lacking communion

How many times have I come to this table? How many times have I taken this bread, blessed it, broken it, and given it out? How many times have I told the story of Jesus sharing the Passover meal with his disciples in that upper room? My theology, my understanding of God, is centered around this table. My ecclesiology, my understanding of church and community, is centered around this table. I have preached sermons about this table. I have composed songs about this table. I have written fiction and poetry about this table. So I should be able to crank out a sermon for Maundy Thursday with no problem, right? But you know, it doesn't work that way. In preparation for tonight's message, I have been pondering this table, reflecting on this loaf, contemplating this cup, and I realize: I have absolutely no idea what it means.

So began my sermon for Maundy Thursday. Somehow it all came together for a message that the few who gathered there seemed to find meaningful. But how I struggled with it.

It's hard to preach on communion when you feel as if you are not in communion with the folks gathered, with the tradition, with Church, with God.

Don't get me wrong, I feel tremendously blessed to have such rich communion in my life - with my partner, with our friends, with our COMMUNity, with my family. But I just don't get that from the church or from religion these days. For years, my spirituality has been shaped around communion. So with the face of communion changing in my life, I need to figure out what that means in terms of my spirituality. Or if I even want to articulate my sense of communion in spiritual terms anymore.

Holy, Moly, some Holy things happening this Holy Week

Last week, it was Iowa, right smack dab in the middle of the country, whose highest court decided that the gay marriage ban was unjust.

Then today, Vermont's legislature became the first to legalize gay marriage with a legislative vote.

And also today, Washington DC said it would recognize all marriages - gay and straight.

In 2004, when Massachusetts became the first state to allow same-sex couples to covenant their lives together in marriage, we saw justice, at that time just a tiny trickle, rolling down.

Now, my friends, I am beginning to believe that the tiny trickle can - and will - become a mighty stream. (Amos 5:24)

I know it's still Lent, but I just cannot wait until Sunday to say, "Hallelujah!!"

time out

Sally at revgalblogpals writes:

Holy Week is almost upon us, I suspect that ordained or not, other revgal/pals calendars look a bit like mine, FULL, FULL, FULL........

Jesus was great at teaching us to take time out, even in that last week, right up to Maundy Thursday he withdrew, John's gospel tells us he hid! He hid not because he was afraid, but because he knew that he needed physical, mental and spiritual strength to get through...

So faced with a busy week:

1. What restores you physically? Sleep. After a night on-call at the hospital which included a two hour call at 3am, I am in need to physical restoration. Also yoga. And walking. And sex.

2. What strengthens you emotionally/mentally? Friendships. Genuine, engaging friendships. Friendships filled with laughter, authenticity, challenge, vulnerability, acceptance, and love. The type of friendship Dar Williams sings about in her song "Arrival":

My friends give me purple flowers and orange tea
On goosedown spilling quilts and turquoise chairs
We greet each other in a wild profusion of words
And wave farewell amidst the wonderment of air
And in the laughing times we know that we are lucky
And in the quiet times we know that we are blessed
And we will not be alone

This verse always makes me think of my friend Amy's dorm room in Brown Hall.

3. What encourages you spiritually? Friendships (see above). And interestingly, the myriad skeptical/atheist blogs I read.

4. Share a favourite poem or piece of music from the coming week. Six years ago, I wrote a hymn for Palm Sunday. You can find the text here on my old blog.

5.There may be many services for you to attend/lead over the next week, which one are you most looking forward to and why? If there aren't do you have a favourite day in Holy week if so which one is it? My theology is very eucharistic, centered around the communion table. So I LOVE Maundy Thursday. Fortunately, I will be preaching at one of the two Disciples churches in Edmonton on that evening. It will be the frist time I have presided at the communion table in months. I have been feeling so disconnected from my denomination, the wider Church, and religion in general these days - utterly lacking in communion with my tradition, despite frequent church attendance. So, this could be a homecoming of sorts. Or it could be an affirmation that I can't go home again. Or I could realize that I no longer want to call that space home. We'll see...

Mid-Lent Check-In

Sophia at RevGalBlogPals comments that "halfway through the season we have often found it very challenging to live up to our original plans" and thus issues the invitation to "check-in" on our Lenten goals or hopes with these five questions.

1. Did you give up, or take on, anything special for Lent this year?
I gave up Facebook for Lent, only allowing myself to "feast" for one-hour on the weekends. In addition, I "took up" blogging again. I have only blogged sporadically for the past year or so, and I have missed it.

2. Have you been able to stay with your original plans, or has life gotten in the way?
I have stuck with it, though at times I have really missed connecting with people through Facebook.

3. Has God had any surprising blessings for you during this Lent?
At this point, I am not too comfortable ascribing to "God" any actions with regard to my life or journey. That said, I have experienced self-awareness, learning, and, yes, blessings during this season of Lent. I realize how much time I wasted (and continue to waste) online and how Facebook can be a tool to communicate only on a superficial level. I also have discovered that the social networking site does allow me to keep in touch with a wide breadth of people from various chapters of my life, and how I can and do use the site to maintain depth in relationships. I imagine when I return to FB after this season of fasting from it, I will do so with more intentionality in my interactions with folks.

4. What is on your inner and/or outer agenda for the remainder of Lent and Holy Week?
I plan to continue to blog. I hope to make better use of email and telephone to keep in touch with loved ones far away. And I will be returning to the pulpit for three sermons during Holy Week.

5. Where do you most long to see resurrection, in your life and/or in the world, this Easter?
I long to see new life springing forth from the ground. After months of snow, a blade of grass would be worthy of sonnets and arias. On another level, I long to find a sense of renewal in my vocation. Or maybe not renewal, since I don't know that I want to return to a former calling. Perhaps I need "newal" in my sense of vocation. Also, if I am thinking about Easter in it's pre-Christian form, then I have some hopes and desires along those lines, too, with my new niece or nephew entering the world very soon. Finally, I continue to hope for and work for peace and renewal of right relations in our world.

~~~~~
So, what about you? How would you answer these questions?

wilderness

I have always envisioned the wilderness of Lent as a desert with shifting sands. But after my commute into work this morning, I am certain it is the streets of Edmonton, with shifting snows.

Temperatures dropped over 20 degrees (that's Celsius - about a 36 degree drop in Fahrenheit) last night. And it snowed. Actual snow fall was probably only a few inches, but the wind caused snowdrifts, covering sidewalks and pathways.

Normally, my walk to work takes about 40 minutes. Today, it was an hour. It wasn't just snow I was battling, but wind and slick sheets of ice under the foot of new snow.

And my route was changed. The landscape had shifted. I was thrown off-course by thigh-high piles of snow (courtesy of the snowploughs) blocking sidewalks. And paths that existed yesterday just aren't there any longer. (the photo is the exact same park I pictured yesterday, sans pathway through)

It was quite a trek. But finally, I arrived. Face chapped. Legs sore. Breathless and exhausted. And drenched with sweat.

But, at the same time, I felt empowered, triumphant, and invincible.

You see, I realized that if I can make my way. Even as familiar paths disappear and obstacles block my path, I can find my way through this wilderness. I always do.

Steaming Heap of Walking Compost

A patient received some difficult news today. The results of the various tests have come back and surgery is no longer an option. In his mind, his death is imminent.

"I'm a dead man walking," he said to me. "You're looking at a corpse, nothing but a steaming heap of walking compost."

With such vivid metaphors, he continued to express his grief, rage, frustration, and despair. "What's the point of it all? There is no point. I'm going to die. We're all going to die. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. We're born, we suffer pain and loss and rejection, and we die. You, me, everyone - all nothing but walking compost."

I couldn't help but think of the smudges on the foreheads of so many Christian people today. It's Ash Wednesday. And so many who profess the Christian faith have been marked with ashes, smudges into a cross. They have heard the uttering of the words, "Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

Death is certain. For me. For you. For the man who heard the difficult news today. But while I can empathize with him, I cannot share his present belief that this certainty of death makes life meaningless. If anything, the uncertainty of tomorrow gives me the opportunity to grasp today with passionate abandon: to love deeply, to be completely honest with myself and others, to release anger and guilt and those life-sucking bad vibes. If I am nothing but walking compost, I want to be the richest, most stable, most nutrient-filled, most purposeful biodegradation of organic matter I can possibly be.