Accord-ion-to-who

I had a hard time finding anyone who could muster the same enthusiasm I had to attend a Polka Mass. They couldn’t understand my fascination and I couldn’t understand why no one was asking “Can we carpool?” Maybe they just didn’t understand. I tried to explain, Polka Mass – it’s basically singing hymns to polka tunes!!!! Make sense? Are you ready now????

Not willing to be thwarted, I went on my own.

It was just as joyful as imagined with accordion, fiddle, piano and brass oompahing the familiar tunes with grace-filled words matching the rhythm. The morning was made all the more dear, in my heart, by their own humble unfamiliarity with the service, sweetened with a generous dose of good-natured understanding and humor. It seemed to fit the mood perfectly singing “Joyful we gather. This is God’s welcoming place…” to the tune of Beer Barrel Polka. How can one keep from smiling and keep singing long after leaving the sanctuary?

I suppose some could find it inappropriate because of the association with alcohol and rowdiness. There used to be a common argument that many of our traditional hymns were actually tavern songs adapted to teach biblical stories and truths. Now the theory is that neither Wesley nor Luther relied on secular tunes to enable their congregations to learn the hymns. So it’s hard to defend polka music using that case. But share “Glory be to the Lord, You reign in glory at the right hand of God. Peace on earth. Peace to all…” with the tune of Hoop Dee Do and it is exaltation!

Perhaps some might frown on the frivolity in worship. Every now and then, if a worship service experiences a generous expression of “freedom,” my husband and I like to mischievously mimic a favorite pastor chastising with his Scottish brogue “This is a worship service!” But as wanderers, what better affirmation of faith than to sing in confidence: “I know that my Redeemer lives, what joy this sentence gives. He lives triumphant from the grave, eternally to save. He lives, He lives, He lives, He lives, Christ Jesus lives today…” (tune: Happy Wanderer)

I know I have a different mind. I think differently, I react differently, and I’m moved differently. No rebuke of my peculiar thinking should be charged against the parental units or the church family. I’m just a mutineer without a ship, so the brain has been the dupe! But next year, I’ll keep my eyes open for the sign in front of the church, so that while the accordion plays a tune called Lichtenstein Polka I can join with the angel choirs singing “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord….”

Accord-ion to some, that's worship!

Words to Our Savior Polka Mass are copyrighted by Our Savior Lutheran Church, Mesquite, Texas

Church, Literally

Now that it's my journeying summer, I'm often asked, "Where have you been going to church?"

The Sunday School passage looked at the verses where poor Nicodemus is trying to understand what he has just been told, “…No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” (John 3:3) Then, as if saying it a second time will be make it more clear if it is said with more urgency (and probably a tad louder) 5Jesus answered, "I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit. 6Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. 7You should not be surprised at my saying, 'You must be born again.' 8The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

9"How can this be?" Nicodemus asked again…. I would have asked - I still ask! Of course I might not even be that articulate. I would probably say something like, "Huh?" Seems like the perfect response! Born again??? What do you do with statements like that? I get a kind of sadness when people take things too literally, often from the Bible, but time after time, that’s my first response when trying to read scripture. How many times do I have to read the commentaries, the annotations, the cliff notes, or the big cartoonish text balloon with arrows pointing to difficult text, “Read before tearing out hair in frustration” before I lose the immediate impulse to address the question literally? Again and again, Nicodemus and I return to ask, “How can this be?” Why can’t people just say what they mean?

At Faith on Tap we reflected on the music of the Dave Matthews Band. Even with an introduction sharing some of Dave Matthews life story, when the song “Bartender” was played our first response was, “obviously just another example of looking for the right answers in all the wrong places.” Clearly there can be nothing redeeming happening in a bar. One has to wonder who picks theses songs for a Christian study anyway. Then with a little help the scales fall from the eyes and you wonder how you missed the message hiding there, in plain view!

Bartender please
Fill my glass for me
With the wine you gave Jesus, that set him free
after three days in the ground

I'm on bended knees,
Oh, Bartender, please
I'm on bended knees
Father, please

"Where are you going to church?" Over the weekend I participated in fellowship with Garland, worshipped at Preston Hollow, reflected with Faith on Tap, downloaded the audio sermon from Mars Hill, read the daily reflections of Richard Rohr, and shared gifts with Camp Gilmont. That's the church where I am going, the same one we've all been attending, one without walls so the wind can blow as it pleases.

John 3: 8 The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

peregrinatio

God’s Gospel of light shall keep you
God’s Gospel shall shelter you
From harm, malice, and evil and from all distress
Christ shall himself shepherd you…
And wherever you may travel
He’ll be with you

Bless to me O Lord the earth under my foot
Bless the path on which I wander
Bless to me O Lord the things that I desire
Bless to me O God my past

Bless to me O God the thoughts filling my mind
Bless my yearning and my longing
Bless to me O God the hope deep in my heart
Bless my seeing and my eyes

…And wherever you may travel
God will be with you
-Journey Prayers

What a song to have as a benediction on the Sunday of my leave-taking! The tune is as comforting as the words. And these words aren’t precise because I couldn’t find the lyrics; try as I might, but the exploration lead me through a feast of Irish blessings and Celtic writings. Even viewing on my small itouch screen, page after page opened as more than a simple coincidence and the words grew larger than life. A word appearing repeatedly is the Celtic term, Peregrinatio describing a seeking, quest, adventure, or wandering to the self and God. Esther De Waal, claims that peregrinatio is “ultimately a journey...to find the place of my resurrection, the resurrected self, the self that I might hope to be, to become, the true self in Christ.”

And I thought I was on a simple leave of wide-eyed wonder, of selfish independence, and of hope-filled discovery! The purpose is supposed to be one of going out; I never suggested it was a pilgrimage to the inner world. Buy the extra-life batteries for this dark hole!

As I’ve mentioned, for one who can fret over every small decision of right or left, fresh or frozen, red or blue, this is one of the surest decisions I can remember. And with no vacillation, still waves of affirmation continue. I accidently mistyped the word God – and on reading back what was in its place?

A BLESSING
Blessed be the longing that brought you here
and that quickens your soul with wonder.
May you have the courage to befriend your eternal longing.
May you enjoy the critical and creative companionship
of the question “Who am I?”
and may it brighten your longing.
May a secret Providence guide your thought
and shelter your feeling.
May your mind inhabit your life with the same sureness
with which your body belongs to the world.
May the sense of something absent enlarge your life.
May your soul be as free as the ever-new waves of the sea.
May you succumb to the danger of growth.
May you live in the neighbourhood of wonder.
May you belong to love with the wildness of Dance.
May you know that you are ever embraced
in the kind circle of God.

The word? Go

Changed For Good

"I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led to those who help us most to grow
If we let them, and we help them in return
Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true
But I know I’m who I am today because I knew you.
Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood
Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better?
But because I knew you I have been changed for good."
("For Good" from the Musical "Wicked")

I don’t think it’s because I’m a slow learner – I think the reason we’ve been constant at FPC Garland for close to twenty years is because there has been so much to learn! I have developed in ways that I could never have imagined, and it’s because of the people who shared a dream or an idea, people who encouraged, people who appreciated, and always because of people who loved. And now, in part, because of the great support, I feel confident to question in a new way; a way that I can only find answered by stepping aside. At the same time, I truly believe that another will find their voice, will be encouraged, and will be appreciated. Of that I am certain and eager.

People do come and go – bringing new faces, fresh spirits, healthy varieties, Thank God! If we had not moved from the previous church, of which we were so fond, we never would have met all the wonderful people at Garland. Would I have found the same steps of faith or the discovery in music? And now we are going to explore for a little while. Perhaps be one of those fresh faces that is needed in another community, bringing experiences from a different place. I think Garland has some great accomplishments to share.

And so our journey begins -
and I am definitely not the same as when I first arrived.
Thanks be to God!

"So much of me is made of what I learned from you
You’ll be with me like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine by being my friend…
I do believe I have been changed for the better."

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