Showing posts with label Practices. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Practices. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Grandpa's Gaze

My grandpa does this thing when I visit with him that I never really noticed until recently.

When there is a pause in conversation and I begin to glance around the room, when I look back at him, he smiles.

While I look for the next topic to discuss, he has not removed his eyes from me. His gaze warms my heart…but also has me wondering, what in the world is he staring at me for?

Do I have something on my face?

Is he wondering what he is going to have for supper?

Or is he contemplating me the way a grandfather does of a grandson, admiring who I am as a person because of who he is as one?

Regardless the reason behind it, it is a feeling I find comforting. His brief smile when our eyes reconnect is a type of blessing for me. It is as if he is saying, “I’m proud of you, grandson.”

He gets it. He understands the importance of being present.

The same cannot be said when I am with my friends.

Not because we don’t think the world of each other, but because, we are less present with one another.

When I’m with my grandpa, the only competition I have is age and the effect it has on ears that are 92 years old.

With my friends or other members of my family we are very distracted. Most of us have our cell phones on the table waiting for it to flash, ding, or buzz. And when it isn’t flashing, dinging, or buzzing, we have a tendency to pick up our phones, gazing into the lights the way my grandfather gazes at his grandsons, hoping to connect with someone something.

I wonder, how much do we miss because of technology?

As I caught myself doing this at lunch last week, I did a little research and Googled statistics about phone use.

Here is a stat I found in a Time Magazine article that overwhelms me but doesn’t surprise me:  The average person looks at his or her phone 46 times every day.[1] The article goes on to say, “Although 46 checks per day is the average, that number varies depending on users’ age group. Those between the ages of 18 and 24 look at their phones most often, with an average of 74 checks per day. Americans in the 25-34 age bracket look at their devices 50 times per day, and those between 35 and 44 do so 35 times each day.

Yikes.

That is a lot of unnecessary screen time.

Part of what makes Jesus so compelling is his presence with people. Granted, Jesus didn’t live in an age where he could ‘connect’ with people through a cell phone. He did, however, travel around with twelve people who were pretty demanding of his time. Jesus knew how to be with people, how to give them all of his attention, and in doing so, validated their lives and their humanness. People in the Gospels felt loved and knew they were loved by simply being with Jesus.

Perhaps you don’t have a cell phone and thus this post is irrelevant to you. Or maybe you do have a phone and you have more self-control than the average American. For that I applaud you.

For the rest of us, let’s make a promise to pay attention more to those with whom we are dining. Turn off the TV with the floating heads in the background, put aside the newspaper you always read during your meal with your spouse, and leave the cell phone in the car the next time you go out with people. Let’s promise that we will do our very best to be completely present to those we share life with.

And when there is a pause in conversation, don’t be so quick to look away or find something to say.

Instead, just be with each other, gazing at each other in a way God gazes upon us in all our humanity.

The way my grandfather gazes at me when we are together.





[1] Lisa Eadicicoo. Time. “Americans Check Their Phones 8 Billion Times A Day.” Accessed May 01, 2016.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-statement

statement

Prayer.

What is it?

How do we pray?

Are there right words to use when praying?

Today, is today a day for adoration, confession, thanksgiving, or supplication?


Who do I pray for?

Does it matter how long I pray?

Prayer.

Actually, in scripture and in the lives of the faithful, we see that prayer isn’t just one style.

Prayer of the heart may use few words or none.

All that is required needed is an attentive heart.

A heart that is attentive to the world, yes the world, around you:  locally, globally, nationally, and/or personally.

Don’t think too so much and pray.

Where do we begin? How do I begin?

How about this piece of advice:

One of my favorite writers and theologians, Thomas Merton, taught that simply walking with God is one of the surest ways of developing a life of prayer. Prayer such as this unveils the presence of God everywhere; God in the everydayness of life, in the body, in nature, and in the people we encounter.

Pray.

All occasions are opportunities for prayer:  preparing a meal, working in the garden, reading a book, taking a walk in the woods, playing with children or with your pets. Prayer is not about words or postures, though these aspects are important. Prayer is about living with a sense of God’s presence in all our lives.

Here comes a bold statement.

The real purpose of prayer…is the deepening of personal realization in love, the awareness of God (even if sometimes this awareness may among to a negative factor, a seeming ‘absence’).

Prayer then not just a formula of words, or a series of desires springing up in the heart—it is the orientation of our whole body, mind, and spirit to God in silence, attention, and adoration.

So pray.

However you need to or want to. But you need to.

We all do.

Need help?

Think about this poem by Mary Oliver titled, “Praying.”
“Praying

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.”

Prayer.

By reading this, you’ve already done it.


Be well.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Sneaking

“We work for peace every time we exercise authority with wisdom and authentic love.”
― Jean Vanier, Finding Peace

Last night after our Taize service, I found myself unable to leave the chapel. For about 20 minutes after the last person who walked through the chapel doors left, I sat in the dark with only candles burning, listening, being still, and praying.

At first I didn’t know what to pray for. There was so much on my mind.

There are those in life who are in a season of transition.

There are those in life who are enduring pain and heartache.

There are those in life who are battling with all their might an illness:  physical, spiritual, emotional, or mental.

There are those who find their lives uprooted by injustices; by violence; by hatred; by oppression.

There are those in Baltimore.

The are those in Nepal.

There are those in the LGBTQ community.

There are those in our own pews:  you and me.

Where does prayer begin? How does prayer begin when the world is so full of hurt?

Silence.

That’s where.

A fellow pastor recently posted this prayer and today, I’ve found myself praying it over

and over

and

over...

O God,
O Spirit,
O Christ,

Help me today to listen. Even more than usual. Even more than yesterday.

Help me to listen to voices usually silenced. Help me to listen to voices I put down. Help me to listen to those who have no voice. Help me to listen to those whose voices were taken from them. Help me to listen to those who disagree with me. Help me to listen to those who call me out. Help me to listen for hidden agendas and unknown biases. Help me to listen for my own privilege sneaking out of my own voice. And most of all, help me to listen for you. Help me to listen for you in the voices of my neighbors, my friends, and my enemies. Help me listen to the ways you are calling me to action. Help me to listen to the truth, hope and love in your everlasting voice.

Help me today to listen. Even more than usual. Even more than yesterday.

Amen.

Everyone has a voice. As God’s people, I always thought we were to be the voice for the voiceless.

I realize now this isn’t the case.

We are to listen for the voices of all people. We are to help them sing their song. We are to cultivate a community where all can be hear and their stories shared.

And then, listen to them. Whether they are familiar voices or voices that cause our pulse to quicken.

Listen to the people in your lives. Truly listen. Stop and listen.

Silently listen.

And you’ll soon discover, you’ve been praying the whole time….

Monday, March 9, 2015

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Sunday Rose

I have a confession:

                                                                        I am a liturginerd.

What does that mean you ask?

Essentially it means this:  someone who is extra enthusiastic about something to do with their church life, whether that’s theology, the liturgy, or just being an exuberant Presbyterian.

One of the reasons I love being Presbyterian is that we follow the liturgical calendar. This calendar begins on the first Sunday of Advent, which normally begins in late November. A major reason why the church follows the liturgical calendar/year can be simplified down to this point:  many periods of time shape us, and most of them do not begin or end at the same time.

The civic new year is, at best, a calendrical device designed to regulate the daily affairs of people. Meanwhile, the liturgical year is the year that sets out to attune the life of the Christian to the life of Jesus, the Christ. Feminist Christian mystic Joan Chittister says, “[The liturgical year] proposes, year after year, to immerse us over and over again into the sense and substance of the Christian life until, eventually, we become what we say we are—followers of Jesus all the way to the heart of God.” The liturgical year is an adventure in human growth, an exercise in spiritual ripening.

Currently the church is smack in the middle of Lent.

Did you know this upcoming Sunday, has a different name and color to it?

The Fourth Sunday of Lent (March 18th) is called Laetare Sunday, when the church (specifically speaking the Roman Church) takes a bit of breather from Lenten practice and opens worship with the Entrance Antiphon, “Rejoice, Jerusalem … Be joyful, all who were in mourning!” – taken from Isaiah chapter 66.

Like the third Sunday of Advent ("Gaudete Sunday"), the fourth Sunday of Lent is a break in an otherwise penitential season.  The day is a day of relaxation from normal Lenten rigors; a day of hope with Easter being at last within sight. One way the church has marked this hope is by changing the paraments from purple to pink. The rose colored cloth on Laetare Sunday is a custom originating as a symbol of joy and hope in the middle of this somber season.

This Sunday could not come at more perfect time. Robins have been spotted under your feeder and I bet, if you look close enough, you can see the earth come alive again.

Resurrection is coming.

Easter is near.

That is good news.

Rejoice, friends. You’re doing good work where you are, exactly as you are.

Here is one last bit of liturginerd information for ya.

Laetare Sunday is also called “Rose Sunday” because of the papal blessing of the golden rose, a floral spray blessed by the pope and given to a notable person or institution.

I’m not the pope.

But I give you this rose because your life,

your story,

your presence

is a gift to us all.


Be well. Be rose-y. Above all, be you!
No matter what the world preaches
spring unfolds in its appointed time,
the violets open and the roses,
snow in its hour builds its shining curves,
there's the laughter of children at play,
and the wholesome sweetness of rhyme.
~Mary Oliver, No Matter What