Author: Rosemary Lovelace

November 6, 2024

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough. ~Meister Ecka

Friends, These past two weeks at Holy Family have been filled with signs of hope, enthusiasm, and teamwork among so many of you. Thank you!

Our Stewardship Kickoff celebration, the glorious Rutter Requiem on Friday, and the services on Sundays are all outward and visible signs of a vibrant community and remarkable energy. And, I have met several new visitors to our parish, including a former member of the Cathedral who now lives in Big Canoe and will be joining Holy Family. We have now gone “live” with our search, thanks to the tireless efforts of our nominating committee, led by Martha and Steve! Thank you!

This week we will enjoy our monthly Wednesday healing service, and on Friday a contingent of us will journey to Holy Innocents parish for Diocesan Council. This parish is deeply important to me, as it was where I began my journey into the Episcopal Church as a 16-year-old soon-to-be lapsed Presbyterian! On Saturday the 16th we will host a Men’s Retreat, and I hope some of you can join us to discuss the epidemic of loneliness, and how fellowship among men can have practical applications for wholeness in mind, body, and spirit.  Please keep in mind our Stewardship drive as we move toward the Advent season, and pick up a Holy Family polo shirt, sweatshirt, or hat as we seek to spread the good news about our beloved parish! A deep bow of gratitude to each of you for your good and faithful ministries among us.

Donald Winnicott, one among my mentors in clinical work, once said that he knew his patients were getting better when they recovered or discovered their capacity for imagination. Let’s continue to imagine the future and hope together, shall we?

And Gabriel Marcel, a theologian and philosopher whose work I have long admired, suggests that “creative fidelity” involves giving a part of ourselves to others, which we do by sharing love and friendship, as well as through the creative, performing, and fine arts. Creative fidelity binds us to others (religio…to bind together) recognizing the subjectivity of others…their sacred individuality, while expressing our own. Creative fidelity is the tenacious, constant desire to elaborate who we are—to have a greater sense of being, we need creative fidelity. We become creatively faithful when we bridge the gap between ourselves and others when we make ourselves present to them. 

One of the most famous biblical passages is 1 Corinthians 13: 1-13. In what some authors call a Christian hymn, Paul emphasizes that those at Corinth should seek agape love. He contrasts the value of spiritual gifts, acts of compassion such as donating to the poor, and even martyrdom with agape love. Paul’s clear message is that the members of the community must not simply love each other in the way of philia, but in the way of agape.  

Likewise, hope guarantees fidelity and loving kindness by defeating despair—it gives us the strength to continually create—but it is not the same as optimism. Hope is not passive; it is not resignation or acceptance. Instead, “Hope consists in asserting that there is at the heart of being, beyond all data, beyond all inventories and all calculations, a mysterious principle which is in connivance with me.” 

This implies that hope is an active, hopeful compassion, not a surrender, not only for us, but for and on behalf of others. For Marcel, genuine hope means we cannot depend completely upon ourselves—it derives from humility, not pride. It depends on communities like our own Holy Family.

This photo was taken on our recent trip to Europe, with twin grandchildren Alice and Jack in the foreground. As Victor Hugo said:

“To love or have loved, that is enough. There is nothing like a dream to create the future.”~ Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

I am grateful for the love we share at Holy Family, and for the ability to dream for the future!

Let’s continue to imagine the future and hope together, shall we? I’ll catch you later down the trail, and I hope to see you in church!

Bill+

November 3, 2024

24th Sunday after Pentecost – Bill Harkins

The Gospel: John 11: 32-44

When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?” Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

In the name of the God of Creation who loves us all…Amen.

Good morning and welcome to Holy Family on this 24th Sunday after Pentecost, and a weekend when we observe the Feast of All Souls. Today we hear a Gospel passage about life abundant. We are called to consider the choices that may lead to a theology of scarcity, or abundance. And let’s remember that we will revisit the Lazarus story again during Lent, because the context of the passages for today eventually causes the council and the high priest to plot Jesus’ death. Indeed, in the Palm Sunday story we hear these words: “So the crowd that had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to testify…the Pharisees then said to one another, ‘You see, you can do nothing. Look, the world has gone after him!” It is precisely this feeling of powerlessness in the face of a charismatic, potentially dangerous figure that impels the Pharisees to seek Jesus’ death. Indeed, it is the resurrection of Lazarus that leads to Jesus being killed. So, we find a theme that runs throughout these passages and the passion narrative from today, to Holy Week: the theme of ego, hubris, and pride versus self-denial and the death of ego.

This is the paradox that runs throughout the drama that unfolds this week. “Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” This paradox is not limited to agricultural examples. In my work as a pastor and therapist I see this remarkable truth borne out again and again. Persons whose egoism, pride, and selfish desires so obscure their true selves that they are trapped in a cage of “I, me, and mine,”—and are thereby cut off from God and others. As my colleague Walter Brueggemann from Columbia Seminary has said, we tend to view the world from the perspective of a theology of scarcity—we live as if there is simply not enough of God’s abundant love to go around. And so, we grasp at those things at hand to secure us in our anxiety—to make us feel whole, to tell ourselves that we can do just fine without relationship to God and others. The ways we seek to do this can often take seemingly benign forms. Indeed, we can often use the very tools with which we are taught to construct our lives, even in wonderful educational institutions. Academic excellence, athletic glory, talents of one kind or another are all good things, to be sure. But it is precisely the nature of the human to be at risk for misusing them—for construing them as ultimate—as enough to ground us in sacred ways—when they cannot. We see this paradox at work in the narrative that unfolds this week. The world is fickle. As Walter Brueggemann has reminded us, the world is often an unreliable place, neither its hostility nor its adoration can be trusted. Those who shouted “Hosanna!” on Palm Sunday will shout, “crucify him” on Friday. Jesus’ opponents will succeed in killing him, but their apparent victory will turn to dust as Jesus emerges from the tomb and begins to “draw all people to himself.” Death, in this story, paradoxically ends in relationship. The seed must die if it is to bear fruit. Those who rely too much on the trappings of the ego, and forego the path of servant-hood, are at risk. The paradox is this: to die to ourselves is to live fully, in relationship, with compassion. Indeed, arguably, compassion—a radically relational idea, is the cardinal virtue of the pastoral tradition, and it has a rich heritage in our Judeo-Christian tradition.

In Judaism compassion, or rachamin, is the first of thirteen attributes of God listed in Exodus 34:6. The Hebrew rachamin links compassion to the idea that all human beings are related, and connects compassion with justice and obligation in such a way as to emphasize action, rather than feelings. From the Latin, com-passio, means to suffer with the other. Thus, we accept God’s love for humanity and the intrinsic worth of every individual as a child of God. “Drawing all to himself,” then, God calls us into relationship, and compassion occurs precisely in the context of relationship. But we must get ourselves out of the way for this to happen. I am reminded of a wonderful short story, by Garrison Keillor, in which he recalls a game he played as a teenager, with his beloved Aunt Lois. “My favorite game was strangers,” he said, “pretending that we didn’t know each other. I’d get up and walk to the back of the bus and turn around and come back to the seat and say, “Do you mind if I sit here?” And she said, “No, I don’t mind,” and I’d sit. And she’d say: “A very pleasant day, isn’t it?” We didn’t really speak that way in our family, but she and I were strangers, and so we could talk as we pleased. “Are you going all the way to Minneapolis, then?” “As a matter of fact, ma’am, I’m going to New York City. I’m in a very successful hit play on Broadway, and I came back out here to Minnesota because my sweet old aunt died, and I’m going back to Broadway now on the evening plane. Then next week I go to Paris, France, where I reside on the Champs-Elysees. My name is Tom Flambeau, perhaps you’ve read about me?” “No,” she said, “I’ve never heard of you in my life, but I’m very sorry to hear about your aunt. She must have been a wonderful person.” “Oh, she was pretty old. She was all right, I guess.” “Are you very close to your family, then?” “No, not really. I’m adopted you see. My real parents were Broadway actors—they sent me out to the farm thinking I’d get more to eat, but I don’t think that people out here understand sophisticated people like me.” She looked away from me. She looked out the window for a long time. I’d hurt her feelings. Minutes passed, but I didn’t know her. Then I said, “Talk to me, please.” She said “Sir, if you bother me anymore, I’ll have the driver throw you off this bus.” “Say that you know me. Please.” And then, when I couldn’t bear it one more second, she touched me and smiled, and I was myself again.” Indeed. We become our true selves in the context of relationship. The Gospel of John reminds us of this truth. We must die to the messages of success that we receive so often in our culture—that the path to freedom lies in our self-motivated ambitions and accomplishments and that we are justified in doing whatever is necessary in achieving our goals. And alienation from self, other and God can result in many different forms of death. Jesus was a master at recognizing that relationships have the power to heal what is broken, even when we do not recognize it ourselves.

The story is told of the response of some in Denmark to the Nazi invasion of that country. I first heard this story in a history class at Rhodes College, but it bears repeating here for many reasons. Seems that in 1940, German tanks rumbled across the borders of the peaceful country of Denmark. The Nazi’s, already possessing control of Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Poland, encountered little resistance from the small northern nation. Soon, other countries fell to the German forces as well: Norway, Holland, Belgium, and France. Vicky and I have recently returned from Paris, where many reminders of the occupation of that city by Nazi Germany remain. As part of their systematic method of intimidation and oppression, the Germans announced that every Dane of Jewish descent would be required to wear a yellow Star of David. They had done the same thing in Germany and other countries. Any Jew who failed to comply would be put to death. The Star of David, a proud symbol of the Jewish faith and culture, would be used to mark them as undesirable members of society—to rob them of their dignity, their possessions, and even their lives. The Danish government and its people were in no position to do battle against the powerful German army. But their leader, King Christian the 10th, made a bold and courageous move. He called for all the Danish citizens to wear the Star of David, for every Danish household to stand in solidarity as partners with their Jewish neighbors. And remember, many leading theologians of the day used scripture to justify the Nazi persecution of the Jews. Tremendous fear must have gripped the hearts of those first Gentile citizens to venture forth from their homes the morning after the Kings’ announcement. Would they be the only ones to heed the Kings’ announcement? Would they be singled out, prosecuted and killed along with their Jewish brothers and sisters?  

What they saw was nothing short of a miracle. There were Stars of David everywhere. The Jews among them wept when they love and support of their fellow Danish citizens. And because the people stood together, the Nazi’s full plan of persecution of Jews in that country was never carried out. God calls us into relationship. And these relationships of accountability and transparency have the power to heal what is broken, to make whole our tendency amid a theology of scarcity that we alone have what we need to secure ourselves. And the great paradoxical truth is that to be fully in relationship, we must die to ourselves and give ourselves over to compassion. This is the great common denominator of the great religions of the Abrahamic tradition. There is plenty of God’s love to go around, and it is passed one to another in relationships like those I have described this morning. Drawing all to himself, Jesus asks that we die to self. In so doing we do not die to excellence in academics, athletics, art and drama—all the wonderful qualities that make this school the remarkable place that it is. Rather, we are asked to keep these goals in perspective, and remain vigilant, lest we lose sight of that which is most deeply human—that it is more important to be in relationship, than to be right—more important to die to self, than to live in the belief that the self is all we need. Yeats reminded us that without relationships of accountability and compassion “things fall apart; the center cannot hold.” Without dying to self, “the best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.” This season of All Souls reminds us that these categories are not mutually exclusive. We can be persons of conviction, embodying the Divine spark of compassion that is our God-given gift. God calls us into relationship, where we can become our truest, best selves—precisely when we lose ourselves in service and compassion. In this season of stewardship let us remember to give ourselves away, with gratitude, in relationship.  Amen.

October 30. 2024

As I write in the pre-dawn darkness, I am so grateful for this community of Holy Family. The services and festive stewardship kickoff gathering on Sunday were wonderful and were the result of the good and creative work of so many. A deep bow of gratitude to Loran and her team for a fantastic event. I am so very grateful for their energy, vision, and the necessary leadership to see that vision through to reality! As the old song goes, “There’s a sweet, sweet spirit in this place.” Indeed, there is, and I am so very proud of and grateful for each of you. 

And thank you to Jacques and his team (Tony Militello, Terry Nicholson, Bruce Elliot, Andy Edwards, and all who jumped in to help!) for such a bountiful repast, done with excellence, grace, and hospitality! Wow! Laissez les bons temps rouler!

Jim Braley’s stewardship message during the worship services was spot on and set just the right tone for the next phase in our efforts. Thank you, Jim!

In this season of giving at Holy Family, let’s promise, one to another, to remember that we are all leaders by virtue of our Baptismal Covenant. Leaders come in many forms and are based on our awareness of our gifts and graces. Among the most distinguishing characteristics of leaders is a willingness to give of themselves considering these gifts and abilities. Indeed, our own Holy Family has a long history of engagement in the community, I am reminded of this lovely poem by Wendell Berry, appropriate as we approach the Feast of All Saints:

There is No Going Back

– Wendell Berry

No, no, there is no going back.

Less and less you are

that possibility you were.

More and more you have become

those lives and deaths

that have belonged to you.

You have become a sort of grave

containing much that was

and is no more in time, beloved

then, now, and always.

And so you have become a sort of tree

standing over a grave.

Now more than ever you can be

generous toward each day

that comes, young, to disappear

forever, and yet remain

unaging in the mind.

Every day you have less reason

not to give yourself away.

While widely different in expression, the power of giving back is evident in our own community. One need only look around to see the Spirit of giving manifest in so many ways, from so many committees and individual parishioners who are contributing: from shaping our vision moving forward (“Lay led; clergy supported”) and countless individual acts of helping others and contributing to the ongoing life of the parish. These volunteers selflessly share expertise, time and talent to make our congregation all that it is. This connection to purpose and making a difference is rooted in our DNA as leaders…and again, each of us is called to lead!  

Most striking is the effect giving back has on us. One might argue we do this for others and for the good of our community, but as it turns out, it is also good for us. In fact, there is some evidence that links these acts to improved well-being, including better physical and mental health. A recent study found that those who volunteer reported lower blood pressure and stress levels, less depression and higher self-esteem. A separate study found that people 55 and older who volunteered for two or more organizations were 44% less likely to die over a five-year period than those who didn’t volunteer—even accounting for such factors as age, exercise and general health. Research also has shown that generosity provides psychological benefits by stimulating parts of the brain associated with empathy and happiness. Compassion, empathy, and gratitude can be cultivated, and can change our neural pathways and neurochemistry

https://www.forbes.com/sites/traversmark/2024/05/22/a-psychologist-explains-how-to-hack-your-brains-gratitude-circuit/

Giving back also encourages others to do the same. Instilling and sharing this part of us connects us and nurtures us as a leadership community. As we approach the season of giving and reflect on the year, let us also reflect on the power of giving back and how it can fuel and inspire us. Fostering this in others may be one of the most meaningful and enduring steps we can take as leaders. Be sure to thank those on the Nominating Committee who, led by Steve Franzen and Martha Power, have worked tirelessly to prepare us to call our next rector. And remember that each prospective candidate will take a close look at our financial well-being!

As such, leadership by giving back is a form of what theologian Merleau-Ponty called “intertwinement“–cultivating and adopting an ‘attentiveness and wonder’ towards the world. And our intertwinement with others extends, equally, to our relationship with the natural world – a theme that theologian Merleau-Ponty was increasingly drawn towards in his later writings. Gabriel Marcel referred to this as disponibilite’ –loosely translated as spiritual “availability”, or an openness to the other, readiness to respond with some measure of specific actions—giving among them.

So, look around Holy Family in the coming weeks, and look for opportunities to give of time, talent, and money. Consider joining a committee, or the choir, and pick up one of the wonderful new Holy Family shirts, hats, and hoodies. Wear them around the community with pride! Join us on Friday evening for the lovely and inspiring Rutter All Saints service. Let these words from 2 Corinthians (9:6-8) inform your own choices about leadership: “Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” As Jesus reminded us, he came so that we might have life and have it abundantly. I pray that for each of us, giving back can be one measure of abundant life. After all, “every day we have less reason not to give ourselves away”!

As Advent approaches, a season of watching, waiting, and hopeful anticipation, let’s be leaders together toward the common goal of strengthening Holy Family, and co-creating the next chapter of our lives together in this sacred place. Remember this week to exercise your sacred right to vote, keeping in mind our core Baptismal covenant to go in peace, and respect the dignity of every human being.

I’ll catch you later down the trail, and I hope to see you in church!

Blessings, Bill+

October 27, 2024

23rd Sunday after Pentecost – Ted Hackett

Lessons 10: 6-27

Job and Evil

The last four Sunday’s Hebrew Bible readings have been from the Book of Job.

In those four readings we have pretty well covered the Book …

Hebrew Scriptures…our Old Testament…

Have four parts…

The Law…the first 5 books, the Prophets, and then pretty much everything else … called the “Wisdom Literature”…

Wisdom contains a lot of good sage advice about how to live….plus some stuff that doesn’t fit any particular category.

The Book of Job goes here.

You all know poor Job…and the saying : “The patience of Job”…and of course we have read selections from it over the past four weeks.

So basically…you know the story…

but let’s review…

It’s a very theological story!

Job is a good and righteous man…

He is generous…supporting widows and poor people…making civic gifts..

He is so well respected that when he goes to sit among the men of the community where they gather by the front gate of the city…that the other men do not speak…out of respect.

And Job was very prosperous…

Property, crops, livestock, Sons and Daughters

 And in his time and place…

According to orthodox theology…

Such success was proof of his righteousness…

A leader, a philanthropist…

Respected by all…

Job had everything…

And he deserved it!

Meanwhile…

In Heaven, God is sitting in his omnipotent majesty…

Looking down on Job with some pride!

Job is pretty much what God intended us to be…faithful and righteous.

But then…the plot complicates…

In comes Satan…

Satan….the “adversary”…the “accuser”.

Now, you may ask: what is Satan doing in Heaven… 

And how come he and God seem like pals?

Good question…

No one seems to have come up with a good answer as to why evil exists…

Why God allows it to exist…certainly I don’t!

But…there it is…

Evil is a reality!

Well…Satan has been, he says, patrolling earth…

Checking things out.

God asks if he has observed Job…

God is proud of him…he’s so good!

Satan says: “Of course he’s good…why shouldn’t he be…You’ve given him everything!” “But”, says conniving Satan… “take away his prosperity and he will curse you!”

God takes the bait…

He’ll strike him with all kinds of misfortune and bet Job will remain faithful.

And he does!

To make a long story short…

Job does not curse God in his misfortune…

Satan insists…hit him with more misfortune…

Take away everything except his life!

In this long agonizing process…Job’s friends and even his wife…give him advice…

The leading theory offered to Job is that he must be hiding some secret sin…

God knows about it and Job must confess! 

But Job is truthful…

He is not hiding a secret sin!

Even Job’s wife…who is tired of his misery…

Tells him: “Go ahead…Curse God and die!”

But Job has too much integrity to do that!

So, sitting on a dung-heap, in misery, scraping scabs off his body with a potsherd…

He dares God to meet face-to-face…

He asks God to explain his unjust suffering.

Now, Job is speaking for all humanity….

WHY IS THERE UNDESERVED SUFFERING? Why are innocent Palestinians and Jews dying?

Why are children starving?

Why do corrupt politicians get power and grind down the needy?…

For that matter…why are there natural disasters?

Earthquakes, forest fires, landslides, plagues…

Only part of this can be laid at the feet of such as humans misusing nature…

Job is wrestling with the problem Dostoevsky put this way: “The death of one innocent child refutes the goodness of God!”

So Job challenges God to a face-to-face meeting…

And surprise!…God agrees…which is unusual!

But when God appears…what happens?

God makes a power-play!

Who is Job… measly, powerless, just human, Job?

Did Job create the mighty seas?

The stars…sun, moon?

The vast array of animals and the

Other miracles of nature?

Next to God, Job is a puny moment.

Next to God…

Humans are like dust!

And of course, confronted with the infinite, omniscient power and majesty of God…

Confronted with glory of God…

Poor human Job cannot stand…

How does one argue with the omniscient creator and sustainer of all that is or ever will be?…

There is no way…

Job caves in and says:

“I see you and I repent in dust and ashes!”

God has pulled a power-play and simply overwhelmed poor Job…

But notice….Job has never retracted his complaint…

Job has submitted to power…

But he has not taken back his accusations…

He has been treated unjustly.

The final act of the Book of Job has God restoring him with even more goodies than he had before…more animals, more crops more children and more public esteem…

Seems it is “happily ever after”ending…

The idea is, God is fair and just after all…

Though I wonder about those dead innocent family members…

But probably a scribe added this ending to square with the theology of the time

Probably the original left things up in the air…or there may have been a less “Happy ever after” ending.

But the question in Job…which is our question too   is not answered…

How is it that bad things happen to good people?

That innocent children are bombed and their parents maimed or killed?

Job’s God has no personal experience of the plight of we little human beings…Of a mourning Jewish or Palestinian mother…

But Jesus was different…

God may have been moved by Job’s argument…and decided to share our human experience.    

We know he changed his mind and healed an unclean Gentile child.

Because he had compassion…

God changed God’s mind!

Think of it…

God changes the Divine Mind.

Of course in the Hebrew scriptures, God changes his mind all the time…

For instance when God is angry at Israel sometimes someone like Moses cleverly talks him out of destroying his people…

It happens several times…

God even repents…spares wicked Nineveh for instance…

But in most of the Old Testament God still acts like an all-powerful dictator.

But something happened around the time of later Judaism…

Around the time of Jesus…

God….who had been the omniotent ruler of all…

God…who conceived, created and sustains all that is or ever will be…

God who is infinite and above all the messiness of human life…

Decided…maybe after his encounter with Job…

Decided he really could not fully understand us…

Could not understand we humans…from the infinite distance of eternity…

So God….became incarnate from a human Mother…

For us humans and our salvation…

Became one of us….became human!

As Paul says:

“Emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born human…”

And then…He suffered and died…

Pinned to a criminal’s cross for hours of agony…

God knew…

God lived though human pain and doubt and fear…

And God…I dare say it.

God died our human death!  

So now there is nothing in our experience which God does not know from God’s own experience!

So…then…

Why doesn’t God “fix” it and get rid of sin and suffering and death?

I don’t know…

No one does I suspect…

But we do have a promise…

A promise from one who knows…personally…

What it is to suffer helplessly…

To die our death…                  

But then…to rise victorious…

God died a human…a human like you and me…

In order that we might become like Him…

And live forever in the fullness of love!

So now even in the face of death…

We can sing: “Alleluia! Alleluia….Alleluia!

October 23, 2024

Many years ago, while a Postulant at Holy Family, I was invited by Pete Cook to drive to a Dahlonega tree farm for “a few maple seedlings.” Pete knew the owner, who gave us a good price for a particular hybrid maple he admired. Over the next several weeks we planted the trees that now line our parking area, so lovingly cared for by our indomitable grounds crew. Now those trees are turning many lovely shades of red, orange, and yellow. Autumn arrives slowly here in the Southern Appalachians, and I delight in the subtle changes in the woods this time of year. A walk on the trails reveals lovely vistas, but the earth beneath our feet is revelatory as well. An ancient oak, split in half by recent storms, now presents a window on the world of deep fungal connections we seldom see. The forest is indeed alive, and as it turns out, we are more fully alive in the forest:

https://www.outsideonline.com/health/wellness/take-two-hours-pine-forest-and-call-me-morning/

Once we begin to pay attention in relation to this, as in so many things, our perspectives can change. As the poet Robert Frost said,

“We dance round in a ring and suppose,

But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.”

And Carl Jung reminds us that our cathedrals and the Nave of our own lovely Holy Family, are not the only sacred spaces: “Nature is not matter only. She is also spirit.”  

In recent weeks we have begun gathering on the first Wednesday of the month for a healing service in the chapel at noon. We assemble quietly for the Eucharist and the gifts offered there, yes, but to me, relationships are the main reason we gather. I have been so moved by the connections we are creating, both through the liturgy and as we break bread together after the service, with stories, laughter, and even our sacred silences. I am so very grateful for this Holy Family community. And I am grateful that some of those in attendance, unable to be present on Sunday, are able to join us.

Nature, too, understands the mutuality of shared, sacred space, and how communication occurs at levels often unseen. The author Robert Macfarlane writes that the world beneath our feet is also filled with wonder:

The term ‘mycorrhiza’ is made from the Greek words for ‘fungus’ and ‘root’. It is itself a collaboration or entanglement; and as such a reminder of how language has its own sunken system of roots and hyphae, through which meaning is shared and traded. The relationship between mycorrhizal fungi and the plants they connect is ancient – around 450 million years old – and largely one of mutualism. In the case of the tree–fungi mutualism, the fungi siphon off carbon that has been produced in the form of glucose by the trees during photosynthesis, by means of chlorophyll that the fungi do not possess. In turn, the trees obtain nutrients such as phosphorus and nitrogen that the fungi have acquired from the soil through which they grow, by means of enzymes that the trees lack il through which they grow, by means of enzymes that the trees lack.”

Several years ago, my cohort of graduate school friends read The Overstory, by Richard Powers. A deeper awareness of the life of trees is among the gifts we found in this remarkable novel:

“We found that trees could communicate, over the air and through their roots. Common sense hooted us down. We found that trees take care of each other. Collective science dismissed the idea. Outsiders discovered how seeds remember the seasons of their childhood and set buds accordingly. Outsiders discovered that trees sense the presence of other nearby life. That a tree learns to save water. That trees feed their young and synchronize their masts and bank resources and warn kin and send out signals to wasps to come and save them from attacks. “Here’s a little outsider information, and you can wait for it to be confirmed. A forest knows things. They wire themselves up underground. There are brains down there, ones our own brains aren’t shaped to see. Root plasticity, solving problems and making decisions. Fungal synapses. What else do you want to call it? Link enough trees together, and a forest grows aware.”

~Richard Powers, The Overstory

Recently I arrived at church early on Sunday morning to sit in silence before services began. I was aware of the deep layers of experience we share each morning, both in the liturgy and in the relationships shared each week. Like the trees in Powers’ novel, there is a mystery at profound levels in the coming together to worship, share grace and hospitality, and go back out into the world to love and serve the Lord, respecting the dignity of every human being. Indeed, even the smallest gestures we share having participated in the Eucharist and rejoicing in the power of the Spirit allow us to flourish, even as we inspire others to go and do likewise.

“Trees know when we are close by. The chemistry of their roots and the perfumes of their leaves pump out change when we’re near…when you feel good after a walk in the woods, it may be that certain species are bribing you…What we care for, we will grow to resemble. And what we resemble will hold us, when we are us no longer.” ― Richard Powers, The Overstory

October 20, 2024

22nd Sunday After Pentecost – Byron Tindall

They just didn’t get it, again for the umpteenth time.

Zebedee’s sons, James and John, indicate what kind of kingdom they are expecting when Jesus takes over the leadership of that kingdom. “…and they said to him, ‘Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.’”

The place of honor at a ruler’s court at that time was just to the right and left of where the ruler sat. It seems like James and John were expecting Jesus to come back as some type of political ruler or a leader who would be recognized as such by the way his court was organized.

“But Jesus said to them, ‘You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?’”

The brothers agreed that they were capable of following Jesus down that road and told him so.

About this time, the other 10 disciples got wind of the conversation that was going on between Jesus, James and John. They got a little miffed.

Jesus called the 12 to come to a meeting where he tried to explain to them that his kingdom was unlike any other kingdom ever seen on earth. They just didn’t get it.

Matthew and Luke report similar incidents in their Gospels. John makes no mention of this exchange between Jesus and his disciples. Interestingly enough, Matthew has the request to sit on either side of Jesus coming from James’s and John’s mother.

This exchange between Jesus and the 12 amounted to one of the passion announcements.

When we stop and think about it for a minute, James and John, along with Peter, are the most often mentioned of the disciples in all four of the Gospels.

We have another announcement of the Passion of Jesus earlier in Mark.

In Chapter 8, verses 30-38, Mark wrote: “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, ‘Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’

“He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.’”

This time, the main character who was confused was Peter. Peter, just like the rest of them, just didn’t get it.

The so-called passion announcements are not the only time the followers of Jesus didn’t understand what he was attempting to tell and teach his followers.

On more than one occasion in the Gospels, Jesus had to take his disciples aside to explain to them what he was saying in one of his parables. Sometimes even then they just didn’t get it.

Misunderstanding Jesus is not limited to the 12 either.

In the Third Chapter of John’s Gospel, we find the exchange between Jesus and a Pharisee named Nicodemus who was also a member of the Jewish Council.

After hearing Jesus answer his question, Nicodemus replied, “How is this possible?” After the explanation of his answer, Nicodemus once again asked, “How is this possible?” He just didn’t get it.

Using parables to get a point across can be risky, as parables can be understood on many levels at the same time. The message may not necessarily come through the same way on the different levels. People hear the same message differently.

It’s a lot like the difference between a sign and a symbol.

For those of us with drivers’ licenses, when we come to an eight-sided sign with white lettering on a red background, we know we are supposed to come to a complete stop. I have to admit, however, there are those who respond to this sign by slowing down a bit and continuing on through the intersection. These signs are supposed to mean stop, not just slow down.

I have a collection of crosses I wear, mostly on Sundays. For me, they are a symbol of my belief and faith. For others, a cross is a pretty piece of jewelry with no indication of anything else. Either meaning is acceptable.

That eight-sided sign is supposed to have a universal meaning. A cross on a chain can be understood on many levels.

But I digress a little.

In the Baptismal Covenant in the Book of Common Prayer, the celebrant and people in the congregation engage in an exchange, which goes, in part:

Celebrant: Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers ?

People: I will, with God’s help.

Celebrant: Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?

People: I will, with God’s help.

Celebrant: Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

People: I will, with God’s help.

Celebrant: Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

People: I will, with God’s help.

Celebrant: Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

People: I will, with God’s help.

The way I read and understand this, following Jesus does not just mean giving up an hour or so once a week to come together to worship him. It’s a 24/7 commitment, but sometimes we just don’t get it.

In a little over two weeks, we should exercise our right and responsibility to vote for the next President and Vice President of the United States. I’m not going to tell you for whom you should vote. I ask you to remember your commitment to follow Jesus when you mark your ballot.

The expression goes, “If you don’t vote on Tuesday, you don’t have the right to complain on Wednesday.” Sometimes, we just don’t get it.

October 16, 2024

One of the things Jung taught was that the human psyche is the mediation point for God. If God wants to speak to us, God usually speaks in words that first feel like our own thoughts. As Rohr asks, “How else could God come to us? We have to be taught how to honor and allow that, how to give it authority, and to recognize that sometimes our thoughts are God’s thoughts. Contemplation helps train such awareness in us. The dualistic or non-contemplative mind cannot imagine how both could be true at the same time. The contemplative mind sees things in wholes and not in divided parts.”

In an account written several years before his death, Jung described his early sense that ‘Nobody could rob me of the conviction that it was enjoined upon me to do what God wanted and not what I wanted. That gave me the strength to go my own way.’

As Rohr reminds us, we all must find an inner authority that we can trust that is bigger than our own. This way, we know it’s not only us thinking these thoughts. When we can trust God directly, it balances out the almost exclusive reliance on external authority (Scripture for Protestants; Tradition for Catholics). Much of what passes as religion is external to the self, top-down religion, operating from the outside in. Carl Jung wanted to teach people to honor religious symbols, but from the inside out. He wanted people to recognize those numinous voices already in our deepest depths. Without deep contact with one’s in-depth, authentic self, Jung believed one could not know God. That’s not just Jungian psychology. “Wisdom of the Women Mystics,” one among our current Christian Education classes meets Monday evenings from 7 to 8 pm. This is a women’s Christian Education class designed to acquaint us with writings from medieval Christian women who were dedicated to serving God by caring for others and by recording their insights and hopes. And they are doing the very kind of discernment Jung encouraged us to do!

The Adult Education Committee has also begun reading Richard Rohr’s Jesus’ Alternative Plan – The Sermon on the Mount. Rohr writes that Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount is “considered the blueprint for the Christian lifestyle.” Rohr believes that the “secret to understanding the Sermon on the mount is to understand what Jesus intended when he preached it.” Rohr’s goal is to “delve into the language of religion and emerge with a clearer understanding of the Sermon on the Mount, the Nazarene rabbi who preached it, and the Gospel writers, especially Matthew, who passed it on to us.” Rohr is a Franciscan priest and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation, and he, too, is engaged in the kind of spiritual discernment Jung encouraged. Similar teachers include Augustine, Thérèse of Lisieux, Lady Julian of Norwich, Meister Eckhart, and Francis of Assisi.

Wherever you are on your spiritual journey I hope you will explore both your own, inner voice, and the community of faith that is Holy Family! Options for doing so are many, and best done with companions on the way. I’ll catch you later down the trail, and I hope to see you in church!

Bill+

October 9, 2024

“Grief and loss that are not transformed, get transmitted. We need others to walk beside us during time of loss to assist us on that journey of transforming our grief.” ~ Rabbi Edwin Friedman

On Monday of this week, after a challenging session with a patient who has experienced significant losses and is doing sacred, good grief work, I recalled the words of Rabbi Friedman in a lecture at Vanderbilt. He is correct, of course. Sometimes we need to widen the circle of care, and this can take many forms. Indeed, one need not be ordained, or a licensed clinician to sit with another in that liminal space of hospitality, compassion, and relationship. After my session on Monday, I walked into the nave of the Cathedral, sat in the sacred silence, and offered a prayer for my patient and her family. When I rose from the pew and began my trek back to the counseling center, I saw the beautiful light, refracted through the stained glass of the windows, reflected on the cathedral pillars. I was comforted by this, and reminded that the sacred can take many forms, and like the Holy Spirit who can surprise us with the gift of Her presence, sometimes is there all along. And I was reminded that we do not have to do this work alone.

Among the topics I have written about during my years as a professor is “resilience,” of which Fr. Richard Rohr has said, “I believe resilience is the secular word for faith — the ability to trust and let go.” I agree, and resilience can be enhanced in relationships of care, compassion, and intentional acts of grace. We recall these lovely words from 2 Corinthians 4:7:

7But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. 8We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. 11For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. 12So death is at work in us, but life in you. 

We know that resilience, bouncing back from change, adversity, and adapting and flourishing in the “new normal,” through thoughts, behaviors, and actions can be learned, cultivated, and developed. It is an alternative to “pathology based” assessments and theory. Cultivating resilience can change our neural pathways and neurochemistry (neuroplasticity. And resilience transcends disciplines, and has applications in engineering, ecology, medicine, finance, leadership, and religion. Cultivating resilience can change mind, body, and spirit.

Resilience is often born amid adversity, as the poet David Whyte has said so well:

“Disappointment is a friend to transformation, a call to both accuracy and generosity in the assessment of our self and others, a test of sincerity and a catalyst of resilience. It is the initial meeting with the frontier of an evolving life…an invitation to reality… and the measure of our courage.”

Regardless of the source of our disappointment, grief, or loss, we often need others to sit with us in that sacred space, without needing to “fix” whatever has been broken or is hurting. The relationship is what is most important. In the next few weeks, we will be exploring the possibility of creating a Community of Hope lay pastoral care group here at Holy Family. Here’s more about COHI:

“Community of Hope International equips lay people to serve in all forms of pastoral care. Pastoral care is when a person is being “present” in a listening, compassionate, non-controlling manner to an individual or group for the purpose of consciously or unconsciously representing God to them and seeking to respond to their spiritual needs….Through ongoing, spiritual formation and practical lessons on caregiving, members learn to match theological insights and spiritual practices with their experiences of ministering to others and giving spiritual guidance. The fourteen modules used in training cover topics both theoretical and practical, ranging from teaching participants the tenets of Benedictine Spirituality to practical instruction to be used while on a pastoral care visit. It is COHI’s goal that this training awaken participants to God’s call on their lives by discovering and understanding their spiritual gifts for ministry.”  

Increasingly, dear ones, we in the Episcopal Church will need to cultivate a “lay-led, clergy-supported” ethos, with practical applications of how this might be done. I believe that COHI is one way of enhancing lay pastoral care, a topic deeply important to me. Several of you have expressed an interest in participating in this program, and there will be a COHI conference at Montreat Conference Center in 2025. Please do let me know if you have questions about this and if you are interested in learning more! We will need more persons willing to give of themselves in this way as we adjust to changes in mainline Protestantism, and in our own lovely parish.

I returned to my office at the counseling center on Monday renewed in spirit, and reminded of my own calling to a sense of joy and wonder; respect the dignity of every human being; cultivate a spirit to know and love God; have an inquiring and discerning heart; and find the courage to will and to persevere. These are qualities for which we pray in our Baptismal Covenant, and they are also faithful attributes of resilience, or faith in action! They are ways of becoming more fully alive, as we move along on our journey in faith. Transforming grief is sacred work, and best not done alone.

“Don’t ask only what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” ~ Howard Thurman

Vicky and I depart for Zurich later this week, and then on to Paris to join family there. I look forward to seeing you in church when we return on the 27th, and I’ll catch you later on down the trail.

Blessings, Bill+

October 13, 2024

21st Sunday after Pentecost – Ted Hackett

Today’s Gospel reading from Mark sounds pretty…

Well…pretty tough. Let’s look at it with some care.

As often happens…Jesus is about to hit the road…

He seems to have pretty much lived on the road with his disciples… stopping at villages along the way to preach and get food and sleep.

So today he and his gang are setting out…

And first thing…a devout young man appears, falls down on his knees in front of Jesus and beseeches him…

“Good Rabbi… “What do I have to do to have eternal life”…

Jesus scolds him:

“Don’t call me good…only God is good!”

Oops! Not a good start!

But then Jesus speaks to him in a kindly way…

“you know the ten commandments…”

And he recites three of them…

Interestingly…the three relate to how we treat each other and don’t mention God.

I’ve never known what to make of that…

But then, Jesus often baffles me…

But anyway…the young man says: “Rabbi…I have kept the Commandments all my life…”  

I doubt that anyone of us could make that claim…to have kept all ten commandments all our lives! How about never coveting a possession of a friend?

Even as a kid?

Boy! Did I ever covet Billy White’s new sled!

Wow!!!

And Jesus is impressed…

he looked at him…. and loved him…

There is something else to earn eternal life…

Sell all you have…and come follow me!

Oops!

That is a knockout punch…

The young man had many posessions…

There was no law against that…

The young man is devastated!

How would he live?

What would his friends think?

And his Father and mother?

Leave his life and his community?

It was too much to ask…

Jesus had gut-punched him…

First there was amazement…

And then an empty grief…

And he got up without looking at Jesus…

And with his head down…

He went away…

Grieving…           

And Jesus turned to his disciples and said:

“How hard it will be for those who have wealth   to enter the Kingdom of God.”                             

Throughout Christian history, lots of people have grappled with this text. Many, like St. Francis,   have taken it literally and lived lives of extreme poverty…

Others have decided to live frugally and gave away what they didn’t need for a comfortable life…

And many of us walk around with a secret guilt that we aren’t really living as Christians since we don’t sacrifice enough.

And Jesus seems to be saying that we are right…

It’s as hard for someone who has accumulated wealth and has kept it as it is for a camel to get through the eye of a needle…

In other words…not good odds.

The disciples are dumbfounded…

If that’s true…what are we doing out here on the road preaching the nearness of the Kingdom of God?

If this is true…who can make it into the Kingdom of God?   

Then Jesus adds something…

Something pretty important…

In fact…something crucially important….

“For mortals it is impossible; but not for  God. For God all things are possible.”

In other words…we cannot save ourselves…only God can do that!

So there was a reason that when Jesus quoted only certain parts of the 10 Commandments to this young man when he first showed up, kneeling at his feet.

The parts Jesus quoted were…

Don’t murder…

Don’t commit adultery…

Don’t steal…

Don’t bear false witness…

 Don’t defraud…

Honor your father and mother.

That seems to be it…that’s all he quotes…

But notice something…

Jesus has selected certain of the Commandments…

And every one that he selected is about…

How you treat other people!

Don’t murder, steal, commit adultery, bear false witness or defraud…And honor your father and mother.

And…furthermore ….Don’t make it a big deal to make yourself look good…or to take credit…

God has given you what you have so that you may enjoy God’s creation…

And so that you may love others and help them!

Remember just a little while ago..

Jesus said: “Don’t call me good…only God is good!”

What is important here is to remember that we are…after all…creatures among millions of other creatures of God…just on this earth…

And literally God only knows what other living beings there are in this incalculably large universe we inhabit.

So we live in a paradox…

We are both transient, insignificant creatures…and we are children of God.

Those are hard to keep in mind…

On one hand we are pretty helpless…

Like the disciples who suddenly realized they could not save themselves any more than they could get a camel through the eye of needle…

But then discovered that…it didn’t matter…God could…and would…save them…would open God’s kingdom to them anyway…

So much of Jesus’ teaching is about forgetting yourself and forgetting about the barriers society puts up between us…

About what we need to do to be saved…

Then asking: “What does my neighbor need”…

And then asking: “Who is my neighbor?”

When we come to that question…we have to go to some other accounts of Jesus… 

Accounts of him eating with hated tax-collectors and protecting prostitutes…

His stories about the shepherd who loves the rebellious lamb…or the rebellious Prodigal Son…

All this is to say…

The young man in our story…

Was not ready to accept a hard thing…

What we are called to do as Christians is to first understand that we are loved…

Loved in spite of….

Maybe even loved, in some strange way …

Because of our imperfections…they are part of who we are…

Loves us even in spite of our sins…

God loves us…

And knows even our sins are part of who we are…       

So God loves us…

Sins and all…

So God loves us…even when we lack…

Even when we lack a lot …

Notice…Jesus did not bring up the subject of what more the young man had to do…

But Jesus sensed the young man wanted to know the next step…

So Jesus said… “well…if and when you are ready…sell all you have and come with us…”

The young man didn’t see that he didn’t have to sell all he had,

He’d really done enough…

Jesus looked at him and loved him…

As he was!

Back in the day when I was teaching…Bishop Tutu came to teach on the Theology faculty…he was there about four years…his office was next to mine.

I stepped out into the hall to ask him a question and realized he was walking with a student…

The student was agitated…plainly upset.                              

The Bishop had been talking about poverty in the third world…and the young man was distressed that he couldn’t do anything.

The Bishop listened very sympathetically… Then smiled that miraculous smile he had, a smile that lit up the room… and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder and said:

“Don’t worry my son…you have no idea how low God’s standards are!”

There standing before me was a small black man in a purple shirt…who was…for the moment…Jesus with the rich young man …

A young man who was told: “Do your best…and don’t worry about if it’s enough…it’s fine.”

The Bishop was saying God’s grace is enough to get you over the finish line!”

And that Tutu smile that said as words could not: 

“You are fine…

God loves you as you are… The Kingdom of God is here!”    

October 6, 2024

20th Sunday after Pentecost Proper 22, Year B – Bill Harkins

The Gospel: Matthew 11:25-30 Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

In the Name of the God of Creation who loves us all, Amen. Good morning, and welcome to each of you on this Feast of St. Francis a day on which we hear a surprisingly challenging Gospel text. And, we prepare for the blessing of the animals today we also give thanks in this season for All the Saints whose lives are intertwined with ours, often in ways we cannot see.

In today’s Gospel from Matthew we are reminded that some forms of wisdom cannot be obtained by working harder and harder for them. Knowledge of God, it seems, cannot be achieved through the ordinary means of excellence of effort or dent of perseverance as we typically understand both of these. I don’t know about you, but this perspective turns my normal ways of being and doing in the world upside down. Jesus has a way of doing that, of course, but it still catches me off guard. What might it mean if through hard work and my often “type A” behavior, I am sometimes missing the point Jesus is making and, perhaps, the main purpose of our lives as Christians? Can I really reconcile this part of me with the need to become more childlike in my faith?

And then in vs. 28-30 we find the lovely invitation to which these passages have been building, “Come to me all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest… for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” It is a wonderful metaphor, really, although in our part of the world we don’t often see yokes. The principle, however, is that of bearing burdens more efficiently, to harness the power of the animal or, in some cases the person carrying the load, and work together as a team. The second century author Justin Martyr said that when Jesus worked as a carpenter, he likely made yokes as part of his daily work. I like to imagine this. It is comforting, somehow, to imagine him carefully measuring and fitting the yoke so that it would fit just right—not rub or scrape the animals—and help them bear the burden of the plow or whatever they may have been pulling. I can see him sanding the rough spots, carefully fitting the yoke, making it a perfect complement to the animal, and the task at hand. Metaphorically speaking, Jesus invites us to take a yoke just like this, made by his own labor and love, perfectly and completely for us. He knows each of us by name, knows our gifts and graces, our needs and broken places. He does not want us to be weighed down or so weary that we cannot bear what we have been called to do.

It is a beautiful, utterly simple invitation, and yet so hard to do. So often Vicky, my wife of almost 31 years, has said “Why didn’t you ask for help with this?” or, “Why didn’t you let us know what you needed?” Perhaps this is connected to the other part of this Gospel text—the part about letting go of trying so hard to do things alone, and relying solely on our own alleged wisdom and intelligence. Over-functioning, once we learn it, can be very hard to change. I confess that I do not turn things over to God, or others, easily. And, I have trouble remembering that there are others standing by ready to help. I struggle to realize that I am likely at my best, and my strongest, when I ask for God’s help. Some time ago, my ordination brother Thee and I were on the hill atop the Horseshoe Drive entrance to the Cathedral for the “drive by blessings,” after the 11:15 service. It was an unusually warm day, and at about 1:00pm we were preparing to head inside when a lone woman leading 4 dogs on leashes slowly made her way up the driveway. Thee was engaged in blessing the ashes of a dog named “Wags,” whose owner was still grieving. The woman arrived atop the Cathedral Close completely out of breath after the long climb. “I almost didn’t come today,” she said, her mascara running in the late October sun. “I live in Snellville….and it’s a long way to drive. But this is my home…this is my family,” she said, nodding to her dogs who were already greeting me effusively. I consider the Cathedral to be my home. I am so thankful for this place.” Then, introducing me to her dogs one by one, she said, “These are all rescue dogs,” patting each one in turn, lovingly, saying their names. One was blind, and mostly deaf, and another had been thrown out of a car on Hwy#78, and barely survived. “Each of these dogs has a sad story, and needed a home. It’s been a hard couple of years for me too,” she said, tearfully.” “I lost my husband, and my home. These dogs are all I have left, but we do have each other, and I am so very grateful for that. I guess the truth is we all needed a blessing today.” “Maybe,” she said, “we bless each other along the way, especially when we are grateful. Maybe those blessings are how God continues to be present in our lives. I have learned to live from a place of gratitude,” she said tearfully. “It’s the place where all of our blessings go to live.” I found the pastoral counselor in me responding with compassion for, and a bit of concern about her, and I said “It’s so warm out here. Would you like to come inside for a cold drink of water,” I asked? “No thank you,” she said. “I’m not ready to go inside yet. For now, I’ll just take my blessings where I find them. And they are right here, right now.” I had the good sense to let this be enough to say grace over, and so I did just that. I have thought about this many times since then—and in particular about blessing, and gratitude, and giving from that deep place where we are most at home. And, I have come to realize that this is one of the ways God’s Creation continues to unfold, right here, right now, every moment of our lives.

In her wonderful novel, “Gilead,” the author Marilynne Robinson tells the story of Rev. John Ames, a dying Presbyterian minister writing to his young son, so that he will remember his story long after he is gone[1]. The book takes the form of an extended letter, really, and is itself a blessing of gratitude, and the generosity borne of gratitude. In one passage he recalls blessing a cat in his early days as a young pastor. This memory leads to an especially lovely passage:

“I still remember how those warm little brows felt under the palm of my hand. Everyone has petted a cat, but to touch one like that, with the pure intention of blessing it, is a very different thing. It stays in the mind. For years we would wonder what, from a cosmic viewpoint, we had done to them. It still seems to me to be a real question. There is a reality in blessing, which I take baptism to be, primarily. It doesn’t enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is a power in that. I have felt it pass through me, so to speak. The sensation of really knowing a creature, I mean really feeling its mysterious life and your own mysterious life at the same time.”  

That day, in the process of giving and receiving blessings with my friend and colleague Thee, I lost myself in the process, and I found a new way of seeing the world—shaped by gratitude. As the wonderful poet Mary Oliver has said: “And what do I risk to tell you this, which is all I know? Love yourself. Then forget it. Then love the world.” “Practice Resurrection,” the poet Wendell Berry reminds us. Come to me all you that are weary and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Amen. [1] Robinson, Marilynne, “Gilead,” Picador Press, 2006.