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
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Water and Books
The paper from which books are made is itself composed of wood products and water. Once the paper is in a book, however, adding additional water is never a good idea.
A few weeks back a dehumidifier we were running in the basement started running overtime and it iced up – then the ice melted. Water soaked a small section of carpeting on which were some shelves with books. A few books suffered some water damage. By the way, placing wet books in the freezer seems to help stem the tide of the damage and prevents mold. Our freezer has a few books in it for a time. Taking the books out of the freezer still requires that they dry.
Two books which came through this journey were themselves about spiritual journeys and have been a part of my own journey – Loren Eiseley, The Immense Journey and Thomas Merton, No Man Is An Island. I first read both of these books in college. Eiseley’s was assigned reading for a humanities course I took on the 1960s. Merton’s book was part of my coming more deeply into Christian faith after a time of wandering and doubt. I needed resources for a deeper, richer Christian faith than I had experienced before, intellectual and spiritual resources that could converse with the philosophers and psychologists I had been also reading. Merton was and has continued to be a help along the way.
Drying these books, I came across two passages that seem nicely complimentary. Eiseley begins his book with two quotes, this one from William Temple: Unless all existence is a medium of revelation, no particular revelation is possible. In his book, Merton writes the following: It gives great glory to God for a person to live in this world using and appreciating the good things of life without care, without anxiety, and without inordinate passion (85).
As summer recede and autumn ascends - with its cooler weather, its brilliant colors, its crisp apples it seems a good time to joyously appreciate the good things of life and see where God might be revealing Godself more deeply.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
A few weeks back a dehumidifier we were running in the basement started running overtime and it iced up – then the ice melted. Water soaked a small section of carpeting on which were some shelves with books. A few books suffered some water damage. By the way, placing wet books in the freezer seems to help stem the tide of the damage and prevents mold. Our freezer has a few books in it for a time. Taking the books out of the freezer still requires that they dry.
Two books which came through this journey were themselves about spiritual journeys and have been a part of my own journey – Loren Eiseley, The Immense Journey and Thomas Merton, No Man Is An Island. I first read both of these books in college. Eiseley’s was assigned reading for a humanities course I took on the 1960s. Merton’s book was part of my coming more deeply into Christian faith after a time of wandering and doubt. I needed resources for a deeper, richer Christian faith than I had experienced before, intellectual and spiritual resources that could converse with the philosophers and psychologists I had been also reading. Merton was and has continued to be a help along the way.
Drying these books, I came across two passages that seem nicely complimentary. Eiseley begins his book with two quotes, this one from William Temple: Unless all existence is a medium of revelation, no particular revelation is possible. In his book, Merton writes the following: It gives great glory to God for a person to live in this world using and appreciating the good things of life without care, without anxiety, and without inordinate passion (85).
As summer recede and autumn ascends - with its cooler weather, its brilliant colors, its crisp apples it seems a good time to joyously appreciate the good things of life and see where God might be revealing Godself more deeply.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
Saturday, September 17, 2011
September 11, 2011
Last Sunday I was privileged to speak at the Duluth-area event commemorating September 11, 2001. These are the words I offered:
I begin with words of thanks. Thank you to all those who have worked to help make this event happen today. Thanks to all you who are attending as we both remember the past and consider what kind of future we want to create and the inner resources we have for creating that future. I also want to add words of thanks to all those who work for the safety and protection of our communities. September 11, 2001 reminded us of the countless people who work day in and day out to keep us safe. It reminded us of the human capacity to give of oneself for others. I am grateful for the courage and compassion of those who responded to the horrific events of September 11, 2001 and who continue to respond when disaster strikes.
Today we remember events indelibly etched on our memories. I also want to encourage us today to remember our common obligation as human beings to work for healing, and to care for each other.
I am here this afternoon as a Christian, a follower of Jesus Christ and his way. I cannot claim to speak for all Christians, but I intend to speak from the Christian tradition and to Christians especially, even as my words are spoken to us all, whatever our framework for orienting ourselves in the world.
As a Christian I acknowledge that my faith tradition and the central texts of that tradition have not always been used in the service of healing, compassion, care, reconciliation and justice. Just weeks ago (July 22) in Norway a man making some kind of claim to be Christian went on a killing spree. My Christian faith tradition has been used to hurt, harm, damage.
Yet I believe, and I strongly assert today on this anniversary of September 11, the heart of my Christian faith is a heart that beats for justice, for peace, for reconciliation, for compassion, for caring. Today is a day for we Christians to say that this part of our tradition is what we stand on, this part of our tradition is what we will live out in our lives in a diverse world – a world with Muslims, Jews, Native Traditions, Buddhists, Hindus, others and those who claim no religious tradition.
There are a number of churches in our community that have committed themselves this fall to rediscovering the art of neighboring. An important part of neighboring is seeking to live peaceably with all, regardless of religious differences. The central story Jesus told about loving one’s neighbor is also a story about cross-cultural caring and compassion – the story of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Let us commit ourselves to being good neighbors. It is part of the heart of the Christian tradition.
“Honor everyone” (I Peter 2:17). These words from the Christian Scriptures remind us that respect is an important part of relating to others. Let us commit ourselves to being respectful. It is part of the heart of the Christian tradition.
When we seek to live out our faith, we seek to live with “all humility and gentleness” (Ephesians 4:2). Christians, like those of other traditions, believe we have insight into God and the world. We have truth to share and a way of life to commend. Yet our way of life is a way of humility and gentleness, which means deeply listening to others, respect for others, an openness to learning from others. Let us commit ourselves to humility and gentleness. It is part of the heart of the Christian tradition.
At the heart of the Christian tradition we find an obligation to heal and to care, to work with all others in those tasks, and to build bridges of peace and understanding. In the words of Christian theologian Stanley Hauwerwas written in the aftermath of September 11, 2001: God invites us to respond to September 11 with “small acts of beauty and tenderness,” which… if done with humility and confidence, “will bring unity to the world and break the chain of violence.” Ten years later, the words still ring true and they echo the heart of the Christian tradition.
I begin with words of thanks. Thank you to all those who have worked to help make this event happen today. Thanks to all you who are attending as we both remember the past and consider what kind of future we want to create and the inner resources we have for creating that future. I also want to add words of thanks to all those who work for the safety and protection of our communities. September 11, 2001 reminded us of the countless people who work day in and day out to keep us safe. It reminded us of the human capacity to give of oneself for others. I am grateful for the courage and compassion of those who responded to the horrific events of September 11, 2001 and who continue to respond when disaster strikes.
Today we remember events indelibly etched on our memories. I also want to encourage us today to remember our common obligation as human beings to work for healing, and to care for each other.
I am here this afternoon as a Christian, a follower of Jesus Christ and his way. I cannot claim to speak for all Christians, but I intend to speak from the Christian tradition and to Christians especially, even as my words are spoken to us all, whatever our framework for orienting ourselves in the world.
As a Christian I acknowledge that my faith tradition and the central texts of that tradition have not always been used in the service of healing, compassion, care, reconciliation and justice. Just weeks ago (July 22) in Norway a man making some kind of claim to be Christian went on a killing spree. My Christian faith tradition has been used to hurt, harm, damage.
Yet I believe, and I strongly assert today on this anniversary of September 11, the heart of my Christian faith is a heart that beats for justice, for peace, for reconciliation, for compassion, for caring. Today is a day for we Christians to say that this part of our tradition is what we stand on, this part of our tradition is what we will live out in our lives in a diverse world – a world with Muslims, Jews, Native Traditions, Buddhists, Hindus, others and those who claim no religious tradition.
There are a number of churches in our community that have committed themselves this fall to rediscovering the art of neighboring. An important part of neighboring is seeking to live peaceably with all, regardless of religious differences. The central story Jesus told about loving one’s neighbor is also a story about cross-cultural caring and compassion – the story of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Let us commit ourselves to being good neighbors. It is part of the heart of the Christian tradition.
“Honor everyone” (I Peter 2:17). These words from the Christian Scriptures remind us that respect is an important part of relating to others. Let us commit ourselves to being respectful. It is part of the heart of the Christian tradition.
When we seek to live out our faith, we seek to live with “all humility and gentleness” (Ephesians 4:2). Christians, like those of other traditions, believe we have insight into God and the world. We have truth to share and a way of life to commend. Yet our way of life is a way of humility and gentleness, which means deeply listening to others, respect for others, an openness to learning from others. Let us commit ourselves to humility and gentleness. It is part of the heart of the Christian tradition.
At the heart of the Christian tradition we find an obligation to heal and to care, to work with all others in those tasks, and to build bridges of peace and understanding. In the words of Christian theologian Stanley Hauwerwas written in the aftermath of September 11, 2001: God invites us to respond to September 11 with “small acts of beauty and tenderness,” which… if done with humility and confidence, “will bring unity to the world and break the chain of violence.” Ten years later, the words still ring true and they echo the heart of the Christian tradition.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Remembering
This week many of us are remembering just where we were ten years ago, September 11, 2001 when planes were hijacked and flown into the World Trade Center Towers and the Pentagon building. “Remembering” almost seems redundant. The memory of that day is indelibly etched in most of our minds.
I was a district superintendent in The United Methodist Church then, and part of the leadership for a retreat for the clergy of my district. We were at a camp in northern Minnesota (Northern Pines). That morning, one of the clergy, who was leading sessions on the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory, approached me to say that he had heard about some disturbing events taking place in New York. There was one television set in the lodge, and the reception was rather poor, but we gathered around the set and watched, shaken, saddened and stunned. The retreat ended after we watched for a time, each person returning to their community to be a presence for prayer and healing.
I also remember the time around September 11, 2002. I was driving across the southern Minnesota prairie listening to National Public Radio. Writer and poet Kelly Cherry was being interviewed about a piece she had written to be included in an anthology of writings about September 11. She read her piece, entitled “A Writer’s Pledge of Allegiance.” It was profoundly beautiful and moving, one of the best pieces I have heard or read following September 11, 2001. I cite portions below. The entire poem can be found in September 11, 2001 American Writers Respond, ed. William Heyen.
I believe one must speak and speak truly. I believe in the power of language to show, to move, to solve, to heal, to build…. What is unsaid can be said. What is said can be heard. What is heard can be sung. I believe that the music of humanity must and surely shall encompass everything…. For I believe nothing is beyond knowing. I believe nothing is beyond saying.
I believe this and am without words.
We need words. I, too, believe in the power of words, of language, to show, to move, to solve, to heal, to build. Yet there are moments in life – September 11, 2001 among them, when words cannot capture all that we are feeling, all that we are trying to understand and know. Language arises out of silence and should, at times, give way to silence. “Be still,” the Psalmist enjoins.
On this tenth anniversary of September 11, let there be some silence amidst all our words, and may the words we speak be words of healing, building and solving.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
I was a district superintendent in The United Methodist Church then, and part of the leadership for a retreat for the clergy of my district. We were at a camp in northern Minnesota (Northern Pines). That morning, one of the clergy, who was leading sessions on the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory, approached me to say that he had heard about some disturbing events taking place in New York. There was one television set in the lodge, and the reception was rather poor, but we gathered around the set and watched, shaken, saddened and stunned. The retreat ended after we watched for a time, each person returning to their community to be a presence for prayer and healing.
I also remember the time around September 11, 2002. I was driving across the southern Minnesota prairie listening to National Public Radio. Writer and poet Kelly Cherry was being interviewed about a piece she had written to be included in an anthology of writings about September 11. She read her piece, entitled “A Writer’s Pledge of Allegiance.” It was profoundly beautiful and moving, one of the best pieces I have heard or read following September 11, 2001. I cite portions below. The entire poem can be found in September 11, 2001 American Writers Respond, ed. William Heyen.
I believe one must speak and speak truly. I believe in the power of language to show, to move, to solve, to heal, to build…. What is unsaid can be said. What is said can be heard. What is heard can be sung. I believe that the music of humanity must and surely shall encompass everything…. For I believe nothing is beyond knowing. I believe nothing is beyond saying.
I believe this and am without words.
We need words. I, too, believe in the power of words, of language, to show, to move, to solve, to heal, to build. Yet there are moments in life – September 11, 2001 among them, when words cannot capture all that we are feeling, all that we are trying to understand and know. Language arises out of silence and should, at times, give way to silence. “Be still,” the Psalmist enjoins.
On this tenth anniversary of September 11, let there be some silence amidst all our words, and may the words we speak be words of healing, building and solving.
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Thoughts Along the Way
Since my last blog I have been a part of honoring and saying good-bye to three members of my congregation by officiating at their funerals. I have also been working to get ready for the fall church programming season and have met with our Minnesota delegation to General and Jurisdictional Conference. Writing time has been at a premium.
Along the way a few droplets of wisdom have fallen on me, gifts of grace like a fresh spring shower. They are gifts to be shared.
Christian faith is no sentimental thing. It is a faith that takes all the dimensions of life into consideration.
Reinhold Niebuhr, Justice and Mercy, 34
We are all fixing what is broken. It is the task of a lifetime.
Abraham Verghese, Cutting for Stone, 22
Living is worth the effort if only because without life we could not read or imagine stories.
Mario Vargas Llosa, In Praise of Reading and Fiction, 5
With Faith and With Feathers,
David
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