For my last holiday of this year I decided to visit the last country in the UK that I haven't been to yet- Scotland. My trip included two days in the village of Stirling where Matt, another American Lutheran volunteer is working and then making the pilgramage to the island of Iona for another three days. It was an exciting adventure indeed.
Matt was one of the volunteers that I visited Israel with so we have gotten very close. I haven't seen him since we went on that adventure in February, so it was really good to see him again and catch up. Matt is working with a Baptist Church right in the center of town doing mostly youth work and music ministry. He has been challenged by his job in many ways (in some similar ways to how I have been challenged with my job in London), so it was wonderful to converse about the various experiences we have had and share support and encouragment. Matt has an incredible sense of humor and I knew I wouldn't stop laughing the whole time I was in Stirling. My holiday got off to a great start when Matt invited me to come a long with him to a bible study that he puts on with his youth every Monday night. In order to get to where the session was being held, we had to bike across the village which didn't seem like a big deal. Matt's host father kindly lent me his bike which looked like a very nice race race bike. It, however, didn't really turn out to be in very nice condition since I later learned that Matt's host dad hadn't ridden it in about a year. The tires were flat, the brakes didn't really work, and I couldn't figure out how to change gears. "Let's go!", said Matt as he hopped onto his bike and rode away. "Alrighty!", I said as I hopped onto this not-so-much-in-working-order contraption. As soon as I got on, I realized that the tires were completly flat........then as I rode acouple feet I realize that I was in the hardest gear and couldn't switch out of it.........and then I rode another couple feet and saw that there was a vehicle infront of me which I couldn't stop for because of the less-than-optimum brakes. As Matt describes it, he turned around to see me literally bump into the back bumper of a car and then systematically fall over. "I've never seen somthing so hilarious in my life!!", he exclaimed. Needless to say, I never heard the end of this event and honestly could not stop laughing at myself for it. I'm definelty going to be more careful with a foreign bike next time!
After the two days in Stirling Scotland and finding all about William Wallace (yes, Sitrling is the CENTER for William Wallace and Scotland Independence.....too bad I couldn't find the movie Braveheart before I came), I made the big adventure up to Iona. Iona is a small island off the western coast of Scotland (it's only about 1 sq. mile large). The village on the island called Belle Mor'e only has a population of about 150 people. Even though it is quite small, this island has a history which is quite large. In the 6th century, St. Columba traveled over from Ireland and started a monastary here. It was this monastary that provided a stepping stone for Christianity to spread into Scotland. The island is perhaps the center of celtic cutlure and ruins in the Scottish countryside. It contains graves, monuments, and carvings that are quite spectacular and which illuminate the ideas and thoughts of the early Celtic Christians.
To get there is still a long journey even in 2008. One must take a train all the way to the northwestern Scottish coast to a village called Oban (which is about a 9 hour train ride from London). Then, one must hurry onto the ferry which takes you to the very scenic island of Mull. You must then get off and buy a ticket from a Scottish driver whom you can't really understand and get on an old, creeky bus for a 75 minute ride across the island. Once on the other side of Mull, you then get on another ferry (this one a lot smaller and a little more "rocky") for your final leg to the island of Iona. This entire journey only connects once a day which you have to research carefully otherwise you might be stranded on one leg of the adventure for a while. Luckily, I got there without much difficulty.
When one is traveling alone, you become more aware of the people around you. This is what was the most wonderful thing about the trip....meeting people that are as crazy as you to go to a dinky little island in the middle of the Atlantic. I met a wonderful reitred couple named Dale and Regina who were from Washington State and were just as taken with the scenery and culture as I was. Both were retired public school teachers who were very interested in music. When they heard that I too was a singer, they began to show me various songs that they and their community choir sing. "Let's sing somthing!", exclaimed Dale as he shuffled through some music that they had brought along. I dread to think what the Scots thought of three Americans on the ferry to Iona literally shouting the hymn "What Wondrous Love is This" over the engine noise of the boat. Even so, it really helped me to get into the spirit of coming to this remarkable place.
The old Abbey and surrounding buildings on Iona have been taken over by an Ecumenical Christian community called the Iona Community. Being very similar to a "Holden Village" in the United States, the Iona Community stresses peace, justice, and new ways of worship. The first night I was there, I heard the bells of the Abbey ring for Vespers at 9pm and decided to go. In this beautifully restored medeval church they had a long table set up in the front section. Everyone was invited to take a seat at the table and participate in communion. As the beautiful music rang through the great stonework of the church and as the minister blessed the bread and the wine, I was suddenly moved to tears. This was a place that was steeped in a thousand years of history and somehow graciously mixed it with a hopeful practice of the future. The island seemed to call to me in a real way saying "You are welcome here, just as you are." Even with my scratched up hands from my clumsy bike riding, my horse voice from my singing, and my tired spirit from working hard in London, I was accepted and "held" here. Many things came together for me that night at the table as I was taking communion. I felt extremly humbled and in awe. As I walked back to the village after the service, I looked up at the star lit sky and said a little prayer: "Thankyou God for getting me here saftley.......thankyou God for this beautiful place.....thankyou God for making me just as I am."
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
God's Presence and Father Malcolm's Motorcycle
In July, we will be taking 30 kids from our pairsh about 100 miles north of London for the annual Children's Holiday. Being a Pastoral Assistant, I am directly involved in the planning of this adventure. One thing I do know about it is that it is going to be an adventure for sure! "It always is when you take inner city kids out of their element and into the country", says Father Malcolm. Even though it can be stressful at times with all of the details in planning, I have enjoyed working with Father Malcolm in getting this week off the ground.
To get better prepared for this event, Father Malcolm invited me to come along with him up north to see the Chellington Center (where we will be staying) and make a desicion between two retreat centers we want to take the kids during two of the days. I responded eagerly because I knew what was coming next after his invitation. "So, do you want ride with me on my bike? It'll be much faster than a car.", he said. Of course, when Father Malcolm means "his bike", he isn't talking about a little 18 speed touring bike that you are lucky to not get hit with in London traffic. No, he is talking about his prized posession- a Honda Motorcycle.
Now, Father Malcolm like many of us has a hidden side. Ofcourse, all of us do in one form or another and some are better at hiding it than others. Maybe it's your secret hobby of collecting "cool rocks" or your fascination with wierd looking buildings. For Father Malcolm, it's being free of all things that hold you down; it's a desire for speed and motorcycles. Perhaps this was infused within him when he owned his own construction business before becoming a priest, or even in his teenage years when he grew up in the inner city of Cape Town, South Africa. Whenever he took on this "other side", Father Malcolm is the only priest I have ever known to do his pastoral visiting in black boots, leather straps, bike jacket......and a clerical collar.
Thus, I sheepishly got on the back of the motorcycle for the first time excited but not really knowing what to expect. I put on this HUGE, space age looking motorcycle helmet and hung on. Going through London traffic was not bad at all. It was great to weave in and out of vehicles and not really get held up by big traffic jams. We then got on the M1 (an English freeway) and ran into construction.... 45mph.......55mph....60mph.... It wasn't that bad really at all. Then, the construction came to an end, and my life flashed before my eyes....AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! We accelerated like a bullet out of a gun and tore down the freeway. The wind was so much that it jittered my entire body.
At first, I was scared out of my mind. I froze up and hung onto Malcolm with all of my strength. What if we slipped? What if we fell? What if I got run over by a truck? I couldn't bare the thought of it. I then focused my attention onto Malcolm and made a big discovery. I noticed how relaxed he was and how he just leaned back and forth with the bike. I said a little prayer and asked that I could relax just like Malcolm. I let go of my white knuckled grip a little and sunk into the seat of the motorcycle. I suddenly felt a smooth sense of calm come over me and began to notice the most beautiful landscape that we were entering into.
In my mind, I suddenly realized how my own life can be reflected on this experience. Life can be a freeway in many ways- sometimes so slow that we can't even bare it and sometimes so fast that we that we have no idea on what will come next. In my own journey, I am in a very fast and accelerated moment right now and sometimes want to hold on for dear life. But God continually helps me see to relax and sink back into the seat a little. When I find I do relax and move with the "back and frow" movement that occurs, I have the blinders removed and can be thankful for where I am right now. For Christ is there with us and inviting us to enjoy the journey.
After our long day of desicions and riding through the country, we finally made it back to London. I thanked Malcolm for allowing me to take part in his "motorcycle hobby". "It reminds you how God is always there doesn't it", he said. He is very right. God is always here. No matter if you are standing still or blasting down the freeway at 95 mph. May we all feel God's presence in the slow and fast parts of our lives.
To get better prepared for this event, Father Malcolm invited me to come along with him up north to see the Chellington Center (where we will be staying) and make a desicion between two retreat centers we want to take the kids during two of the days. I responded eagerly because I knew what was coming next after his invitation. "So, do you want ride with me on my bike? It'll be much faster than a car.", he said. Of course, when Father Malcolm means "his bike", he isn't talking about a little 18 speed touring bike that you are lucky to not get hit with in London traffic. No, he is talking about his prized posession- a Honda Motorcycle.
Now, Father Malcolm like many of us has a hidden side. Ofcourse, all of us do in one form or another and some are better at hiding it than others. Maybe it's your secret hobby of collecting "cool rocks" or your fascination with wierd looking buildings. For Father Malcolm, it's being free of all things that hold you down; it's a desire for speed and motorcycles. Perhaps this was infused within him when he owned his own construction business before becoming a priest, or even in his teenage years when he grew up in the inner city of Cape Town, South Africa. Whenever he took on this "other side", Father Malcolm is the only priest I have ever known to do his pastoral visiting in black boots, leather straps, bike jacket......and a clerical collar.
Thus, I sheepishly got on the back of the motorcycle for the first time excited but not really knowing what to expect. I put on this HUGE, space age looking motorcycle helmet and hung on. Going through London traffic was not bad at all. It was great to weave in and out of vehicles and not really get held up by big traffic jams. We then got on the M1 (an English freeway) and ran into construction.... 45mph.......55mph....60mph.... It wasn't that bad really at all. Then, the construction came to an end, and my life flashed before my eyes....AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! We accelerated like a bullet out of a gun and tore down the freeway. The wind was so much that it jittered my entire body.
At first, I was scared out of my mind. I froze up and hung onto Malcolm with all of my strength. What if we slipped? What if we fell? What if I got run over by a truck? I couldn't bare the thought of it. I then focused my attention onto Malcolm and made a big discovery. I noticed how relaxed he was and how he just leaned back and forth with the bike. I said a little prayer and asked that I could relax just like Malcolm. I let go of my white knuckled grip a little and sunk into the seat of the motorcycle. I suddenly felt a smooth sense of calm come over me and began to notice the most beautiful landscape that we were entering into.
In my mind, I suddenly realized how my own life can be reflected on this experience. Life can be a freeway in many ways- sometimes so slow that we can't even bare it and sometimes so fast that we that we have no idea on what will come next. In my own journey, I am in a very fast and accelerated moment right now and sometimes want to hold on for dear life. But God continually helps me see to relax and sink back into the seat a little. When I find I do relax and move with the "back and frow" movement that occurs, I have the blinders removed and can be thankful for where I am right now. For Christ is there with us and inviting us to enjoy the journey.
After our long day of desicions and riding through the country, we finally made it back to London. I thanked Malcolm for allowing me to take part in his "motorcycle hobby". "It reminds you how God is always there doesn't it", he said. He is very right. God is always here. No matter if you are standing still or blasting down the freeway at 95 mph. May we all feel God's presence in the slow and fast parts of our lives.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
London: Experiencing it with a Friend
The month of May has been very busy on multiple levels. Parish work continues to rumble along at a good pace and the realization of a time when I will be leaving this place keeps poking at me in stronger ways. This month has also been a time where more than ever, my two worlds (the world of Minnesota and the world of London) keep crashing into one another.
No more is this apparent then when I am hosting friends here. EVERYONE it seems wants to come to London. I sometimes think I should quit my work in the church and just open "Eric's Hotel" at the Vicarage. Along with many of my fellow traveling volunteers now realizing that they only have a couple months left here, there have also been a couple friends from the United States that have made the adventure to this wonderful country known as England.
One such friend who just spent 10 days here is called Nicholas. Nicholas and I met two years ago in Glacier National Park when we were both on an ACMNP (A Christian Ministry in the National Parks) worship team. Having both discovered our passion for Lutheran theology and music, we hit it off and have become very good friends ever since. Nicholas just completed his second year of seminary at Luther Seminary and is about to head off to his intership.
When you are volunteering abroad for a year, you have to be very careful in how you see your past friendships fitting in with your current life. It can be very hard at times as these two different worlds don't overlap much at all. What is incredibly beneficial about it if you do get it to work, however, is that it becomes an opportunity where you can show them a glimpse of the struggles, joys, and environment that you unkowningly have grown to love (at least for me).
Because of Nicholas being so involved in the United States with the church, I decided I wanted to show him as much as I could on how this parish in London works. One such event that I brought him to was an outing with 40 Year 6 (Grade 5) school children to Hampstead Heath from Brecknock Primary School. This opportunity was perhaps the greatest window into the deep, varied, and rich culture of London. Nicholas later commented how incredible it was to be around so many kids of different faiths and cultures. Nicholas saw first hand how to interact and relate to others. "Do you pray??", asked one of the Bangoli Muslim girls to Nicholas. "Yes", he replied. "We pray too! Why do you pray?", she asked. "Well", he said, "It's a good chance to give thanks for the things that we eat and thank God for life." "Yeah, but sometimes I forget to pray.... do you forget to pray?", she asked again. "Ofcourse, we are human", he said, "We forget sometimes." Immediatley, a big smile appeared girl's face. For these kids, ministry is being there and relating to them, not lecturing them. It is a chance to show both them and us that we have more in common than what we think. Nicholas and I both came away from this experience with a new sense of life in our hearts.
Nicholas also joined me for an event in the parish called "Parish Club". This group is basically made up of older church woman that get together every other week for tea and talk about various subjects. Realizing that a lot of people here know that I am Lutheran but are unaware of what exactly that means I decided that it would be a lot of fun to tell these Church of England women about the Lutheran Church. After explaining a little about Luther's life and theology, we wrapped up with a triumphant hymn of "A Mighty Fortress". The women absolutley loved it! Acouple days later, one of the ladies came up to me and said "You know what? After your presentation I went out and aquired a book about Martin Luther. I already have a que up of people who are going to get it next after I read it!" It was quite an honor indeed.
This morning Nicholas left for home to start his new summer job. We both walked down to Kings Cross Station having a wonderful discussion on the future and what lies ahead for us. After embracing, I watched my friend get on the train bound for Heathrow Airport and kept thinking to myself: Nicholas is no longer a friend who will be hearing stories of London from me, but a friend who has experienced London with me. In a future that lends itself to being uncertain, that is a foundation I can count on.
No more is this apparent then when I am hosting friends here. EVERYONE it seems wants to come to London. I sometimes think I should quit my work in the church and just open "Eric's Hotel" at the Vicarage. Along with many of my fellow traveling volunteers now realizing that they only have a couple months left here, there have also been a couple friends from the United States that have made the adventure to this wonderful country known as England.
One such friend who just spent 10 days here is called Nicholas. Nicholas and I met two years ago in Glacier National Park when we were both on an ACMNP (A Christian Ministry in the National Parks) worship team. Having both discovered our passion for Lutheran theology and music, we hit it off and have become very good friends ever since. Nicholas just completed his second year of seminary at Luther Seminary and is about to head off to his intership.
When you are volunteering abroad for a year, you have to be very careful in how you see your past friendships fitting in with your current life. It can be very hard at times as these two different worlds don't overlap much at all. What is incredibly beneficial about it if you do get it to work, however, is that it becomes an opportunity where you can show them a glimpse of the struggles, joys, and environment that you unkowningly have grown to love (at least for me).
Because of Nicholas being so involved in the United States with the church, I decided I wanted to show him as much as I could on how this parish in London works. One such event that I brought him to was an outing with 40 Year 6 (Grade 5) school children to Hampstead Heath from Brecknock Primary School. This opportunity was perhaps the greatest window into the deep, varied, and rich culture of London. Nicholas later commented how incredible it was to be around so many kids of different faiths and cultures. Nicholas saw first hand how to interact and relate to others. "Do you pray??", asked one of the Bangoli Muslim girls to Nicholas. "Yes", he replied. "We pray too! Why do you pray?", she asked. "Well", he said, "It's a good chance to give thanks for the things that we eat and thank God for life." "Yeah, but sometimes I forget to pray.... do you forget to pray?", she asked again. "Ofcourse, we are human", he said, "We forget sometimes." Immediatley, a big smile appeared girl's face. For these kids, ministry is being there and relating to them, not lecturing them. It is a chance to show both them and us that we have more in common than what we think. Nicholas and I both came away from this experience with a new sense of life in our hearts.
Nicholas also joined me for an event in the parish called "Parish Club". This group is basically made up of older church woman that get together every other week for tea and talk about various subjects. Realizing that a lot of people here know that I am Lutheran but are unaware of what exactly that means I decided that it would be a lot of fun to tell these Church of England women about the Lutheran Church. After explaining a little about Luther's life and theology, we wrapped up with a triumphant hymn of "A Mighty Fortress". The women absolutley loved it! Acouple days later, one of the ladies came up to me and said "You know what? After your presentation I went out and aquired a book about Martin Luther. I already have a que up of people who are going to get it next after I read it!" It was quite an honor indeed.
This morning Nicholas left for home to start his new summer job. We both walked down to Kings Cross Station having a wonderful discussion on the future and what lies ahead for us. After embracing, I watched my friend get on the train bound for Heathrow Airport and kept thinking to myself: Nicholas is no longer a friend who will be hearing stories of London from me, but a friend who has experienced London with me. In a future that lends itself to being uncertain, that is a foundation I can count on.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Being Still in Ireland
Last week I had the extrorindary opportunity to go on retreat to Ireland. Not realizing that my job gives me retreat time on top of my holiday time until a few weeks ago, I was lucky to find the place that I went to.
Holy Hill Hermitage is located on the northwest coast of Ireland near Sligo. The monks (both men and women) are associated with the Carmalite order and have two hermitages- one in Ireland and one in Colorado. Since the group originally started in Colorado, all of them are American (including the five "apostolic hermits" in Ireland). The hermitage was a grand old manor house which was owned by a wealthy Irish businessman in the early 19th century. The man eventually died and the family finally gave it to the Catholic diocese. The church in turn handed it over to this order of monks who took it upon themselves to rebuild the entire property. When it was the aquired, the house was in terrible condition and the stables were just walls with trees growing inside. 15 years later, this is a very different story. The stable area was turned into apartments, a kitchen, and a library that contained 6,000 volumes. The house has been totally redone and now incorporates many offices, sitting rooms, and a chapel. There are now about 10 cabins on the entire estate (5 of which the hermits use) and are rented out to retreatants. Perhaps the most amazing thing about this site is that these Carmalite monks did most of the construction and restoration themselves.
I flew out of London at 8am and got into Dublin at around 9am. After finding the main train station, I boarded a train and headed across Ireland (from the East Coast to the West Coast) and got into Sligo at around 2pm. What I did not think out clearly was the fact that it was a Bank Holiday that day (the UK and Ireland have Bank Holidays on specific dates- they are glorious things). My next step from Sligo was to take a short bus ride to the little village of Skreen where the monks were supposed to pick me up (though I had not made recent contact). Stumbling up to the bus station with all my things, I realized that no buses were going to Skreen that day because of the Bank Holiday. Wondering what my next step was, I called the hermitage and finally got through. One of the sisters answered and seemed surprised to hear from me. Apparently, one of the other monks had misread my email and the dates that I gave for staying there. They actually expected me a day later instead of the Bank Holiday. On top of that, she said that they usually don't take retreatants on Mondays because it is there "Desert Day", or the day where they have complete solitude and are out of the office. "You are one lucky young man!", she said. The only reason why she was in the office was to grab some keys for the hermitage vehicle to take another retreatant back to the train station in Sligo (because the busses were not running). Luckily, my phone call intercepted her while she was there and she randomly decided to pick up the phone. It was a day that I had the Lord on my side!
After arriving and upacking in my wonderfully furnished cabin which lay about 20 ft. away from a mountain stream, I went for a walk around the property. It was an incredible evening (the weather followed the same theme every day of the week- warm and sunny), and I found wonderful places of peace among the flowers, trees, and vegetables that lay all around. The hermitage lay at the foot of a large mountain which rose impressivly above our cabins. From the manor house, one could stretch out and read infront of a breathtaking view of the Atlantic Ocean and other mountains across the bay.
In my week with the monks, I participated in many community activities of gardening, mowing, and hiking. One of the monks, Brother Thomas, really connected with me as we both have a deep interest in hiking. Thomas was the first insulin dependent diabetic to hike the 2,000 mile Appalachian Trail streight through. He hiked it in 121 days!! "That is how I decided to become a monk", he said. "I needed to be with nature." Thomas used to be a public accountant before turning to the monastic life. He summed up his incredible story by saying: "You just need to be still sometimes." Being still was a very important part of my time in Ireland. For the first time, I could listen to the birds, water, leaves, and wind and really take somthing deeper in.
This proved incredibly true on my last day in Ireland when I decided to bike down to the beach (or "Strand" as the Irish call it). It was a cooler day and overcast which contrasted with the beautiful week of weather that we had previously. When I arrived at the beach I found that I was the only person there. This beach stretched about 8 miles down the coast and presented you with the most incredible Irish countryside views. Being suprised at the fact of me being the only one there, I first became sheepish and just sat near the car park and watched the waves come in. However, seeing this as an opportunity to be with God, I later got up and started to walk and then playfully run across the vast stretches of beach! As my footprints dotted the shoreline, I stopped again and listened.... The waves crashed along the shore and my heavy breathing were the only sounds that anyone could hear for miles around. Time seemed to stand still.
Sometimes it is the moments that we have alone with God that refresh us the most. For me, Ireland filled me with the most incredible joy and hope. We all need retreats I think. We all need to be with God in a new way.
Holy Hill Hermitage is located on the northwest coast of Ireland near Sligo. The monks (both men and women) are associated with the Carmalite order and have two hermitages- one in Ireland and one in Colorado. Since the group originally started in Colorado, all of them are American (including the five "apostolic hermits" in Ireland). The hermitage was a grand old manor house which was owned by a wealthy Irish businessman in the early 19th century. The man eventually died and the family finally gave it to the Catholic diocese. The church in turn handed it over to this order of monks who took it upon themselves to rebuild the entire property. When it was the aquired, the house was in terrible condition and the stables were just walls with trees growing inside. 15 years later, this is a very different story. The stable area was turned into apartments, a kitchen, and a library that contained 6,000 volumes. The house has been totally redone and now incorporates many offices, sitting rooms, and a chapel. There are now about 10 cabins on the entire estate (5 of which the hermits use) and are rented out to retreatants. Perhaps the most amazing thing about this site is that these Carmalite monks did most of the construction and restoration themselves.
I flew out of London at 8am and got into Dublin at around 9am. After finding the main train station, I boarded a train and headed across Ireland (from the East Coast to the West Coast) and got into Sligo at around 2pm. What I did not think out clearly was the fact that it was a Bank Holiday that day (the UK and Ireland have Bank Holidays on specific dates- they are glorious things). My next step from Sligo was to take a short bus ride to the little village of Skreen where the monks were supposed to pick me up (though I had not made recent contact). Stumbling up to the bus station with all my things, I realized that no buses were going to Skreen that day because of the Bank Holiday. Wondering what my next step was, I called the hermitage and finally got through. One of the sisters answered and seemed surprised to hear from me. Apparently, one of the other monks had misread my email and the dates that I gave for staying there. They actually expected me a day later instead of the Bank Holiday. On top of that, she said that they usually don't take retreatants on Mondays because it is there "Desert Day", or the day where they have complete solitude and are out of the office. "You are one lucky young man!", she said. The only reason why she was in the office was to grab some keys for the hermitage vehicle to take another retreatant back to the train station in Sligo (because the busses were not running). Luckily, my phone call intercepted her while she was there and she randomly decided to pick up the phone. It was a day that I had the Lord on my side!
After arriving and upacking in my wonderfully furnished cabin which lay about 20 ft. away from a mountain stream, I went for a walk around the property. It was an incredible evening (the weather followed the same theme every day of the week- warm and sunny), and I found wonderful places of peace among the flowers, trees, and vegetables that lay all around. The hermitage lay at the foot of a large mountain which rose impressivly above our cabins. From the manor house, one could stretch out and read infront of a breathtaking view of the Atlantic Ocean and other mountains across the bay.
In my week with the monks, I participated in many community activities of gardening, mowing, and hiking. One of the monks, Brother Thomas, really connected with me as we both have a deep interest in hiking. Thomas was the first insulin dependent diabetic to hike the 2,000 mile Appalachian Trail streight through. He hiked it in 121 days!! "That is how I decided to become a monk", he said. "I needed to be with nature." Thomas used to be a public accountant before turning to the monastic life. He summed up his incredible story by saying: "You just need to be still sometimes." Being still was a very important part of my time in Ireland. For the first time, I could listen to the birds, water, leaves, and wind and really take somthing deeper in.
This proved incredibly true on my last day in Ireland when I decided to bike down to the beach (or "Strand" as the Irish call it). It was a cooler day and overcast which contrasted with the beautiful week of weather that we had previously. When I arrived at the beach I found that I was the only person there. This beach stretched about 8 miles down the coast and presented you with the most incredible Irish countryside views. Being suprised at the fact of me being the only one there, I first became sheepish and just sat near the car park and watched the waves come in. However, seeing this as an opportunity to be with God, I later got up and started to walk and then playfully run across the vast stretches of beach! As my footprints dotted the shoreline, I stopped again and listened.... The waves crashed along the shore and my heavy breathing were the only sounds that anyone could hear for miles around. Time seemed to stand still.
Sometimes it is the moments that we have alone with God that refresh us the most. For me, Ireland filled me with the most incredible joy and hope. We all need retreats I think. We all need to be with God in a new way.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Tis' the Season of Taxes and Anual Church Meetings
There comes a point in every year where you take the time to pour over all of the numbers and issues of the past and try to focus on a new set of statistics. For many of us good citizens of the world, this comes in April where we pay our tribute to the spirits of tax and rebate. In the UK, there is no difference in this anual ritual and the church also participates. As part of a governmental order by the Church of England, all parishes need to have their Anual Parochial Church Meeting (APCM) in the month of April. Thus, I had the privilage to continue my observation in the way a church is run.
After mass at St. Michael's, all of the parishoners, priest, and church council (observed by some homeless people in the back ofcourse) gathered in the sanctuary for the meeting. Father Bruce started off with his priest report which gave a very positive message on how St. Michael's has done without their parish priest of 12 years (Fr. Nicholas) so far. "We must continue our positive energy and show this community that we are not just a building, but a family ", he said.
Then it was Will's, the treasurer of St. Michael's, turn to share his report. Unfortunatley, this report wasn't as rosey. Because of the dramatic rise in living costs within London, gifts to the church just haven't been able to keep up with the need. Therefore, St. Michael's Church has had to do some dramatic moves to keep it's costs down. One of these measures was not turning on the heat for the building this winter. The debate among the parishoners then began to commence. It was the question on everyone's mind: What can we do to keep costs down?
Now, it is a challenging job to keep any meeting on track sometimes. However, for some wierd reason, church meetings are always the worst at getting offtrack. Being that St. Michael's is made up of such a varied population, it undoubtly is the king of "getting-off-the-beaten-path" meetings. "Why can't we just close the door when we are having mass?", asks one person. "I think we should invest in environmentally sustainable ways of heating our building", another person immediatley responds. "Now going back to that first question", replies a third person, " We can't shut the door because it won't give as welcoming of a message." "And it lets the pigeons in!", came a response from the back. "Yeah! Pigeons are a huge problem right now, we just can't have them inside flying around." "I think we should shoot 'em", said a younger boy in the front row. "Yes! I motion that we get a guy in to shoot the pigeons in our church!", yelled an older lady. "I refuse to come to this church if we shoot pigeons...that is ethically wrong. We should have a picture of a hawk infront of the door.", yelled a younger parishoner. "Well, that will just look frick'n ugly!", said a person who I swore walked in just a minute ago. Father Bruce and Emily (the church warden) finally mentioned that we were on the topic of managing our costs, not of hiring someone to come in and shoot pigeons.
Needless to say, it was one of the most amazing "meeting adventures" I have ever had! Amazingly, we actually were able to get some things done in the end. The parishoners voted in a new church council in, decided on some logical ways to cut costs, and even took some steps to start doing somthing with the pigeons. It's amazing on what can be accomplished, even when everyone seems to want somthing different.
I acknowledge Fr. Bruce and Emily for leading such a good meeting. One never really thinks about the usefullness of having skills to lead a good meeting, but they are very good indeed! In many ways, it must be the grace of God that some decisions are made in parishes. Father Bruce said it best as we were leaving the church. He turned to me, smiled, and said "See, there is a God."
After mass at St. Michael's, all of the parishoners, priest, and church council (observed by some homeless people in the back ofcourse) gathered in the sanctuary for the meeting. Father Bruce started off with his priest report which gave a very positive message on how St. Michael's has done without their parish priest of 12 years (Fr. Nicholas) so far. "We must continue our positive energy and show this community that we are not just a building, but a family ", he said.
Then it was Will's, the treasurer of St. Michael's, turn to share his report. Unfortunatley, this report wasn't as rosey. Because of the dramatic rise in living costs within London, gifts to the church just haven't been able to keep up with the need. Therefore, St. Michael's Church has had to do some dramatic moves to keep it's costs down. One of these measures was not turning on the heat for the building this winter. The debate among the parishoners then began to commence. It was the question on everyone's mind: What can we do to keep costs down?
Now, it is a challenging job to keep any meeting on track sometimes. However, for some wierd reason, church meetings are always the worst at getting offtrack. Being that St. Michael's is made up of such a varied population, it undoubtly is the king of "getting-off-the-beaten-path" meetings. "Why can't we just close the door when we are having mass?", asks one person. "I think we should invest in environmentally sustainable ways of heating our building", another person immediatley responds. "Now going back to that first question", replies a third person, " We can't shut the door because it won't give as welcoming of a message." "And it lets the pigeons in!", came a response from the back. "Yeah! Pigeons are a huge problem right now, we just can't have them inside flying around." "I think we should shoot 'em", said a younger boy in the front row. "Yes! I motion that we get a guy in to shoot the pigeons in our church!", yelled an older lady. "I refuse to come to this church if we shoot pigeons...that is ethically wrong. We should have a picture of a hawk infront of the door.", yelled a younger parishoner. "Well, that will just look frick'n ugly!", said a person who I swore walked in just a minute ago. Father Bruce and Emily (the church warden) finally mentioned that we were on the topic of managing our costs, not of hiring someone to come in and shoot pigeons.
Needless to say, it was one of the most amazing "meeting adventures" I have ever had! Amazingly, we actually were able to get some things done in the end. The parishoners voted in a new church council in, decided on some logical ways to cut costs, and even took some steps to start doing somthing with the pigeons. It's amazing on what can be accomplished, even when everyone seems to want somthing different.
I acknowledge Fr. Bruce and Emily for leading such a good meeting. One never really thinks about the usefullness of having skills to lead a good meeting, but they are very good indeed! In many ways, it must be the grace of God that some decisions are made in parishes. Father Bruce said it best as we were leaving the church. He turned to me, smiled, and said "See, there is a God."
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Entering into the Passion of Music....... Again.
This last evening I went with a parishoner of St. Paul's Church to a choir rehearsal. This choir was and unusual choir in that it wasn't formed for performing at all. Infact, to my suprise this group gives absolutley NO performances at all.
The London Motet and Madrigal Chorus was formed over 60 years ago by a group of retired singers who just wanted the chance to keep singing. Over it's history the group has grown and transformed into it's current state repetoire, but still keeps the same mission- singing for the enjoyment of singing. About 40 people gathered at the Methodist International Center for a fun and light-hearted rehearsal of various English Madrigals and Sacred Works.
I immediatley noticed that I was the youngest singer in the group by about 30 years. This, however, didn't prevent anyone from coming up to greet me. "Welcome!", said an elderly man with a thick Welsh accent. "Are you a Tenor or Barritone?" "I am a Tenor", I replied. He then kindly brought me over to the Tenor section and had a very enteratining argument with another chap about if I should sing First Tenor or Second Tenor. "He looks like he is a wonderfully spirited young man who should have the privilage of singing First Tenor with me!", one of the men said. "Now, it is not polite to put a new guest in the front row!", stated the other. It was finally decided that I would sing Second Tenor along side an elderly professor from the University of London called Bert. "I'm glad you're here! I dont' have much of a voice today!", said Bert.
I was immediatley given three thick English Madrigal books and looked through a list of pieces that we were going to sing. As soon as I started looking through the book, I heard a loud clearing of the throat from the conductor's stand: "aaaaakkkkhhhhhheeeeemmmmm". There stood a nicely dressed, very slender, middle aged man. "I am so glad that you have come out this evening to sing with us!", he said in one of the most stereotypical English Professor accents I have ever heard. The conductor's name was Jonathan. Jonathan works as choir master for a church down the road and also gives some of his time to the local universities as visiting faculty. His quirky "Britishness" made me like him instantly and he did a wonderful job at keeping the group together.
As soon as we started singing the first piece, I felt a new part of me come to life. Oh how I have missed being in a choral ensemble- more than I really even thought. "This is so incredible!", I thought to myself as Bert was blaring into my ear and Jonathan was doing a wierd "Madrigal Dance" up in front. In many ways, I felt like I was home.
As I walked back to the Vicarage after rehearsal singing Madrigal tunes I realized how much music needs to be a part of my life. Not only in the case of listening to it, but being involved in it. I think everyone has a certain spiritual part of them that is fed by a certain somthing. Maybe it is writing, or painting, or even walking. What I know about myself now is that singing feeds that part of me in a very real way. You can bet I'll be back for the next rehearsal!
The London Motet and Madrigal Chorus was formed over 60 years ago by a group of retired singers who just wanted the chance to keep singing. Over it's history the group has grown and transformed into it's current state repetoire, but still keeps the same mission- singing for the enjoyment of singing. About 40 people gathered at the Methodist International Center for a fun and light-hearted rehearsal of various English Madrigals and Sacred Works.
I immediatley noticed that I was the youngest singer in the group by about 30 years. This, however, didn't prevent anyone from coming up to greet me. "Welcome!", said an elderly man with a thick Welsh accent. "Are you a Tenor or Barritone?" "I am a Tenor", I replied. He then kindly brought me over to the Tenor section and had a very enteratining argument with another chap about if I should sing First Tenor or Second Tenor. "He looks like he is a wonderfully spirited young man who should have the privilage of singing First Tenor with me!", one of the men said. "Now, it is not polite to put a new guest in the front row!", stated the other. It was finally decided that I would sing Second Tenor along side an elderly professor from the University of London called Bert. "I'm glad you're here! I dont' have much of a voice today!", said Bert.
I was immediatley given three thick English Madrigal books and looked through a list of pieces that we were going to sing. As soon as I started looking through the book, I heard a loud clearing of the throat from the conductor's stand: "aaaaakkkkhhhhhheeeeemmmmm". There stood a nicely dressed, very slender, middle aged man. "I am so glad that you have come out this evening to sing with us!", he said in one of the most stereotypical English Professor accents I have ever heard. The conductor's name was Jonathan. Jonathan works as choir master for a church down the road and also gives some of his time to the local universities as visiting faculty. His quirky "Britishness" made me like him instantly and he did a wonderful job at keeping the group together.
As soon as we started singing the first piece, I felt a new part of me come to life. Oh how I have missed being in a choral ensemble- more than I really even thought. "This is so incredible!", I thought to myself as Bert was blaring into my ear and Jonathan was doing a wierd "Madrigal Dance" up in front. In many ways, I felt like I was home.
As I walked back to the Vicarage after rehearsal singing Madrigal tunes I realized how much music needs to be a part of my life. Not only in the case of listening to it, but being involved in it. I think everyone has a certain spiritual part of them that is fed by a certain somthing. Maybe it is writing, or painting, or even walking. What I know about myself now is that singing feeds that part of me in a very real way. You can bet I'll be back for the next rehearsal!
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Being Lost and Reminded that "Any Dream will Do"
"Go, Go, Go Joseph!" all the kids were saying as we were coming out of the theatre. This week, I had the wonderful opportunity along with Owen and Fr. Malcolm to take 60 youth and their parents to a West End production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat. It was absolutely fantastic and an event that the kids won't forget for a long time. Father Malcolm came up with the idea to do this last autumn and had been working hard on the fundraising to pull it off. To my amazment, he was able to get all 60 tickets and give them to the kids and their parents for free. All he asked for in return was for them to give a donation of what they could to the event.
Even transportation was worked out as Father Malcolm has a good friend who owns a very old and worn, but trusty double-decker bus. It turned out to be the perfect vehicle indeed! Thus, we joined all of the other "trendy" West End Musical goers and (at least I thought) pulled off the image well. The only difference was that instead of pulling up in a BMW or City Coach- 60 of us pulled up infront of the theatre in a big, smokey, purple coloured double decker bus. The kids loved the attention from all of the other concert-goers.
The musical Joseph was written in the late 1960's by Andrew Lloyd Weber and continues to be loved by the British theatre community. Ofcourse, in line with the "hippy" era that it was written in, the musical contains all of the flash and glammour that you would expect (my favorite was how Pharoh in the musical was played like Elvis!) The UK has been taken by the American Idol craze and has spun off a number of similar shows- one of which last year was searching for a new "Joseph" lead in the musical. The country voted and with a huge majority favored Lee Meed as the new Jospeh. This great performer became Britian's new overnight celebrity and is still putting on incredible performances every night. He sings the part with incredible energy and emotion. This energy ignited our group and the kids were singing musical songs all the way back home. What a tremendous event to be a part of!
After the Joseph event and another long and extensive week, I decided to take a free day and go to the beautiful village of St. Albans (about 30 miles outside of London). It was so nice as the town contrasts London so greatly with the more peace and quiet. In my hurried preperation to go, I didn't really put in any details of the village in my bag so I didn't really have any idea where anything was. I decided that this was ok and just wandered around for a bit. I finally (after walking the wrong direction) found the highstreet and central square of the town. Then, walking further, I came upon the medival Cathedral. I sat in the Cathderal for a while and then went walking around again before deciding to come back to the Cathedral. A wedding was just ending in the chapel, so I quietly stood around and admired the windows.
Upon my viewing of the various things in the Cathedral, I had a surprising tap on my shoulder and a rather tatty looking elderly man smiling at me. "I've seen you twice now walking up and down the Highstreet and around the Cathedral", he said. "Now this is the third time I have seen you and with due respect sir, you look lost." Being surprised at this comment, I chuckled a little bit and said that I was just here from London and making it a day out. We talked for a little while about the wedding that was just ending as he knew the groom involved. "Would you like to walk up to the pub with me to get a drink- or don't you drink?", the man asked. Not being really sure (because of the man's outward apperance) if I would be the one paying for the drinks I hesitated for a split second. However, somthing about the man really struck me as being very genuine and real so I took him up on his offer.
He was infact true to his word and bought me a pint of Guiness. As we sat down he said, "Now back at the Cathedral, I only meant partly that you look lost geographically.....I'm just going to be honest with you sir, you also look weighed down by somthing." Again, I was surprised at his very honest and upfront nature and replied that I did indeed feel weighed down by things. I suddenly realized that this day was probably the first day in a many weeks that I could actually allow myself to feel lost in a way. The stresses of work in London and my future obligations in life continue to put a lot of weight upon my shoulders, but don't allow much opportunity to outwardly show the stresses. "You can't let yourself be sucked in by things all the time.", the man said. "I'll be honest with you, I've been in that place too." He went on to explain how his job in aerospace engineering consumed both himself and his marriage. "I'll just be honest with you, you need to let yourself have times to express your insecurities but then also have people there for you who can walk with you in those insecurities. I've hadn't had that a lot in my life.", he finally said.
I was greatly inspired by what he had to say and his really honest spirit. We both sat and shared a lot about ourselves and what makes us feel "lost". After about a two hour discussion in the pub, it was time to go. "I'll be honest with you, you're a fantastic kid with lots of spirit and I respect you a lot.", he said as he shook my hand. As I was walking out of the pub, I turned around quickly forgetting to ask his name! "My name is Eric!", I said. "What's your's?" "Michael", he replied as he toasted his beer glass to me.
What I finally realized as I was walking back to the train station was the whole beauty of presence. Here was a man who thoughtfully acknowledged my being "lost" and who gracefully wanted to help. In many ways, Michael too was "lost" and gratefully thanked me for being there to help as well. BOTH of us needed each other in a way. We all get "lost" in our lives sometimes and burdened down with the stresses and responsibilities. In that struggle, there can sometimes be no more powerful thing than the presence and attention of another human being. Michael didn't give me any quick answers to solve any of the stresses or fears that I have, nor did I really give him any either. But what did lift both of us in the pub that day was the fact that there are human beings in this world that can give respect and share in struggles and stresses. Michael reminded me of that in a very real way. May we all have the courage to do to the same.
Even transportation was worked out as Father Malcolm has a good friend who owns a very old and worn, but trusty double-decker bus. It turned out to be the perfect vehicle indeed! Thus, we joined all of the other "trendy" West End Musical goers and (at least I thought) pulled off the image well. The only difference was that instead of pulling up in a BMW or City Coach- 60 of us pulled up infront of the theatre in a big, smokey, purple coloured double decker bus. The kids loved the attention from all of the other concert-goers.
The musical Joseph was written in the late 1960's by Andrew Lloyd Weber and continues to be loved by the British theatre community. Ofcourse, in line with the "hippy" era that it was written in, the musical contains all of the flash and glammour that you would expect (my favorite was how Pharoh in the musical was played like Elvis!) The UK has been taken by the American Idol craze and has spun off a number of similar shows- one of which last year was searching for a new "Joseph" lead in the musical. The country voted and with a huge majority favored Lee Meed as the new Jospeh. This great performer became Britian's new overnight celebrity and is still putting on incredible performances every night. He sings the part with incredible energy and emotion. This energy ignited our group and the kids were singing musical songs all the way back home. What a tremendous event to be a part of!
After the Joseph event and another long and extensive week, I decided to take a free day and go to the beautiful village of St. Albans (about 30 miles outside of London). It was so nice as the town contrasts London so greatly with the more peace and quiet. In my hurried preperation to go, I didn't really put in any details of the village in my bag so I didn't really have any idea where anything was. I decided that this was ok and just wandered around for a bit. I finally (after walking the wrong direction) found the highstreet and central square of the town. Then, walking further, I came upon the medival Cathedral. I sat in the Cathderal for a while and then went walking around again before deciding to come back to the Cathedral. A wedding was just ending in the chapel, so I quietly stood around and admired the windows.
Upon my viewing of the various things in the Cathedral, I had a surprising tap on my shoulder and a rather tatty looking elderly man smiling at me. "I've seen you twice now walking up and down the Highstreet and around the Cathedral", he said. "Now this is the third time I have seen you and with due respect sir, you look lost." Being surprised at this comment, I chuckled a little bit and said that I was just here from London and making it a day out. We talked for a little while about the wedding that was just ending as he knew the groom involved. "Would you like to walk up to the pub with me to get a drink- or don't you drink?", the man asked. Not being really sure (because of the man's outward apperance) if I would be the one paying for the drinks I hesitated for a split second. However, somthing about the man really struck me as being very genuine and real so I took him up on his offer.
He was infact true to his word and bought me a pint of Guiness. As we sat down he said, "Now back at the Cathedral, I only meant partly that you look lost geographically.....I'm just going to be honest with you sir, you also look weighed down by somthing." Again, I was surprised at his very honest and upfront nature and replied that I did indeed feel weighed down by things. I suddenly realized that this day was probably the first day in a many weeks that I could actually allow myself to feel lost in a way. The stresses of work in London and my future obligations in life continue to put a lot of weight upon my shoulders, but don't allow much opportunity to outwardly show the stresses. "You can't let yourself be sucked in by things all the time.", the man said. "I'll be honest with you, I've been in that place too." He went on to explain how his job in aerospace engineering consumed both himself and his marriage. "I'll just be honest with you, you need to let yourself have times to express your insecurities but then also have people there for you who can walk with you in those insecurities. I've hadn't had that a lot in my life.", he finally said.
I was greatly inspired by what he had to say and his really honest spirit. We both sat and shared a lot about ourselves and what makes us feel "lost". After about a two hour discussion in the pub, it was time to go. "I'll be honest with you, you're a fantastic kid with lots of spirit and I respect you a lot.", he said as he shook my hand. As I was walking out of the pub, I turned around quickly forgetting to ask his name! "My name is Eric!", I said. "What's your's?" "Michael", he replied as he toasted his beer glass to me.
What I finally realized as I was walking back to the train station was the whole beauty of presence. Here was a man who thoughtfully acknowledged my being "lost" and who gracefully wanted to help. In many ways, Michael too was "lost" and gratefully thanked me for being there to help as well. BOTH of us needed each other in a way. We all get "lost" in our lives sometimes and burdened down with the stresses and responsibilities. In that struggle, there can sometimes be no more powerful thing than the presence and attention of another human being. Michael didn't give me any quick answers to solve any of the stresses or fears that I have, nor did I really give him any either. But what did lift both of us in the pub that day was the fact that there are human beings in this world that can give respect and share in struggles and stresses. Michael reminded me of that in a very real way. May we all have the courage to do to the same.
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