Help, Thanks, Wow

A photo taken from Perth of the stunning night sky. [Pia/BBC Weather Watchers]

 One of my favourite authors, Anne Lamott, in her book Traveling Mercies says, “Here are the two best prayers I know: “Help me, help me, help me,” and “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She refined this theory in a later book, observing that the three essential prayers were, “Help”, “Thanks”, and “Wow.”

During confirmation and membership classes, I usually try to define prayer in a very open ended way, and with as broad a brush as possible …. Something like … prayer is whatever you do to put yourself in the presence of God – the Divine Presence – the Source of All Being – however you want to describe it – perhaps it is walking, perhaps it is listening to music, or painting.

Perhaps, it is when things fall apart and you feel like you can’t go on that you pray. That’s a pretty common occurrence. And you might, like the words of many of our Psalms, the songs of our faith, cry out in rage, despair, or disappointment.

That would be the “help” prayer.

Sometimes when I feel overwhelmed in my “help” prayers, I intentionally try to remember when I felt God in my life during difficult times. And sometimes, I find hope.

There is a song called Dayeinu that is sung during the Jewish holiday of Passover. The word dayeinu means roughly, “it would have been enough.”

The song, which is over 1,000 years old, is about being grateful to God for all of the gifts given to the Jewish people. It is actually in the United Church hymn book, Voices United, on page 131.

Now, like any ancient ritual, sometimes it’s a challenge to make a story relevant to younger generations. Years ago a colleague sent around a video by a singing group called the Maccabeats. They have come up with some innovative ways to teach the song to try to keep the tradition, and the story, alive.

Check out the video, and you can even sing along with the English words printed on the screen!

The Maccabeats - Dayenu - Passover - דיינו (youtube.com)

I bet those kids will remember the story after that Passover!

Dayeinu … enough. What does it mean to have enough? Does enough mean having enough just for me, or does it mean having a little bit extra to share? Or does it mean having enough to share, and even enough to store away because I don’t trust that it will be there tomorrow?

What does it mean to “be enough”? Sometimes it feels like I am bombarded with messages that tell me (and the rest of the world I suspect) that I am not enough. I am encouraged to be more, save more, do more, love more, give more.

Is it possible to have a generous heart – to be more, to love more, to give more -  but also live a theology of “Dayeinu” … “enoughness”? Can I hold both at once? These are hard questions.

Maybe that’s where the “wow” comes in … sometimes, we are stopped in our tracks … and all one can do is stand in the mystery and awe.

And say “thank you.” “It is enough.”

The internet was flooded last night with pictures from all over the world of the Northern Lights. All across Canada. As far south as Texas. And in the United Kingdom. Apparently caused by a solar storm, folks that normally don’t get to see this amazing phenomenon in the sky did.

There was a lot of “wow” last night and I suspect we will see some amazing images over the next few days.

May you be blessed, and may you be a blessing to the world this Thanksgiving.

         “But, our God, who holds the banquet, calls the whole world into freedom:

         opens up the new creation: Dayeinu!” © (1993 Stainer & Bell, Ltd. Admin. Hope Publishing Company; Onelicense 742739)

Wisdom from Inspector Gamache

I was wrong. I’m sorry. I don’t know. I need help.

Fans of author Louise Penny will recognize these as the four statements that lead to wisdom, according to Chief Inspector Armand Gamache of the Sûrité du Québec. They appear in most if not all books in the series, which is set in the lovely village of Three Pines. The statements are usually delivered at some point to a new recruit to the team.

I hadn’t read the Gamache series until I retired almost a year ago, and I needed something to distract me and help me sink into my new reality. Being a fan of mysteries, I picked up the first one and before I knew it I had plowed through all 18.

After each one I said “I will give myself a break …”. But I never did. I was hopelessly hooked. I actually learned a lot about Québec in the process. I loved the characters and their development over the course of the series. I found myself wanting to live in Three Pines. I wanted to walk to the café every morning and have coffee and croissants with the locals. And then go and browse in Myrna’s book shop.

I was reminded of Gamache’s four statements (which, we learn in one of the books, he was told by an old fisherman), when they flashed across social media a few weeks ago and I remember thinking … “imagine if politicians took that wisdom to heart.”

Imagine! I was wrong? I’m sorry? I need help?

Perhaps “I don’t know” might be a stretch for a politician (is that like “concepts of a plan”?) … but in my experience, “I don’t know” can lead to possibility and collective learning.

I can’t tell you how many times I have said “I don’t know the answer to that question” in a bible study. Actually, that’s one of the indicators that helps me to know that the session has been a success. If folks are asking questions beyond the scope of what I have prepared, or my own knowledge (which is admittedly limited, especially around biblical issues) I consider that a sign of curiosity and interest. I have done my job. I don’t consider myself a failure (well, perhaps I do for a nano-second) … but I see it as a growing edge … a question that the whole group may want to pursue.

I am acutely aware of these four statements when it comes to educating myself about systemic racism and acknowledging my own white privilege. In August I told the story in worship about my experience at a workshop I was once leading when I said something about Canadians being typically nice. One participant, an African Canadian, challenged me. “Actually, that’s not been my experience,” she said, “I don’t think Canadians are very nice.”

I was silent for a minute, and then felt kind of ashamed, and then fought back a feeling of anger and a knee jerk defensive remark. I managed to say “I’m sorry. Can you tell me more about your experience?” And she did. And it was very hard to hear, because her experience growing up in Canada as a black woman was very different than mine. And she hadn’t experienced Canadians as being stereotypically nice.

In that one incident, I learned how important it is to say

I don’t know … your experience

I need help … understanding  … and then …

I’m sorry ...

I was wrong. Canadians aren’t always nice. I continue to learn from that very humbling and extremely uncomfortable moment.

What do you think about these four statements that Inspector Gamache (and the old fisherman) said “lead to wisdom”? Stating them requires a certain vulnerability and humility. Sometimes the situation is forced upon us and we have no choice … for example a health scare for ourselves or a loved one, or when we first become parents, or a work situation presents itself. Sometimes it’s travelling to another culture.

When in your life have you made these statements and realized that they led to wisdom?

Spiritual Practice - remembering

stones with holes from the shores of Lake Huron, Southampton, Ontario

In my childhood I spent part of every summer with my family at a cottage owned by my grandmother on the shores of Lake Huron. One of the activities of the time spent there was looking for stones with holes in them. It was supposed to bring you good luck.

My grandmother had a huge collection of these stones that she had on a string in the living room of the cottage, hanging just inside the front door.

I found that some folks were good at finding stones with holes, others were not. I was not.

Hard as I tried, I could never find one. One of my younger cousins found one every time she went down to the beach. It was infuriating. One of my sons used to find them quite regularly.

I remember one time, as I was lamenting never finding one, my cousin said “the trick is, you look for the hole, not the stone.” I could never quite figure out what that meant. Then one day, walking on the beach many decades later, I thought ok, I’ll give this one more try. And I didn’t find one. I was just about ready to walk away and give up.

Then I remembered the words of my cousin. I walked a little further, took a deep breath, and looked again. I found two stones with holes that day. Since then, I have been slightly more successful at finding stones with holes, and I have my own little collection.  

Up until not that many years ago, I always thought it was a family myth that these stones had some kind of magical qualities.

But, according to the Oxford University reference site,

“One of the most widespread magic devices to protect both man and beast was a pebble with a natural hole in it, also called ‘hagstone’, ‘witch-stone’, or (in the north-east) ‘adder-stones’. They were believed to repel witchcraft, and consequently any disease caused by spells or the evil eye; in particular, they prevented hag-riding. The earliest allusion is in a 15th-century charm against nightmares …

… Small ones could be carried in the pocket or hung up over the bed; larger ones were used in stables … A variation, still known in the mid-20th century, was to hang the stone on the stable door; usually the doorkey or a bit of old chain would be attached to it, reinforcing its power with that of iron. … in Victorian times, necklaces of them were sold ‘for luck’ in Brighton … and were much worn by women of fishing families.”[1]

When I look at my small collection, I marvel at the time – at the persistence - that it must have taken for the water and sand to bore a hole right through.

I realized lately that I tend to see them now in their totality, and not with any specific story of their finding. A few actually have holes that don’t go all the way through, but there was something about the stone that drew me to it.

Each time I look at them, and hold them … I am right back on the beach. And memories comes back to me of the place … the people … the sounds and smells of the beach and the water. It seems that many of the touchstone experiences of my life happened on those shores.

Perhaps the stones do hold magical qualities. They facilitate my memories. And they invite me to stop and give thanks for all the experiences of my life that make me who I am today.

I am also aware that stones can also be used as weapons to hurt people. And stones can be used as examples or metaphors for resistance to change.

This week in worship we talk about remembering. How we remember … what we remember … and we explore the dangers of only remembering one story, which is often only our own story.

As we approach the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation on September 30, non-indigenous people are called to listen to the experiences and memories of the indigenous peoples of Canada. We are called to honour the children who never returned home and Survivors of residential schools, as well as their families and communities.

In the words of the Moderator of the United Church of Canada, the Right Rev. Dr. Carmen Landsdowne in here 2024 address to the UCC, we are called “ … to reflect, learn and to pray about the continued impact of colonial policies and governance in what we call Canada.”

What are the objects and keepsakes that help you remember? When, and how, have you learned about someone else’s experience through a sacred story or object?

[1] Holed stones - Oxford Reference

Spiritual Practice Part One

My happy place

- the shores of Lake Huron, Southampton, Ontario

 Many years ago, when my own children were younger, I offered a study for young parents called “Parenting from a Spiritual Perspective”. The study was based on a wonderful book called “In the midst of chaos: Caring for Children as Spiritual Practice.”

It could hear the collective groans when I announced the study … “you mean we have to now add spiritual practice to the busy-ness of our lives?”

But the brilliance of the book was that it articulated that in fact, most parents were already engaged in spiritual practices in their family lives – spiritual practices of storytelling, food preparation and hospitality, gratitude, play, music, and many more.

I learned that the key to spiritual practice is intentionality, and being present to the moment. I can chop carrots for the stew in a hurry and think of all the other things I have to do instead of chopping carrots, or I can chop carrots imagining the people who are going to gather around the bowls of stew, enjoying each other’s company and conversation. The latter is a spiritual practice. The first is just a chore.

When we recognize that much of what we already do can be viewed as spiritual practice, it’s just a matter of state of mind, I think that spiritual practice becomes a bit more manageable.

Author and theologian Lauren Winner grew up as an Orthodox Jew, and then converted to Christianity as an adult. Although still committed to Christianity, she says in her book “mudhouse sabbath, An Invitation to a Life of Spiritual Discipline”:

“I miss Jewish ways. I miss the rhythms and routines that drew the sacred down into the everyday. I miss Sabbaths on which I actually rested. I have even found that I miss the drudgery of keeping kosher. I miss the work these practices effected between me and God.”

In her book Winner describes some of the practices that she misses after she converted to Christianity. She says:

“This is a book about those things I miss. It is about Sabbaths and weddings and burials and prayers, rituals Jews and Christians both observe, but also rituals we observe quite differently … It is, to be blunt, about spiritual practices that Jews do better. It is, to be blunter, about Christian practices that would be enriched, that would be thicker and more vibrant, if we took a few lessons from Judaism. It is ultimately about places where Christians have some things to learn.

Jews do these things with more attention and wisdom not because they are more righteous not because God likes them better, but rather because doing, because action, sits at the center of Judaism. Practice is to Judaism what belief is to Christianity. That is not to say that Judaism doesn’t have dogma or doctrine. It is rather to say that for Jews, the essence of the thing is a doing, an action. Your faith might come and go, but your practice ought not waver.”[1]

Winner describes a number of spiritual practices that she thinks might enrich the spiritual journeys of Christians – practices like candle lighting, hospitality, fasting, aging, weddings … there are many more.

A spiritual director once asked me to make a list 20 things that bring me joy. It was at a very busy time in my life and I had a hard time getting to half a dozen. Her point was to make the list and then to be intentional about making time for those moments. In the months since I officially retired I have tried to intentionally think about that question – “what brings me joy”? And of course, it will change over time.

Here are a few for me:

Having tea, coffee or lunch with a friend

Sitting quietly and colouring a mandala

Music

Knitting while watching TV (usually … unless it is a complicated pattern that I have to pay attention to … sometimes there’s not a lot of joy in that!)

Reading … these past months it has been mystery series … Ellie Galloway, Martin Walker, Louise Penny, Rhys Dylan, Ausma Zehanat Khan

Watching episodes of Father Brown or Endeavour – no matter how many times I have seen them before. (I could probably add to this list …)

Listening to a Krista Tippet’s On Being podcast (Home | The On Being Project)

Sitting by water (BIG water like the ocean, or the Great Lakes) and beaches (see picture above)

What brings you joy, and how do you make sure you incorporate those activities into your day or week?

[1] Winner, Lauren; mudhouse sabbath, Paraclette Press; 2007; p.viii-ix

Old Stories, New Stories, Our Stories

Did you hear the story about Eutychus, in the book of Acts? He is the youth who fell out of a third story open window late one night while listening to one of the apostle Paul’s very long sermons. (Spoiler alert: he died, but Paul brought him back to life).

         No? How about Deborah, the wise woman who counseled many while she sat under a palm tree … dispensing her wisdom in the midst of the oppression of her people?

         Or, what about the five daughters of Zelophehad, who successfully challenged an unjust law in the highest courts of the land so that they could inherit their father’s land and carry on the family name?

         Some of you may have heard the great Louis Armstrong singing “Shadrac, Meshach and Abednego” (check out this youtube video - Louis Armstrong - Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (youtube.com) … but do you know the story from the book of Daniel, when they refused to bow down to a golden idol and ended up in the fiery furnace? (again, spoiler alert: God saved them).

         By now, you know that I love a good story. Whether it is a book, or a movie, or a family story told over the years, I think that stories make up the fabric of our lives.

         A good story helps us to tell our own story, and when we tell our own stories, we get close to our authentic selves – who we truly are in the deepest of our being. When we see ourselves in a story, or relate a story to something we notice in our own lives, we understand ourselves and the world around us a little better.

         Perhaps we notice the people today that are challenging unjust laws, and feel compassion. Or, we are reminded of the times in our own lives when we, like Jonah, have tried to run away from something that we feel we have been asked to do because it just feels too hard. Or, maybe your strong faith has moved you to perform radical acts of hospitality like Lydia did for Paul and the other apostles in the Book of Acts.

         These are just some of the 16 people you will meet in our upcoming Faith Study.

In the participant study journal, there is beautiful artwork with accompanying artists’ statements, questions for personal reflection and group conversation, and space to journal. The series is described as being about “ordinary people of faith – doing what they can with what they have to make a difference”, looking at  “16 bold stories of those often overlooked in our biblical narratives.”

         In the artist’s statement for the piece “They stood” (pictured below), Lauren Wright Pittman writes:

         “The text says the women came forward; they stood, they spoke, they questioned, and they even demanded. Any one of those actions alone is difficult for the unseen and unheard. All they wanted was to receive the inheritance of their father and to keep his name from fading. I’m sure the pain of their father’s death was potent, but they needed to be recognized, valued, and seen as human beings in order to survive.

The catalyst for this moment isn’t only the women’s strength; it also took a man in power to listen, to open his heart, to wrestle, and to offer his grasp over this patriarchal law to God. When Moses offered up his control and dared to consider a new way, God heard the voices of these women. “They are right,” God said. The old law was no longer suitable, so God made way for change. Though the laws were probably carved into stone, God shows us in this text that the law is living, breathing, adaptable, and changing.

This text invites us to come forward, to stand, to speak, to question, and to demand change when we experience injustice. When the powers in place don’t budge, that is not the end of the story. When you personally aren’t experiencing injustice, that does not mean you should bask in your comfort. For those whose voices are less valued, for those who go unseen, for those who have fought a long and continuing fight, we must breathe life into those old, tired, worn-out laws. In this image, the winds of change, the breath of God, surrounds the tent of meeting and the voice of God descends on these women, hearing their cry. New life sprouts from the ground as the law is heard afresh.”

         Some of the stories featured in the series you might have heard before, and some of the stories may be entirely new to you. I hope you can join us, in person, or by zoom, at 7 pm on Wednesday September 18 to add your voice to the conversation. Email or call the office to let us know you are coming so we’ll have the materials ready for you, or we can send them to you electronically.

Image: They Stood, Lauren Wright Pittman, Sanctified Art Study Journal, sanctifiedart.org

Visiting Martha part two

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about all my little tchotchkes (definition: a small object that is decorative rather than strictly functional) that have traveled with me and have been on display in my many offices over the years. Items that remind me of special people and moments.

And, there is also all my “Jesus stuff” – action figures, pencil toppers, a bobblehead, sticky notes, a last supper lunchbox … at home I even have a Jesus salt and pepper shaker (don’t worry – if you ever come to dinner at my place, it never appears on the table – it is strictly decorative, way up on a shelf in my home office …).

Perhaps it all seems a bit irreverent to you. Most of them are gifts. When people heard that I was fascinated by my Jesus Action Figure (mostly from a “why? Who thought this was a good idea? Who actually buys this?” perspective) … people started giving me gifts of Jesus stuff that they would come across. Hence the collection - that I really don’t know what to do with now, except write blogs about them, and sometimes bring an item to meetings for reflection.

Yesterday, we (well, mostly Dana and Jimmy) got a few posters up in my office. Posters that I have collected over the years. Many are from a curriculum that was popular about 20 years ago called Seasons of the Spirit. Every unit came with a set of posters, and each poster has information about the artist and a short reflection about the image. They were beautiful, thought provoking, and very conversational.

Many were paintings and portraits of Jesus over the years.

Just as how I reflected last week about it making sense to me that different people would imagine God in many different ways, I think that it makes sense that folks would imagine Jesus in many different ways. In fact, scholars point out that Jesus would have been a much darker skinned man than many white people in the world have pictured. So I also was intrigued to find many images of Jesus in this poster collection.

Images from many different cultures and contexts – indigenous, black, young, old, rich, or poor, or even Jesus laughing. Images through the ages.

For example, try googling “Christ of the Breadline” or “Jesus laughing”.

Part of my collection is a poster from the Student Christian Movement (SCM). For those of you that don’t know about SCM, it is a 100 year old grass led network, passionate about justice, community in diversity, and radical faith in action. SCM still exists on many campuses across Canada and the world. (see scmcanada.org)

The poster was created many years ago when the Student Christian Movement of Canada had a talented and clever artist as one of their National Directors. The poster goes through the whole alphabet, with a little cartoon and a caption for each letter, each one based on a story about Jesus. I have used the poster many times as a Bible study, especially with youth and young adults.

I even laminated and cut one poster up into puzzle pieces, and as we put the pieces together we talk about all the different stories of Jesus.

It starts out … A is for Activist … the caption says “Jesus stirred up trouble in the streets …”  B is for Black; “Jesus was from Palestine, so the odds of him looking like the blue-eyed, brown-haired guy on the wall of your Sunday School class are pretty slim.” C of course … is for Carpenter. “Jesus worked most of his life in an average Joe job.”

D … Displaced. “Jesus was a refugee. This is Jesus and his family running away to Egypt because Herod was killing all the babies.”

Many of the youth like Q … for queer positive, with the caption “Jesus liked to hang out with the marginalized and oppressed”, with a bubble near Jesus saying, “Hi, I’m Jesus, wanna go for coffee?”

In the gospel of Mark, chapter 8, Jesus asks his disciples “Who do others say I am?”, and, “Who do you say I am?” The exchange between Jesus and his disciples implies that who others say Jesus is may not always be who you say Jesus is.

We get to know Jesus by getting to know how he lived his life, who he hung out with, how he treated people, what he taught.

How do you think about Jesus? Who do you say he is? If you want some help thinking about it, drop by my office sometime.

Ask Me About - August 2, 2024

I am delighted to have the privilege of being appointed as your minister for the next year. I want to say thank you for the welcome messages I have received from folks this past week, and I look forward to meeting all of you, in person or electronically, over the next few months.

I know that in the past few years, you have looked forward to a daily reflection from your minister. I am pretty sure that I won’t be able to keep up that pace. But, I will commit to sending out at least one reflection each week during my time here.

Some thoughts and ideas might be shamelessly plagiarized (with accreditation of course) from the many blogs and theologians that I read on an ongoing basis. Or, perhaps from the Lenten Study that I wrote for the United Church of Canada in 2017 called Parables, Prayers and Promises, Some thoughts on Jesus.

Some reflections might be about the coming week’s worship theme. And some may be me sharing surprising moments of awe and wonder that I have experienced throughout the week.

        This week – I thought I might tell you a bit more about me, and who you have hired to be your minister for a year. There is some background information about my ministry and employment history in the announcement from the board. And, there is a bit of information about my family added to the general bio on the website.

But perhaps you would like to know a bit more.

My friend in Northern Ireland, when introducing himself at an event, after some very brief remarks, often said … during the break or our meal time you are free to ask me questions. He would say … you could  “ask me about the time when I met … and then he would name a famous person … ” … or “ask me about my work with …” and he might name a specific group of people – or “ask me about the time the youth group set off the fire alarm in the village.”. It immediately created a curiosity, and a desire for more information.

So for me, for example, you could …

        … ask me about the time I spent three months at the Corrymeela Peace and Reconciliation Centre in Northern Ireland, and the 10 return trips that I did with university students and church folks.

Or, perhaps you might want to ask me about why I take the stairs one at a time … and I will tell you a little about my catastrophic injury 9 years ago in my St. John’s office that ruptured my Achilles tendon, caused me to be in a cast for 8 months, and resulted in 2 surgeries.  Or … perhaps you even might want to ask me about the time many years ago when I was in a band singing Irish songs throughout the Maritimes[MM1] . (That’s one of my two truths and a lie statements!)

Or … one of my favourite topics, “ask me about the GO Project, a United Church youth program. (Spoiler: my daughter Alana Martin, also a Diaconal Minister, is the lead staff to this program.)

        I am happy to fill in the details in our conversations later. In the meantime, here a few things to know about me as we begin our journey.

Number 1:

        I am a Diaconal Minister in the United Church of Canada. Many of you might ask … what exactly is a Diaconal Minister? We get that a lot.

        In the United Church of Canada, there is one Order of Ministry with two streams of ministers – Ordained ministers, and Diaconal ministers. Where ordained ministers are ordained to the ministry of word, sacrament and pastoral care, diaconal ministers are commissioned to the ministry of education, service and pastoral care. However, most members of the order of ministry in reality are involved in all of the aspects of ministry.

The training for diaconal ministry is quite different from ordained ministry, in that it focuses more deeply on an action/reflection model, and in the areas of education, justice and pastoral care.

Number 2:

Although I have lived over 45 years in Halifax, Nova Scotia, I actually grew up in Toronto. I came to Toronto in 1977 – that part relates to the question about singing Irish songs with the band. I still have family and good friends in Ontario that I try to visit when I can.

Number 3:

I like to refer to movies, books, songs, poems, paintings, TV shows, news articles … pop culture in general, in my sermons and studies. I don’t believe that as Christians we can make sense of our ancient story unless we can apply it to our everyday lives – and most of us are consumers of the culture around us in some way.

I began to do this very early in my career – working with youth and young adults, and in university chaplaincy. I find that culture helps us connect with the biblical story in new ways.

And finally, Number 4:

    An important focus in my personal life and in my ministry recently is about

discovering how I can be part of (in the words of a decades old United Church of Canada resource), “mending the world” … and how to best walk in solidarity with marginalized folks in our communities. For example, people with disabilities, racialized people, indigenous peoples, or the LGBTQIA2S community to name just a few.

Especially in the past few years, I have learned that this means continuously understanding and confronting my own white privilege, unpacking the baggage and biases of my own history, and naming racism, ableism, classism, and homophophia.

It usually means a lot of listening, and often sitting in a place of discomfort for a time.

I am on a learning curve with this one and I am always looking for companions to do this work, and learn, with me. It is not easy work. I know that this congregation is already doing some of this work, and I look forward to walking with you as we worship, plan and grow together over the next year.

I love to share ideas, and firmly believe that conversation and deep listening enhances understanding and relationships. Please do not hesitate to contact me if you would like to meet – (and ask me questions! …) either by phone, email or in person.

Changing Seasons - August 9, 2024

This past week when I was in the office I asked Dana and Glen for ideas about what to write my weekly reflection about. “What about the changing seasons?” offered Glen. He proceeded to describe all the changes in Bethany’s garden that he sees on a daily basis and how much he delights in watching it each day.

        All I could think of was what a horrible gardener I am.

        I tried for many years to be a successful gardener. Perhaps I didn’t have the patience, or the time, to really give it what it needed. I don’t remember ever having much success, even with house plants.

        My spouse took it up when he retired about 10 years ago. And this summer is the first summer in 5 years I have actually been around to enjoy his efforts. He is the first to tell you that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Each year he buys a selection of plants that he likes and recognizes, and what he thinks will work, paying attention to the little tags that tell you how much sunlight and water each plant needs. And then he puts them all together in containers of many different sizes and shapes and distributes them around the yard. There is no pattern. No overall plan.

And then he patiently cares for them all throughout the summer.

        We have a very small city back yard. These days it is a riot of colour as the flowers continue to bloom and spread all around the perimeter. And I just sit back and enjoy the view. And marvel at the diversity and randomness of it all. And it’s true – every day I see something different.

This is a picture of a place called The Burren in County Clare in the west of Ireland. It consists of about 250 square kilometers, known as a karst landscape, which means that it is formed from the dissolution of soluble rocks such as limestone and gypsum, and is characterized by underground drainage systems with sinkholes and caves. It comes from the Irish word boireann, which means a rocky place. It is often referred to as “fertile rock”, because of its mixture of herb and floral species.

        I visited The Burren in 2015. I really didn’t know what I was looking at until I did a bit of research on the internet. In fact, this is the largest and most accessible karst region in the world, and the only place on the planet that Artic, Mediterranean and Alpine plants grow side by side.

In this environment, acid loving and lime loving plants grow adjacent to one another and woodland plants grow out in the open with not a tree nearby to provide shade from the sun. All this, in a land that appears to be composed entirely of rock.

I do remember our tour guide telling us that, and also that the reason there was such a diversity of plants is because of the migration of birds, and the seeds contained in their droppings.

        It’s a very popular tourist area in Ireland, and it is also becoming very big in the area of ecotourism. There is also a diversity of small animals and other animals, insects and butterflies. There are many wedge tombs and megalithic tombs in the area, proving that people have been living in The Burren for 5,000 years.

        If you are curious, you can find lots more information about it if you google The Burren. You will find lots of pictures, videos and information.

        The Burren always reminds me that God’s world is unpredictable, and uncontrollable, and full of surprises. It reminds me that creation often has the ability to adapt to its surroundings, and that it is also a place where everything changes, and everything belongs. And that is good news. For everyone.

Visiting Martha - August 16, 2024

The Celts talk about “thin places” … places where the veil between the real world and the “other” world are thin. Places that go beyond what your five senses can feel.

Perhaps we might say that they are places where God breaks through … or, where we allow ourselves to experience God breaking through. Sometimes I have heard these times referred to as “God moments.”

Some congregations actually offer times in the weekly worship service when folks are invited to come forward and share these God moments with the rest of the faith community. Times during the week when they have felt God, or Holy Mystery … moments of awe and wonder, in the past week. Perhaps it was a moment of deep connection with someone. Or a moment of stillness watching a sunrise or sunset. Or, a moment of deep joy when you heard children laughing.

Sometimes, I need a little help remembering all the God moments in my life. I am blessed – there have been many.  This help often comes in the form of objects that remind me of those times. Times when I have felt close to God. Times when I knew that the Spirit was moving in my life, even though I might not have recognized it at the time.

The object is a reminder to me to try to move into the unknown, even when it is uncomfortable. And that God is always surprising us.

When I start bringing my “stuff” into my office next week … (my newly painted, newly carpeted office, thanks to a wonderful team of folks who have worked diligently over the past couple of weeks to make that happen!) … you will see an eclectic collection of random objects scattered about.

Objects that remind me of communities and people in my life, of God moments and thin places. They remind me that we carry our experiences with us wherever we go.   

I am happy to tell you about any of them … but here are a few of the things you might see.

Pictures of the groups that have accompanied me to the Corrymeela Peace and

Reconciliation Centre, Ireland’s oldest peace centre, in the past 10 years.

My Jesus Action figure. I’ve had him since my early days as a Chaplain at Mount Saint Vincent University, and he has traveled with me many times. His only official tricks are that he glides and blesses – which, if you can only do two things, gliding and blessing are pretty much right up there. Close companion is the Jesus Bobblehead. And my prized possession, my Last Supper Lunchbox.

A collection of rocks. Some came from Lake Huron, a place where I spent many summers in my early years and still visit. Included are my small collection of rocks with holes in the centre, and my heart shaped rocks that I have found or was given over the years.                                                          

Two birds. The coloured one is from Solintename, Nicaragua. I bought it when I was in Managua, Nicaragua in 1997 with my class from the Centre for Christian Studies. The Gospels in Solintename are four volumes of transcripts of bible studies in the early years of the Nicaraguan Revolution. They document the liberation that comes with community engagement, conversation, and the stories of Jesus.

The little white bird is from my spouse Pat, from New Orleans.  Part of the BirdProject, it came encased in black soap, also shaped like a bird, made from Louisiana Clay. As the soap is used, eventually the ceramic bird inside is freed – a symbol of restoration and recovery from an oil spill disaster. This also reminds me of the power within, and how we all need the help of others to be restored and whole. It also has a bit of a chip on its beak. That happened in my hurry to free the bird from the soap. It reminds me that sometimes we often have scars, bumps and bruises from our experiences. It’s who we are.

A wooden painted cross from El Salvador which I bought at Phoenix Rising, an international interfaith university chaplains’ conference in Vancouver in 2000. I am not usually drawn to a cross as a symbol of my faith, but these beautifully painted crosses from Central America, with scenes of people and landscapes, and community, are symbols of life.

My hand made prayer beads, which a colleague and close friend taught me to make, and which I have in turn taught other groups how to make 

A finger labyrinth, which reminds me of life’s journey, with all its twists and turns.

These items have traveled with me over the past 35 years, sometimes spread out between 2 or even 3 offices. They traveled to Toronto and back. I wasn’t sure what to do with them when I looked at them last fall when I unpacked. It appears that they will have another home for the next year.

What helps you to remember the “God moments” in your life?

How do you describe God? - August 30, 2024

The Seeker, Mike Moyer, Art in the Christian Tradition

Some of you may have noticed that since I have been at Bethany I have begun the Lord’s Prayer by saying “Our Mother, Our Father …”. At my previous pastoral charge, we said, “Our Creator” … which I had inherited from my predecessor.

At the back of Voices United, there are several versions of the Lord’s Prayer. There are also a number of translations, including French, Japanese, Taiwanese, Cree, Korean and Chinese, and one paraphrase from New Zealand which begins: “Eternal Spirit, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver, Source of all that is and that shall be … Father and Mother of us all, Loving God, in whom is heaven:”

I believe that it is important to use different images of God in our prayers, especially for children as their understandings of God are forming. In Genesis 1, it says that humankind was created in God’s image. To me, that means all humankind, not just males.

It’s true that Jesus described God as a father. Actually, the translation of the word he used is more accurately translated as the more intimate word “daddy”. But I don’t think that he meant that we were to only use that one image, that one concept forever and always. Jesus was trying to make an overwhelming concept a bit more understandable. If we only use one image, we may get stuck. And for some, the image of a father might not be particularly comforting, or relatable.

In fact, the bible is rich with different images of God, of people describing a mystery which is in the end, indescribable. Each image tells us something about how the writer understood the nature of God.

In Psalm 23, God is compared to a shepherd. Jesus compares God to a woman searching for a lost coin in Luke 15:8-10. (image pictured above). In the book of Hosea, chapter 13:7-8, God is compared to a lion, a leopard, and a protective mother bear.

In Deuteronomy 32:11-12, God is compared to an eagle protecting its young, teaching them and guiding them. In Genesis 1:2, God is the wind that swept over the face of the waters. And in Jeremiah 18:6, God is a potter and Israel is clay in the potter’s hand.

The bible also describes God in more abstract terms, such as:

In Proverbs 1:20, wisdom cries out in the street. 1 John 4:11 says God is love.

And we hear in Psalm 27:1 that God is my light.

All of these images help us understand the great mystery that we call God. Sometimes, we need different images at different times in our lives.

One of my favourite children’s books is by Rabbi Sandy Eisenberg Sasso called In God’s Name. It begins by saying that in the beginning everyone had a name, but no one knew the name for God. So each person searched for a name for God. The farmer called God Source of Life. The soldier called God Maker of Peace. The artist called God My Rock. The woman who cared for the sick called God Healer. You get the picture. When they look in God’s mirror, they see everyone reflected, and realize that all the names for God are good, and one name is not better than the other.

How do you describe God

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The Theology of Abundance - August 23, 2024

Jesus multiplies the loaves and fishes; Art in the Christian Tradition; Vanderbilt Divinity Library; JESUS MAFA is a response to the New Testament readings by a Christian community in Cameroon, Africa

The story of Jesus feeding of the 5,000 is the only miracle story that is found in all four gospel accounts. It is a story that tells how Jesus helped a community move from holding a myth of scarcity to a theology of abundance. When it didn’t seem like there was enough food to feed the crowd of people that had gathered, Jesus showed them that in fact, they had plenty. Even enough to have leftovers.

I grew up in a house that didn’t have a lot of unplanned company. We would have to ask days, if not weeks, in advance if we wanted to have someone stay for dinner. It wasn’t that my parents didn’t entertain, because they did, a lot. But it was always planned. To be fair, that was the model in which my mother grew up … quite formal and not much happened by chance.

So it was an absolute marvel to me when I joined the Martin family and every Sunday I would watch my mother-in-law stretch a meal she had made for 6 into one that would feed double that number. They lived in the country, and folks would be out for a Sunday drive, and they would drop in for a visit. And of course they would be asked to stay for dinner. And somehow, there was always enough food.

Eric Law, in his book Holy Currencies – 6 Blessings for Sustainable Missional Ministries, tells a wonderful story about his own family meals growing up. He writes:

“When I was a child, my family always had guests for dinner. On any given night, there might be twelve to 15 people at the dinner table. Dinner was a time of joyful sharing of food and stories. I thought we were quite wealthy, feeding so many people every night. Only when I was older, while talking to my mother about the good old days, did I find out that we were not rich at all. My mother told me that some days she only had three dollars to feed fifteen people. How could that be? I could not remember a day when there was not enough food!

… Not only was everyone around the table filled every night, there were always leftovers. I believe the way we dealt with the leftovers at the dinner table is indicative of how this miracle of doing “more with less” was accomplished.

Toward the end of the dinner, there was always something left on a plate in the middle of the table. Everyone would be staring at it, especially when it was a piece of meat, which was an occasional, special treat. But no one would make a move to take it. Then someone would say, “Why don’t you take it Grandma? You are the oldest?” But my grandma would say, “No, I’ve been eating this stuff all my life. Give it to the little one. He’s the youngest and needs the nourishment to grow up to be big and strong.”

Now all eyes were on me, who was the youngest. But I, who also learned this ritual, would say, “No, not me. I am completely full because I have the smallest stomach. Give it to my older brother. He has an examination at school tomorrow. He needs it so he can do well.” My oldest brother would say, “No, not me. Give it to my sister. She has a piano lesson tomorrow …” The ritual would go on around the table; each person would find an excuse not to take the leftover piece of food.

While we offered it to each other, we also affirmed each other’s worthiness in the family. As a result, the piece of meat would sit in the middle of the table, destined to be left over, to be transformed into a new delicious dish the next day.

The leftovers became a symbol of our appreciation of each other’s worth. This leftover piece of food became a sign of the abundance we shared – we can do more with less.

… The spirituality I learned at my dinner table begins with the assumption that there is enough and therefore it is okay to have less than the other. By insisting on having less than the other – “No, not me; let someone else have this” – we kept the blessing flowing in the form of the affirmation of each other’s worth. The dynamics of passing the “leftover” around, generating a spirit of appreciation and affirmation, did so much more than fighting over the last piece of meat, as a fear-of-scarcity minded group would do.”[1]

When we are able to challenge the myths of scarcity in our own lives, surprising things can happen. The spirituality of abundance also leads to a spirituality of generosity.

Where do you see people living out of a myth of scarcity? How might the practice of “passing the leftovers around” help us to to adopt a theology of abundance - in our own lives, in this faith community, and in the world?

Art in the Christian Tradition; Vanderbilt Divinity Library

[1] Holy Currencies, Law, Eric, Chalice Press, p. 14-15