Life as it Happens

The Importance of Being Ernest

Lady Bracknell strikes again!

Community Theater has been reborn in Allegheny County! June 20 - 22 a group of wonderful people  put together the play: "The Importance of Being Ernest". For some of the actors it was their first time on stage; some of us had a little experience with acting, and a few had been in theater for quite a while. Everyone did a great job and the three performances were well received by our audiences. We were at the Sparta Auditorium which is part of the school system - this was a special treat for me since my Dad (whose name was Ernest) went to school here. 

I do want to reject the idea that I was typecast for this role! All I can say is that it was SO MUCH FUN to boss people around on stage! Theater, of course, came out of the Church which puts on a show, called worship, every week. 30 years of doing that gives one experience I guess, in bossing people around....so, maybe there was "some" reason for my role....? Some of my favorite lines as Lady Bracknell:

When LB is pondering her nephew's invalid friend, whose illness is getting in the way of her own plans she says: Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time that Mr. Bunbury decided whether he was going to live or to die. This shillyshalling with the question is absurd.  When her daughter, Gwendolyn, runs off to meet her desired man; LB finds them and in response to Gwendolyn's announcement that she is engaged to Mr. Worthing, says, Come here. Sit down; sit down immediately! Hesitation of any kind is a sign of mental decay in the young and physical weakness in the old!

Wilde's play is a humorous criticism of the self-absorbed English society of the late 19th century. My wonderful friend, Mary Mac Shields, who has been costuming theater productions for over 30 years came from Fayetteville to build our costumes, which were stunning.  It was great to have her experience beside me as I attempted this role. I can only say that their is enormous talent here in Allegheny County. Most of the actors were people who grew up here. It was a privilege to work with them. 

 

A new resident of Allegheny County

This is a picture that a friend took last week. He and his wife were working at a house in the Roaring Gap area and this little fawn was lying near the porch. After being in touch with the animal rescue people, they decided that the mom was near by and was feeding the baby. The baby stayed there for 3-4 days. It is such a great picture of how beautiful they are. Our woods seem full of these babies right now. 

I am reading a book called Plain Living: A Quaker Path to Simplicity. The author is Catherine Whitmire.  She has compiled quotes from Quakers on various topics having to do with living simply. I am taking my time through the book as I continue to pare down my life. Of course the hardest thing for me are the things I use to make art, but I want to be regular in revisiting all that I have in terms of what is needed. Giving the clothes and other things that I do not use to our local thrift shop has become a joy. 
This is one of the quotes I am currently pondering:

Still another step toward simplicity is to refuse to live beyond our means emotionally. In a culture where whirl is king, we must understand our emotional limits. Ulcers, migraines, nervous tension, and a dozen other symptoms mark our psychic overload. We are concerned not to live beyond our means financially; why do it emotionally?  (Richard Foster, 1981)

Phenomenal Woman

Maya Angelou

1928 - 2014

In January of 2013 two friends and I drove to Boone to hear Maya Angelou speak. It was such a typical winter night in the mountains: bitterly cold winds and remnants of snow and ice everywhere. But inside the Holmes Center no one was thinking about their cold journey to get there. Even the hard seats, made for sports events, seemed comfortable. We were all "at home" with Maya that evening listening to her unmistakable voice and taking courage from her presence and words. The crowd was mostly young and from the moment she came on stage there seemed to be one purpose in her heart: encourage this "future generation" to let nothing stop them from living their dreams. 

I wish I had written down some of her words that night, but as I look back I realize that the most important thing for me was to see this woman, hear her voice, and receive her strong spirit. When she recited Phenomenal Woman, it was for every woman in the auditorium:

Now you understand

Just why my head’s not bowed. 

I don’t shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud. 

When you see me passing,

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It’s in the click of my heels, 

The bend of my hair, 

the palm of my hand, 

The need for my care. 

’Cause I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me. 

(last stanza: Phenomenal Woman)

When I think of Maya it is to remember her strength as a woman; her ability to survive her childhood, and racial prejudice. She has taught us much about how to survive when life is hard and the world is unfair. And her strength lives on. 

Out of the huts of history's shame

I rise.

Up from a past that's rooted in pain

I rise.

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear the tide.

(Still I rise: fourth stanza)

Diane Rehm interviewed Maya later in 2013 and it was wonderful to hear these two great women interacting with each other. Toward the end of the interview, Maya said, " I like you so much, Diane Rehm, and so does your audience. And I have a feeling all the time that you and I are best friends. And I know that if we lived near each other, at least, we'd see each other once a month, have a cup of coffee, a glass of wine or something..." At the end of the show Diane told Maya thank you and then added, "I love you Maya." and Maya said, "I love you Diane Rehm." 

Seems a good way to say good-bye to Maya: Thank you and we love you...

"Our Mandela"

 Jimmy Carter 

When I went to hear Jimmy Carter teach Sunday School in Plains, Georgia I was not prepared to be the one who led the opening prayer for his teaching. Because of the large number of visitors they have on the Sundays when Mr. Carter teaches, the leaders at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains have a kind of "liturgy" that they go through before Mr. Carter enters the sanctuary. The woman who runs the show is Jan Williams, a former school teacher...with perhaps a bit of drill sergeant mixed in! She is tough and of course it doesn't hurt to be backed up by the Secret Service. There were 5 of us who traveled from Sparta, NC to hear Mr. Carter. One of our group somehow managed to meet Jan on Saturday while we were visiting Plains and touring the Carter homestead. She told Jan about our little group of 5 who had traveled for a day to be in Plains. On Sunday morning after being cleared by the Secret Service we entered the sanctuary. Miss Jan who was already into her crowd "warm up" saw us and motioned us down front where she had seats on the second pew saved for us. As part of her instructions to the over 200 people who came to hear Mr. Carter she told us that he would ask any who were ministers (active or retired) to stand and introduce ourselves. "BUT", she said, "if you do that be prepared to pray, because Mr. Carter will ask one of you to pray." 

After all the ministers had introduced themselves, given their church affiliation and where they lived and worked; Mr. Carter turned and faced me and asked me to pray. It was quite an honor to pray for this wonderful man who then led us in a grace filled study of the Prodigal Son. I have since learned that Mr. Carter almost always asks a woman pastor to pray. 

A good place to begin understanding why Carter does this is in his new book pictured above. Jimmy Carter was raised in the Southern Baptist Church - a Church which has consistently voted "no" to the ordination of women. In 2000 the Southern Baptist Convention took official action which made it clear that women would no longer be able to serve as deacons, pastors, or chaplains. Rosalynn and Jimmy Carter decided to end their relationship with the denomination. They chose to remain part of their local church where a substantial number of members supported the ministry of women. Mr. Carter spends the first several chapters of this book helping us understand his own view of the equality of women.  In these chapters Mr. Carter offers his own reflections and study of scripture regarding gender equality. It is an engaging and entertaining account. For me, however, the heart of this book is found in the other 15 chapters of the book. In those chapters Carter shows how women have been, and still are victims of abusive power, war and violence. His writing is a place to begin as we talk about the effects of gender inequality. 

We are making progress in how women are treated but  a recent news story shows us how much more progress we need to make.  A month ago 230 Nigerian school girls were abducted by the ultra radical Islamic terrorist group Boko Haram. Reports say that the terrorists are sharing the girls, conducting mass marriages and selling these young girls. The misinterpretation of the Koran by these fundamentalists is tragic beyond words. Pointing fingers at "those terrorists over there" does little to help these girls. The misinterpretation of all of our sacred writings (Koran, Bible, Torah) have always led to oppression, slavery and degradation of humanity. Raising our awareness to see how easily this happens in every culture gives a chance for human dignity to happen. Until we can honor the image of God in every human we will have no peace. 

A friend recently called Jimmy Carter, "our Mandela". After reading this book I realize why she said this. In his own quiet and humble way Jimmy Carter has offered "freedom" to so many through his teaching and the work of the Carter Foundation in Atlanta. You will be amazed, as I was, at how much this lovely man of God has done with the gifts God has given him. 

Death as a Penalty

After three days of intense fog and rain the sun came out yesterday and I saw my first red bud tree blooming. Bella and I were on our usual morning walk through our little part of this mountain paradise when the vibrant purple color of the blooming red bud caught my eye.

I was in Wilmington, NC last weekend for a party honoring my dear sister/friend, Blair. Blair and her partner Inza, have just had their backyard garden redone and have planted three red bud trees across the width of the garden. They had already bloomed and the leaves were out. A friend had framed a beautiful gate with a wooden arch made from an African wood called "jarrah". It all blends together for a picture perfect view from their deck where 40 or so friends gathered for great food and conversation. For me this event was a slice of the richness of relationships that Blair has shared with me over 30 years of friendship. It was an evening to be remembered for a long time.

I have been reading a little booklet by Ghandi called, "The Message of Jesus Christ". Ghandi admired Jesus very much and believed that his teaching in the Sermon on the Mount was the essence of Jesus' teaching. Ghandi was influenced by the message of non retaliation and non resistance to evil found in Jesus' teaching. That the message of this "Prince of Peace" was so distorted by Christianity in the west was painful to Ghandi.

I was reminded of Ghandi's words this week as I read about another botched "death penalty execution" in Oklahoma this week. I first heard it reported on the BBC news and could hear the incredulity of the British reporters as they reported the torturous process of the killing of Clayton Lockett. Tortured to death would be an accurate description. Some are saying that he got what he deserved...he tortured a young woman to her death and therefore..."an eye for an eye"(Leviticus). But Jesus' teaching in the Sermon on the Mount reversed that part of the Levitical law: "You have heard it said, 'eye for eye and tooth for tooth', but I tell you do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn the other also..." I will be honest with you that the depth of this one statement of Jesus is hard to understand and more importantly hard to live, but the kind of retaliation that the death penalty shows is hard to fit into Jesus' teaching here.  The death penalty is not working as a deterrent to crime in our Western civilization and the fact that we are one of only a few nations that still has the death penalty certainly gives me pause. I wonder what the world sees of our "Christian nation" in this latest story of death as a penalty.

In one of his writings Ghandi said that "if Christians wanted people to feel the 'aroma of Christianity' they must copy the rose which irresistibly drew people to itself. A rose does not need to preach. It simply spreads its fragrance. The fragrance is its own sermon." This is a reminder for me of the teaching of St. Francis who said, "Preach the gospel and if you must, use words."

Easter Brings Spring

It felt like Easter Day brought Spring to the mountains. Holy Week was cold and cloudy...it was 25 degrees one morning...and then on Sunday we had a beautiful sunrise and a gorgeous day of sunshine and warmth. The daffodils that had been afraid to bloom have suddenly shown their happy faces. The Hostas are finally peeking up through the soil and I am finally able to put my Dalia tubers in the ground.

I participated in some of the Holy Week services at Christ Church. Preaching on Maundy Thursday and at the Easter Sunrise service gave me plenty to think about. The sunrise service was so much fun. Beginning in the Memorial Garden at 6 am we had a fire to light the Paschal Candle with Christ's new light. We processed the light into the church, brought up the lights there to reveal the lilies and white hangings...no more penitential purple or blood red passion. At the end of the service we processed the "light of Christ" back out into the world as the sun rose over the mountains. We startled the horses and cows around us by proclaiming loudly: "Alleluia, Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia." 

As sometimes happens, I was convicted by my own preaching on Maundy Thursday. This service, which commemorates the Last Supper and institution of the Eucharist, is so full of symbolism that it is easy to forget what it is about. The Eucharist and the washing of feet as a symbol of Christ calling us to be servants to one another often take the forefront. But the primary focus is the mandate that Jesus gives on this night. Maundy comes from the Latin word for mandate. Jesus gives us a new mandate, a new commandment on this night before he is put to death: 

^“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. 

Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another." 

Everything Jesus does on this night is consistent with what he has taught for 3 years. He responds with love in all the awfulness of  this night's betrayal and misery. One of the most powerful realizations of this night for me was the way that my heart neglects the mandatory commandment of love. I can't say that I hate anyone but my harsh judgments of others feel less than loving. As I said in my sermon, "Love is such a beautiful word..." But doing this love - the love which Jesus showed and taught - well, that's a battle that rages within me and I suspect most of us day by day. 

Jesus didn't just give the "new mandate" he acted it out in front of us. He gave up his right to be the honored guest and assumed the role of servant. The disciples who were at table with him acknowledged their neediness and let Jesus feed them and then they went forth to feed others because they had seen their neediness and been fed. I'm not talking about feeding in the evangelical sense; of course the disciples "fed" others by teaching them Jesus' teachings. But the disciples also did not judge those who came to them hungry and homeless. They organized house churches where widows and orphans; homeless and outcasts could be fed. 

Maundy Thursday left me with a conviction about my own heart and my own actions but it also left me wondering if the Christian Church has forgotten this "mandatory love". It seems to me that we spend a lot of time arguing about "the rightness of what we believe" and little time being a servant to others. We want "our way" to be honored and when it's not we label "those others" as "unbelievers". We have spent so much time over the past 2 decades arguing about sex and marriage that "homeless and hungry" in this country is epidemic. Where is the greatest energy of the Church spent? Why do we separate ourselves from one another over the "little issues" when we can work together to do love? My heart tells me that until we really "do love" with one another the Church will continue to decline and divide into little sects of "like minded" people who do little.  

But to end on a more upbeat note...here is a picture of little Aida Quinn. She and her mom, Jill, and her "Oma" Pat came to see us on Saturday. Jill and Aida are here visiting from Alaska and isn't she a beauty? She will be 2 years old in October.  As I helped her down the step in front of the house, I heard a tiny voice say, "Dank Ou".  Yep, she has impeccable manners!  

Aida

Blessed Holy Week

The glass piece above hangs in a window in my living room. It was made by two friends who just celebrated their one year anniversary. When the afternoon sun comes in through this window I think about that service of blessing for these two men. As the colors spill across the floor and furniture of the living room I still feel the warmth of the Spirit which was so present in their commitment to each other. It was a holy moment; full to the brim with all the joy, peace and love that God's Spirit brings. 

Our Holy Week here in the mountains has been weather filled so far! The colors of the glass are longing for some sun to revive them. Last night the wind roared around us as I walked Bella in my heavy winter coat. The trees were frantic in their fight against the wind reminding me that sometimes "holy" is harsh and wild. The silent colors in the stained glass remind me that something dark is coming. This is a "holy" week - the drama of my faith awaits me. The Triduum, (the Great Three Days) begins tomorrow and we will feast, then sorrow and wait until we can once more celebrate the Resurrection. 

Br. Geoffrey Tristram, SSJE was the writer for the daily meditation from The Society of St. John the Evangelist on Monday. He quoted the spiritual writer Ida Goerres saying that 

"...coming to Holy Week is like approaching a great waterfall with an empty cup in your hand that you long to fill up with water. If you put the cup right into the middle it will likely be dashed away. It is better to aim for one small part of the waterfall, perhaps on the edge, one particular trickle of water, and full up your cup there."

It's true. It is like entering the stained glass piece that hangs in my window. Sometimes I am captivated by one color, or the design or the bevels on the clear glass. The light from the piece is never the same because the sun is always at a slightly different angle on our journey around it. My spiritual journey is hardly the same from year to year as I allow the passion story to penetrate my soul. So I am touched in ways that are new each time. Where will my cup of water come from this year? And yours also....what will fill your cup?

Being Healed...

Altar at Christ Church

Wednesday evening - Healing Service

On Wednesday evening 21 folks got together at Christ Church in Sparta for a service of healing prayers and Holy Eucharist. It was my joy to get to plan this service with some very gifted musicians. The stimulation for the service was listening to a CD done by Mark and Julee Weems, Healing at the Roots: Songs of Renewal, produced by Little Windows. One of their arrangements is a John Michael Talbot song called, Healer of My Soul. 

There is no doubt in my mind that God is a healing God. From the moment in Genesis when God stitches clothes for Adam and Eve to wear after they have been exiled from the garden, it seems clear to me that God is mending us...joining the fragmented ends of our lives, our soul and spirit. There are so many things that chip away at us, leaving splinters. Illness is just one of those "realities of life" that knocks up against us. Perhaps that is why many of the words used for healing in scripture carry a depth of meaning. God is revealed to the Israelites saying, "I am the Lord God who heals you" (Exodus 15:26) The writer uses the word RAPHAH (phonetic spelling of Hebrew) which not only means heal but to make whole, to stitch back together. 

There are many questions surrounding God's healing and I think the reason for that is that we don't understand God or God's love. I don't pretend to know God's mind except for that which God has revealed in the lives of those great saints who have left us testimony, in scripture and in their writings. It seems clear to me that God's love is beyond anything we can understand. Isaiah says that we are "inscribed on the palm of God's hand". (Isaiah 49:17) "Can a mother forget the child she has bore in her womb or suckled at her breast? It is doubtful, concludes Isaiah but even if this should happen, God will "continually" remember you. We are remembered and we are loved and because of these things we can open ourselves to God's healing.

I know James Taylor is not considered a saint (except, perhaps in North Carolina) but there is some wisdom for us in his song, Secret of Life (Live):

The secret of love is opening up your heart.

It's okay to feel afraid, but don't let it stand in your way.

It is hard to lean into love even when we can see the person we love. There are so many hurts in love. Loving God and leaning into that love so that we can open ourselves up to healing and mending is a process we grow into. Trusting God to do in our lives that mending which is most important at the moment is not easy. I can tell you this from experience... I want parts of my body that are wearing out to be restored, but it seems that the greater need for me last week was in the realm of mending and integrating my life in this new "phase" of retirement. I accept that as I continue to pray the words of Healer of My Soul:

Healer of my soul. heal me at even'

Heal me at morning, heal me at noon

Healer of my Soul.