Blooming in Small Ways

Texans are often portrayed as being loud and bold with gross illusions of grandeur. Usually the cartoonish character is dressed with over-sized accessories to match the big-headed, big-mouthed oaf who is spouting tales about oil, longhorns and money. “Everything is bigger in Texas” makes some people cringe, but in many ways it’s true. When it takes three days to drive across the state – that’s big! But more than claims of superiority, Texas really excels in the small things like small town courtesies and little flowers on the roadside. During the spring the bluebonnets decorate the highways, towns promote their driving trails and art festivals offer paintings that will remain in bloom for the rest of the year. On an impulse, I decided to take a drive after work a little bit south of town to explore the trails near Ennis. It’s hard to guess when the peak of the season will pass but after days of wind and rain, and more in the forecast, I decided to take advantage of the nice clear afternoon. Additionally, it was getting close to the “magic hour” when the angled sun produces richer tones and I was eager to take some new photos. I found the even smaller town of Bristol, which was like a little hill country retreat less than an hour from Dallas. Intentional planting of bluebonnets added to its beauty with pastured horses, reflective ponds, and sloping meadows. One field was showing the tips of red wildflowers beginning to immerse and will become a vibrant contrast to the cooling patches of bluebonnets. On my way home I stayed on the back roads and realized I was within minutes of a good friend who enjoys life in the country. Knowing that Miss Manners would not approve of drop-in guests, I phoned ahead and gave her a good ten minute’s notice! I happened to arrive as she was finishing homemade seafood chowder (Delicious!!) and I tried to earn my place at the dinner table by helping fix the cornbread and wash dishes afterwards. That’s what neighbors do! It was a night of simple pleasures - budding flowers, sunset, shared meal, and talking around the kitchen table. That’s something to boast about!

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You excel in nurturing the least among us and encouraging our development into a full-grown model of your vision. While there may be giant strides in maturity, behind the scenes it will be the small acts of graciousness, friendship, caring, and feeding that will maintain our growth. We shine independently, but like the bluebonnets, when grouped in common ground, the results are exceptional! We are a rag-tag, rugged bunch, but when given the right circumstances, we may bloom abundantly! We ask that You place us in the proper ground so that we may grow upright into righteousness. Amen.

Which Lane is Right?

A few years ago, both the highway and the feeder streets were improved and widened. The highway lanes have lessened the rush hour crunch and have helped to accommodate the increasing number of homes being built in the outer suburbs. The one area I’m a little leery of is not on the highway, but on one of the feeder roads. In anticipation of heavy traffic two lanes are allowed to make right hand turns onto the access road. The second lane has the option of turning or going straight and in actuality should be the logical turn lane in preparation for entering the highway, but so far no one on my watch is using that lane for turning. Cars continue to line up in a single row and wait their turn patiently. There are plenty of other similar lane markings in Dallas that do work as designed. Drivers take advantage of the double-turn lanes and choose lanes according to their next turn. One day this intersection will change. Some outsider will read the signs and turn right as is their option forcing the single lane to react to this obtrusion into their routine. It will be chaos for awhile as drivers begin to revise their patterns, methodology and temperaments as they jockey for their place in this puzzle. I know one day it will change, and both lanes will allow more traffic flow, but I won’t be the one to topple the first domino! And if I get rightfully bypassed, I’ll try to hold my tongue. “We don’t do it that way around here Mister!” (You know it’s gonna to be a pickup or a sports car – unless, of course, it’s a distracted sedan driven by a woman putting on makeup!) And actually, it can be done that way. Who’s the lemming?

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You are the great designer of life. Sometimes we fail to heed your signs, instead relying on familiar patterns and unobtrusive actions. We don’t want to change our habits, particularly when it is pairing so adequately with so many others. There doesn’t seem to be a need to upset the flow, start consternation and stand out as an instigator. No one seems to be complaining, why should we be the ones asked to make the sacrifice of our anonymity? Despite our knowledge of your imminent judgment, we are planted more firmly in our stoicism than freed by your dreams. Let us remove the shackles of contentment and comfort of routine, finding instead, pleasure and reassurance by the release of our will to yours. Joy can be made that way, if we watch and follow. Amen.

Walking Into Mystery

I thought his actions would earn him the title of the most hated man at church. Not that everyone would feel that way, only half; the half that are males. The brazenness of some individuals to leave behind convention and generalizations to set their own standards of behavior is alarming! This individual took it upon himself to initiate an assembly of almost one hundred people and convince them to give up several hours of their Saturday to meet at the church, even though they would be there again the next day! However, not everyone got the opportunity to decide if they would attend this clandestine meeting. One was brought totally uninformed; in fact, a small conspiracy went so far as to sequester and blindfold the dupe so that there would be no hint of detection. The assembly was prepared to begin when the unknowing participant was brought into the interior hallway. Music was the only sensory cue until the blindfold was lifted. Eyes were barely able to register the environment when new items were thrust forward – something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. The enormity of the planning was realized as she looked down the aisle to find her husband of twenty-five years waiting for her with a robed pastor, a sanctuary filled with family and friends, and a flower girl waiting to start the march. On a wing and a prayer, her husband had successfully planned a service to renew their vows. It’s hard to know if the most astonishing fact was that the whole planning process was done in two weeks or that the secret was kept! She took a moment to adjust her hair and then eagerly stood at the head of the aisle ready to affirm that this was indeed the one with whom she wanted to share her life. It’s hard to say who was the most pleased – the groom, the bride, the pastor or the assembled. “You Are My Sunshine” was played on the piano after their vows were renewed, and spontaneously the song became a congregational chorus instead of the instrumental planned.

So why did I assume that his name would be mud? I thought the wives would start elbowing their husbands asking “Why don’t you do something like that?” Oddly, the women were strangely quiet. While the romance meter definitely scored a 10, the idea of being surprised in front of others, not being able to choose attire, and feeling out of control led wives to issue warnings of harm if the same thing were enacted instead of scolding the spouse for not thinking of the idea first!

My prayer for the congregation?

Impetuous, Wonderful God, you delight in showering the unexpected! You eagerly wait to show off the care and planning afforded to our acceptance, and ensure our shared endeavors will have Holy support. Still, we venture to suggest our preferences and requirements, and hope that our plans conveniently align with the All Mighty. Help us adapt our mindset so that we become more accessible to your proposals of adventure, mission, tasks and blessings. Let us renew and recommit our lives to your eternal covenant and thereafter bask in exuberant grace. It’s hard to say who will be the most pleased – the giver, the receiver, our neighbors, our world.

All That Jazz

Bill Carter stopped trying to separate his two worlds and found a perfect union in sacred jazz. Bill was a professional musician as he entered seminary and is now an ordained minister and pastor of a church in northern Pennsylvania. His jazz quartet Presbybop is finishing their eighth CD, Psalms Without Words. Once he gave up the pretense of having to split his interests he realized there was much in common between the principles of jazz and the foundation of his theology. In an address to Princeton University he shared some lessons learned from his understanding of jazz and faith. “I truly believe there is a realm of beauty and joy which is just out of our reach. An artist aspires to touch these things without clinging to them. That is why we make music with the tips of our fingers or on the edge of our lips. We can touch the music beyond us but we can never possess it. We can be transformed by some higher power but it’s our task to work out the implications of that transformation. We can strive for a lifetime to play the one note that really counts but ultimately we have to find words to proclaim what we hear.”

He likens the preparation of sermons with the embodiment of jazz tunes:
full of improvisations, re-creating and re-telling old words and tunes, giving up control to allow the art to speak, and the necessary response of the community to bring fulfillment. “Like sermons (at least, like my sermons), jazz tunes are unfinished. Both sermons and jazz performances are completed, not on the bandstand or in the chancel, but in the lives of those who have ears to hear.”

He imagines a church acting with the freedom and imagination of a jazz session, playing with the give and take of invested, attentive, active co-creators. “The shared reality we create brings up even more surprises than our individual work…. Trusting someone else can involve gigantic risks, and it leads to the even more challenging task of learning how to trust yourself. Giving up control to another person teaches to give up some control to the unconscious.”

In addition to the willingness to be open to new ideas and chords, Carter also cautions, “like most acts of God, the inspiration is revealed only in subtlety through hard work and flashes of unpredicted brilliance.”

My prayer for the congregation?

God of Creation, you are like an unchained melody: open to new participants, welcoming new voices and finding harmonies that compliment and complete each chorus. As one tone diminishes you pick up the rhythm and lead into the next refrain. God, in our music may we find an opportunity to loosen our control and meet you in the openness of praise as the songs lift our souls. May we welcome the Spirit as guide and composer and enter into the holy symphony with passion and clarity as we are presented opportunity.

My Day in the Sun

The questions on the board read “What was the best day of your life?” and “What was the worst day of your life?” Like Dickens in A Tale of Two Cities it was remarkable how many in the room recalled the two memories being intertwined with one another.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness;…”

For some the best and worst memories had immediately been recognized as coupled even as they lived through them, while others only saw the connection after years had given a new perspective. I know dark days will come, but if my worst day takes longer than five minutes to recall then it confirms that I have had a blessed life. My best day? I’m still leaving my options open for tomorrow or the next day, but without a doubt I can replay one glorious late afternoon as if I had a recorder waiting to hit play. My husband is a superb vacation planner and on one of the last days of the trip he planned a late afternoon cruise on a catamaran. The boat hugged the coastline while the sun was still high enough that it provided warmth against the cool winds. As we pulled away into the open waters we built up our confidence to first inch and then steadily progress out onto the netting. Others preferred to stay closer to the hull where there was seating and food and protection from the wind. But I loved the wind in my face, being a part of the dip and raise of the boat, hearing the whip of the sails, being able to see the water beneath me and feel the spray of the waves. I could have stayed on that boat for months instead of hours! When we returned to land our boys played on the beach well past sundown, splashing in the surf, digging tunnels in the sand, and looking for shells. We stayed on the beach as long as we could; preserving the memory of a day well lived.

My prayer for the congregation?

Mighty God, You long to share your majesty. We can only appreciate glimpses of your infinite splendor before we are awestruck and mesmerized. We gaze at the majestic mountains and contemplate your grandeur, we search the open waters and compare your vastness, we follow the colors of the sunset and are limited by words , we count the glowing stars and are lost in your creations, and we hear the cry of a baby and are brought to our knees. Of all the incredible wonders we have the privilege of witnessing, the ones with which we have nothing to compare are the miracles of changing evil for good. In our worst days we feel lost and unsure. In our best of days we are certain of your abiding love and resplendent grace. May we be used as instruments of caring, for at our best, we are your servants, yet at our worst, we are loved still. Amazing grace! Amen.

An Average Day

It’s an average day. I can’t think of anything outstanding that made it worse or better than another day. Maybe it took a little longer to pick out something to wear, but I was at my office with ten minutes to spare. I considered staying a little late but left at a normal hour – for me. It was a routine day: answered the usual questions, laughed with friends, fought through email, juggled orders, drove at a moderate speed, fed the dogs, spent time on the internet, ignored TV, and because I longed for a wee bit of excitement, I threw in two loads of wash once I got home. In high school we lived on such a quiet street that my friend and I felt sure we could sleep in the middle of the road and not be disturbed. It was almost the opposite of the Princess and the Pea tale and we were quite perturbed by our humdrum routine. Some people pray for a return to an average day after experiencing chaos and change and they wonder when their life will return to normal. Sometimes normal, usual and average have to be re-defined as a benefit of growth, but at times chaos rules and begins to feel like the new gauge for normal, to the detriment of sanity.

My prayer for the congregation?

Extraordinary, Life-Pulsing God, you creations are tempered by sound judgment, divine planning, and insightful concern. Nothing is left to chance. Nothing is ordinary in your realm. Let us rejoice in the simplest of days alongside celebrations, appreciate calmness beside turmoil, and diminish calamity until peace regains. Let us routinely review our standards and expectations to encompass the greater values of your shared wisdom and depthless love. Even though we may feel invisible and plain in our ordinary day, we are never withdrawn from your watchful care. Let us go forth in confidence every day, regardless of its significance, cloaked by your courage, strength and compassion. An average day can be mighty if lived as a Christ follower. Amen.

Safe at Home

Baseball, perhaps more than any other major sport in the US, is identified as Americana. I grew up hearing the jingle “Baseball, Hot Dogs, Apple Pie and Chevrolet” which the car manufacturer hoped to engrain as what proud Americans should hold dear. It’s made a lasting impression on me! Baseball may have been the best choice in this campaign over the other major sports, has any other sports integrated their vernacular into the daily speech as much as baseball?

When someone helps you out,
they went to bat for you.
When someone does a lot to get a job done,
they stepped up to the plate.
When someone doesn’t do well,
they struck out.
When someone does really well,
they hit a home run.
When someone steps in if you’re having trouble,
they pinch hit for you.
When someone tries to fool you,
they threw you a curve ball.
When someone does fool you,
they got one by you.
When someone does a fantastic job,
they hit one out of the park.
When someone makes the wrong decision,
they made a bad call.
When someone just barely does something correctly,
they just slid by.
When someone is a tough negotiator,
they’re playing hardball.
http://blogs.timesunion.com/bethlehem/215

In the next room I can hear the Japanese team playing the Koreans in the finals of the World Baseball Classic. In this tournament, one would assume that the US had an advantage, both in skill and location, and might go so far as to assume that their place in the finals was concrete. This is where the best from all countries come to earn credibility in professional baseball. But instead of an automatic write-in, the US was eliminated in the semi-finals, and even more crushing, in an earlier bracket, their game was stopped early because the other country was so far ahead in the score. How does this happen? It is OUR sport after all.

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God , you are the great equalizer. In your care, not one thing is given more esteem than another. We begin to think that gifts you have placed in our care belong to us, which immediately places us above another. We begin to think we have more insight into your word, are more attuned to your song, and are more privileged to your mission. Let others stand aside! As we puff our chests in pride at being your favored child, we stand bewildered as you make room for more. Yet, before we can complain, we notice the warmth of your presence has not changed, the pressure in the small of our back has not lessened, and the generous light has not waned. You want us to be near - near to you, near to our neighbor, and near to our rival, so you call us to come closer still. Let us relinquish ours for yours. Amen.