the course was delayed by those changes. The early service could have been eliminated over a year ago. It sounds frivolous and selfish to have that much preference of time, but was one of the priorities we used when first choosing churches to visit when we moved to Garland. It is also based on the fact that Dennis gets headaches when lunch is too delayed. That is just one side factor, not the determining factor.

I will always rely on our established friendships and your support. I know there will be times when I will call in need. Please do call if I can help... or if there is chili cookin!

Boy, do I miss talking about the weather!
Shalom, and with great love, nancy