I have long known the joy of discovering something that touches deeply, that excites, that brings a smile. As a boy there was the joy of discovering a favorite player in a package of baseball cards. Along the way there have been the joys of discovering a long-sought book in a used book store, an idea that helped articulate something I was feeling or thinking but had not found adequate words for, an idea that opens the world up in new ways, a poem that penetrated to the depth of my soul, a song which moved me.
I am not sure what led me to want to find out more about The Replacements, a 1980s band founded in Minneapolis. It think it was a thread of reading which led me to read about this band and think to myself, “I would like to give them a listen.” In the ‘80s the Replacements blend of punk guitar and pop melodies garnered them critical acclaim but little commercial success (The Rolling Stone Encyclopedia of Rock and Roll). I am experiencing some joy of discovery.
One song that has captured my attention is “Sadly Beautiful.” The song has little punk to it. The title describes the song – sadly beautiful. The idea in the title and song describes so much in life, and life itself - - - life will end in death for us all and yet it contains so much that is beautiful.
To live a more fully human life, we need to see life’s sadness and beauty. To miss one or the other regularly is to have a distorted view of life. There is much that leaves one sad – hungry children, war-torn countries, dysfunctional relationships that harm, small disappointments and hurts. I take these seriously. They cry for compassionate response. Yet when I spend too much time and give too much attention to those things that leave me sad, I am in danger of missing the wonder and beauty in life – a blazing sunset, a full moon rising over a lake, the tenderness in so many relationships, small kindnesses and acts of generosity, work large and small for a better world.
And the joyfully discovered idea, poem, song is often helpful in keeping perspective.
Sadly beautiful.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Once Only
Steve Jobs died October 5. Since then we have heard a great deal about his life and the impact it has had on our world. I have i tunes on my computer, have both and i pod classic and an i pod touch. Technological change in my life time has been astounding. Two of my favorite activities have been transformed – listening to music and reading. I have over 6,000 songs on my i pod classic – and I remember carrying record albums to college parties. I can carry hundreds of books on my Nook – though I don’t have that many on there. It was great to put songs from cds on an i pod, but no one yet has figured out how to get the books you already own on an e-reader.
I enjoy my e-reader, but there are still some things about reading a book that one cannot replicate with an e-reader. While you can browse with some ease on a Nook or Kindle, you cannot really flip pages the same way. One gift of such page flipping is the discovery of hidden or forgotten treasures.
Last week I used a poem from Denise Levertov’s book of The Great Unknowing in a devotion for our Board of Ordained Ministry. At other times during our meeting, on breaks, in my room, I allowed myself the joy of flipping through the book, and discovered this little gem.
Once Only
All of which, because it was
flame and song and granted us
joy, we thought we’d do, be, revisit,
turns out to have been what it was
that once, only; every initiation
did not begin
a series, a build-up: the marvelous
did happen in our lives, our stories
are not drab with its absence: but don’t
expect now to return for more. Whatever more
there will be will be
unique as those were unique. Try
to acknowledge the next
song in its body-halo of flames as utterly
present, as now or never.
Wise words well composed – and I will have the joy of discovering this poem by flipping through her book once only. But that is enough.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
I enjoy my e-reader, but there are still some things about reading a book that one cannot replicate with an e-reader. While you can browse with some ease on a Nook or Kindle, you cannot really flip pages the same way. One gift of such page flipping is the discovery of hidden or forgotten treasures.
Last week I used a poem from Denise Levertov’s book of The Great Unknowing in a devotion for our Board of Ordained Ministry. At other times during our meeting, on breaks, in my room, I allowed myself the joy of flipping through the book, and discovered this little gem.
Once Only
All of which, because it was
flame and song and granted us
joy, we thought we’d do, be, revisit,
turns out to have been what it was
that once, only; every initiation
did not begin
a series, a build-up: the marvelous
did happen in our lives, our stories
are not drab with its absence: but don’t
expect now to return for more. Whatever more
there will be will be
unique as those were unique. Try
to acknowledge the next
song in its body-halo of flames as utterly
present, as now or never.
Wise words well composed – and I will have the joy of discovering this poem by flipping through her book once only. But that is enough.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Soul Work
Allow me to tell you a bit about my week last week. I will begin with Saturday morning October 1. That morning I attended a workshop about the new vital congregations initiative in The United Methodist Church. Beginning January 1, we will be submitting certain statistics every week for our congregation: average worship attendance for the week, number of professions of faith for the week (that is, people joining the church who are not currently members of another church), number of small groups that met that week for support and growth in faith, number of people engaged in ministry in the community, and dollars given to mission.
Bookending this workshop were two other ministry events. Earlier in the week I visited with a woman who had recently moved into a memory care facility. Her family felt it best for her own well-being that she no longer live in her home alone. They are genuinely concerned for her, and concerned about how her memory has been deteriorating in recent months. Anyway, I visited her and she was a little confused about all that was going on. She was mourning loss in her life. She was also mourning the death of a good friend and church member who had passed away a week before at age 90. During my visit, emotions welled-up in this woman, and her eyes filled with tears. I reached out and held her hand as we continued to talk and as I prayed with and for her. Two days later, I officiated at the funeral for her friend, and a much-beloved member of the church I pastor. The woman whose life we celebrated was remarkable in many ways. Her kindness was exemplary. Her faith was strong and matched with an inquisitive mind. She had survived the loss of three sons on one tragic night, three boys swept into Lake Superior. She not only survived this, but continued her journey of faith, continued to grow in kindness.
I pay attention to numbers. Every week, I check what the worship attendance has been and I continue to keep this before the leadership of our congregation. We give generously to missions here and pay our apportionments (monies given to our denomination for mission and ministry) faithfully. There is not a year gone by here when we have not welcomed some new persons by profession of faith. We have a number of small groups and this number has been growing due to intentional work by the congregation. Our people are very active in the community and we have begun some new church-based initiatives which reach out to the community. I understand numbers matter. I also know that one of the assumptions of this new initiative is that “our denomination has an adverse reaction and fear of metrics as a means of accountability.” I cannot be the only person who sees some irony here. To raise even constructive criticism of this vital congregations initiative is to be seen as part of the problem, to be seen as one who has only an adverse reaction to and fear of metrics as a means of accountability.
I am going to risk this. I will be submitting my numbers weekly and helping my congregation pay attention to them. I will also be asking us what other numbers might be helpful to us and meaningful for us as we assess our ministry together. Still, I also have to acknowledge that some of what we do in the church is simply difficult to count. There will be no place on any form to quantify holding the hand of a grieving woman. Now if a lay person does this, I can count that – and we have a wonderful lay visitation program at my church. My visit does not “count” though. I cannot count the 200 plus people who gathered to remember and celebrate the life of a remarkable disciple, but remembering and celebrating such a life is immeasurably important to us. It is one way we let people know that the journey of faith is one we take with others. It is one way we care for others. It is one way we communicate that a life matters to God. In soul work, not everything that counts can be counted.
At our best, we United Methodists understand this, even in our renewed fascination with numbers. After all we still follow one who once said something about gaining the whole world and losing our soul.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
Bookending this workshop were two other ministry events. Earlier in the week I visited with a woman who had recently moved into a memory care facility. Her family felt it best for her own well-being that she no longer live in her home alone. They are genuinely concerned for her, and concerned about how her memory has been deteriorating in recent months. Anyway, I visited her and she was a little confused about all that was going on. She was mourning loss in her life. She was also mourning the death of a good friend and church member who had passed away a week before at age 90. During my visit, emotions welled-up in this woman, and her eyes filled with tears. I reached out and held her hand as we continued to talk and as I prayed with and for her. Two days later, I officiated at the funeral for her friend, and a much-beloved member of the church I pastor. The woman whose life we celebrated was remarkable in many ways. Her kindness was exemplary. Her faith was strong and matched with an inquisitive mind. She had survived the loss of three sons on one tragic night, three boys swept into Lake Superior. She not only survived this, but continued her journey of faith, continued to grow in kindness.
I pay attention to numbers. Every week, I check what the worship attendance has been and I continue to keep this before the leadership of our congregation. We give generously to missions here and pay our apportionments (monies given to our denomination for mission and ministry) faithfully. There is not a year gone by here when we have not welcomed some new persons by profession of faith. We have a number of small groups and this number has been growing due to intentional work by the congregation. Our people are very active in the community and we have begun some new church-based initiatives which reach out to the community. I understand numbers matter. I also know that one of the assumptions of this new initiative is that “our denomination has an adverse reaction and fear of metrics as a means of accountability.” I cannot be the only person who sees some irony here. To raise even constructive criticism of this vital congregations initiative is to be seen as part of the problem, to be seen as one who has only an adverse reaction to and fear of metrics as a means of accountability.
I am going to risk this. I will be submitting my numbers weekly and helping my congregation pay attention to them. I will also be asking us what other numbers might be helpful to us and meaningful for us as we assess our ministry together. Still, I also have to acknowledge that some of what we do in the church is simply difficult to count. There will be no place on any form to quantify holding the hand of a grieving woman. Now if a lay person does this, I can count that – and we have a wonderful lay visitation program at my church. My visit does not “count” though. I cannot count the 200 plus people who gathered to remember and celebrate the life of a remarkable disciple, but remembering and celebrating such a life is immeasurably important to us. It is one way we let people know that the journey of faith is one we take with others. It is one way we care for others. It is one way we communicate that a life matters to God. In soul work, not everything that counts can be counted.
At our best, we United Methodists understand this, even in our renewed fascination with numbers. After all we still follow one who once said something about gaining the whole world and losing our soul.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
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