Through Stained Glass: Advent--sing & rejoice

You can barely see it but atop the light pole is a bird.

She was pearched singing a beautiful song.

It could be heard over the children rejoicing over school letting out and the cars passing by.

I stood and listened to her sing for a while.

It was peaceful and, honestly, a nice break from the holiday music heard on the radio in my car and in the coffee shop.

There was something pure about her song. 

There was something simple. 

There was something that reminded me to stop and rejoice.

To rejoice that something beautiful is soon to happen. 

To rejoice in the good news that despite the longer nights, there is reason to sing.

And that reason is Love.

Today I heard a bird sing for the first time in a long time. Not because birds don’t sing in the winter but because I have not made time to listen to them sing.

Imagine if we took time to ponder the profundity of that which we are preparing for—the Incarnation.

God becoming flesh.

What does that mean? What does that look like now? Sure we have the words but what does that mean for our lives, now?

Imagine if we spent more time embodying the words we confess and affirm and less time…well…reciting them.

Imagine if we took a lesson from that bird singing. This bird, high above me, was being a bird and doing what a bird is supposed to do—sing.

I am a human. 

I bear the image of God. 

I am a part of the Body of Christ.

Why then am I so quick to compromise who I am for sake of conformity and comfortablity?

Sing. Rejoice. God has come near. God is drawing near. God is near.

Sing. Listen. Rejoice. Be.

Philippians 4.4-6

4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. ⁵Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. ⁶Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

Why do you sing? Why don't we sing? What causes you to rejoice? What prevents us from singing?

Caged Bird

BY MAYA ANGELOU

A free bird leaps

on the back of the wind   

and floats downstream   

till the current ends

and dips his wing

in the orange sun rays

and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks

down his narrow cage

can seldom see through

his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and   

his feet are tied

so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings   

with a fearful trill   

of things unknown   

but longed for still   

and his tune is heard   

on the distant hill   

for the caged bird   

sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze

and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees

and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn

and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams   

his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream   

his wings are clipped and his feet are tied   

so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings   

with a fearful trill   

of things unknown   

but longed for still   

and his tune is heard   

on the distant hill   

for the caged bird   

sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou, “Caged Bird” from Shaker, Why Don't You Sing? Copyright © 1983 by Maya Angelou.

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Essentially

This morning over a cup of coffee I’ve thought a lot about life.

Not necessarily “What is life’s meaning?” but more

What does it mean to live a life of meaning?

I have read a lot of Rilke lately. And Parker Palmer.

Today they spoke to each other:

“Our lives participate in the myth of eternal return:  we circle around and spiral down, never finally answering the questions “Who am I?” and “Whose am I?” but, in the words of Rilke, “living the questions” throughout our lives.”

I like this.

This idea that our lives are like the eternal cycle of the seasons does not deny the struggle or the joy, the loss or the gain, the darkness or the light, but encourages us to embrace it all—and to find in all of it opportunities for growth.

If we are to live our lives fully and well, we must learn to embrace these opportunities, to embrace the opposites of life:  to live in a creative tension between our limits and our potentials.

Essentially, we must honor our limitations in ways that do not distort our true selves, and we must trust and use our gifts in ways that fulfill the potentials God gave us.

Interesting, yea?

Doors open.

Doors close.

Perhaps when a door closes, what we need to do is, rather than pounding on the door in frustration and bitterness, we turn around and begin again. In doing, as Parker Palmer says, we welcome the largeness of life that now lies open to our souls.

The door that closed kept us from entering a room, but what now lies before us is the rest of reality.

Saying ‘yes’ to this reality is where a meaningful life is lived, I think.

Maybe then, where we need to begin, is exactly where we are.

Our lives will gain meaning once we engage life with our whole selves.  We need to embrace this journey toward the discovery of our true selves—the journey towards God.

Remember, we are here not only to transform the world but also to be transformed. We are participants in a vast communion of being, and if we open ourselves to the cycles, rhythms, and seasons of life, we can learn anew how to live in this great and gracious community of love!

Slow down today. Engage a different rhythm. Be at peace in the world. Be at peace with yourself. 

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-speak

speak

Sometimes a picture speaks a thousand words.

Pablo Picasso said this about pictures, “Every now and then one paints a picture that seems to have opened a door and serves as a stepping stone to other things.” 

The same can be said about photographs.

Like this one: 

So much is communicated in this photo.

What do you see?

What do you feel?

This image has become the image of the church for me. This is what we are to be about. This is how we are to live and be in the world. This is our mission.

While there are some of us complaining about making cakes and others about what is or isn’t love, this is happening.

A visible display of God’s love, Christ’s trust, and the Spirit’s presence captured in a simple moment between 2 people.

Beautiful.

And I want you to know this:

You

                  Yes you.

                                             Stop what you’re doing for a moment.

Listen.

                  Be still.

                                             You are loved like this.

Welcome.

                  Home.

                                             Child of God, you are enough.

Christ waits for you with arms open and with a tenderness to calm your fears.

You belong.

You are loved.

You are wanted.

You are not alone.

God loves you, exactly as you are.

Look again at the photo.

If you are hurting, let us hold you.

If you are not feeling well, let us heal you.

If you are down, lets us help you up.

If you are lost, let us walk you home.

You are not alone.

You

         Are

                  Loved.

Through Stained Glass: A Mid-Week Reflection-Street Celebration

Street Celebration

My dad loves to tell stories.

Now granted, most of them require a LOT of creativity.

Like the one about how he invented snowboarding…

In downtown Peoria…

On Marquette Street…

In the 60’s…

Oh, when you have time, ask him about his decade long reign as the checkers king of Marquette Street.

Whether or not he intends to be, my dad is a master storyteller.

As a boy I always loved it when he told stories about the block parties his neighborhood threw. While I can’t remember exactly what he said, I remember the pictures that were painted in my head. Actually, what I am probably imagining is the 4^th of July scene from the 3^rd greatest movie of all time, The Sandlot.

What I remember picturing in my head was children playing in the streets—whiffle ball or that game y’all refer to as kick-the-can (and I’m certain if you ask my dad if he played those games, he’d tell you yes and how he was the champ of those as well…)—while their parents sit in their aluminum lawn chairs catching up on the latest gossip or exchanging their best casserole recipes.

Folks would stand with Lucky Strikes hanging from their mouths and cool beverages clamped in their sweaty hands. The heat from the setting summer sun causing condensation to form on the cans. The streets would be filled with celebration and laughter, community and love. You wouldn’t be able to hear the hum from the streetlights because there was so much playing going on.

In my head, I understand why people refer to them as “the good ole days…”

This past Saturday, the stories I was told as a boy came to life as we at First Presbyterian Church had a block party of sorts. Now, despite the unexpected thunderstorms that rolled across Logan County late Saturday afternoon, the party went on and a great time was had by all. Friends and strangers, children and adults, Presbyterians and Lutherans, among so many others, gathered around tables, including the picnic kind, and shared life.

What was the reason? Why did we spend money to do something like this? What mission organization will benefit from this?

Well, we had a party because we wanted to.

And we had hotdogs and games, art and music.

And it was a great time!

What a joy it was to see people gather together for the sake of gathering and breaking bread on a day that wasn’t Sunday.

As a community, we have something good happening among us.

Our space, it is a warm and inviting one.

You know something, though? What we did Saturday night wasn’t new. The church has been doing this for quite some time. In chapters 14 & 15 of the Gospel of Luke we see how many party scenarios there are: 

• Lessons at a dinner party - 14:1-14
• Parable of the party - 14:15-24
• Party over finding one lost sheep - 15:1-7
• Party for finding one lost coin - 15:8-10
• Party for the return of a son - 15:11-32

Jesus went to parties. Jesus talked about parties. Jesus loved to party!

Celebrating and being neighbors for the sake of being neighborly is important for the development of community. It is necessary for the love of God to manifest here and now. By celebrating in parking lots and in the pews, in the streets and in sanctuaries, we are reclaiming a lost art, the art of life together.

Not only as a church but also as a neighborhood.

You never know, we might invent a new game. Or at least be known on the block as having the best neighborhood block parties!

And that’ll be a story to tell!

Party on church!

But do so responsibly!