The month of July has marched by in a lot of various ways. It has felt like I have been in a crazy whirlwind that won't let up and allow me to take a breather. I have arguably been the busiest I have ever been in my life and know that life probably won't be this intense for a long while to come. When we come to the end of somthing, it is only natural that we want to "leave well" and leave wherever we were "better then when we came". I have been no exception to this rule as I have constantly been thinking about how to say goodbye.
Within this hard push of packing-up, goodbye's, and exchange of emotions I have continually asked myself "how can I be perfectly remembered?" It is probably a human emotion that drives us to leave everything in perfect order and ride out into the sunset like an American cowboy film hero. Perhaps the event that most emphasized this feeling was my coordination of a choir concert at Old St. Pancras Church.
I have had the blessing to conduct a Children's Choir at St. Michael's Primary School this past year which has really been an eye opener for me. The 35 kids in the choir come from all kinds of different backgrounds and cultures which is typical for this part of London. However, many of the children come from very difficult home lives as well and at age 11 find themselves taking care of their younger brothers and sisters without much assistance from the parents. Thus, the stress that faces these kids is absolutley incredible, but they somehow continue to have a passionate energy about life. Most of the kids in the choir can't read music at all and really dont' know proper singing technique. Over the past year, I have been working with them in their singing and have been incredibly proud of their progress. So proud, infact, that I suggested to the headteacher of the school that we give a concert. My thought was to have this concert be combined with various parishoners doing acts inbetween the song sets of the choir. She quickly agreed to the plan and I set out to plan the event.
After a month of planning and rehearsals, the concert finally commenced this last week. "It's going to be perfect!" , I thought. The programs were made, people seemed to be excited to come, the choir knew what they were going to do, and all of the acts seemed to be in place. Ofcourse, my expectation of what the concert should be was a little different to how it actually turned out. First of all, half of my kids showed up late for our meeting and warm-up time, so we were forced to run down to the church in order to start the concert on time. Then, Daniel, a wonderful young man in the parish who agreed to announce the acts somehow thought that the concert was at another church.....so I had to start the show. On top of that, one of the parishoners who was doing a dance for the show missed what time the show actually was so arrived 10 minutes after the concert ended. One can imagine (especially if you have perfectionist tendencies like me) that it became quite hard not to scream AHHH!!! and march out of the doors to go home.
I have found this year particularly that God has unique ways in which God challenges people and walks with people. So where was God in all of this mayhem that didn't seem to be going right? With the children ofcourse. Infact, I can tell you that I don't think I have ever felt the presence of God in a more real way than when I was up directing those children in singing. In one of the songs (which was accompanied by a CD), the CD started skipping and had to be quickly turned off. "GREAT!", I was screaming to myself as we were midway through the song. "We are really going to mess this one up now....". As soon as I had thought this, however, Liza (a 7 year old girl who is one of the youngest in the choir) flashed me a huge smile from the front row and started to clap to the beat. Suddenly, the entire choir was clapping and smiling even more broadly as they were singing (now by themselves). Then the audience joined in the fun and was so moved by the song that they gave us a standing ovation right after the piece ended. I was absolutley flaburgasted....it was such a beautiful moment that I was shaking and had to work at not tearing up too much in order to get through the rest of the songs.
And so the concert ended with everyone in tears and in smiles. "This was the most moving concert I have ever been to at St. Pancras Old Church!", one of the parishoners proclaimed. "I haven't had such a good evening in a very long time!", another person said. The concert did not turn out to be smooth running or perfect, infact far from it. Even though I was getting wonderful hugs, high-fives, and compliments I knew it was the kids who deserved the real applause. They were the ones who walked with me in this journey and actually pushed me ahead at times when I thought I couldn't continue any longer. They were the ones who reminded me that we can still do incredible things- even if they don't turn out the way we think they should turn out.
As I was walking home from the event that night, it finally hit me that this is how my year in London has gone as well. The year in the Parishes of St. Pancras has not gone perfectly and totally to plan....infact far from it. Looking back I laugh to myself in how chaotic at times it really was- having Father Nicholas leave midway through, starting an interim period with no idea how to function in one, parishoners dying, having no heat in the church, and having communication problems with staff and parishoners. But yet, like the kids, God has walked with me and reinforced the fact of "Yes, I can do this". My choir reminded me that God perhaps is more in the imperfect than in the perfect.
It is also important to remember how that journey never ends. I will leave London with a new and challenged concept of ministry. As I come back to Minnesota, start taking classes in seminary as a part-time student, and working to get myself back into the essence of U.S. cutlure, I am reminded that ministry is far from over. God still walks through and with all of us in every chapter of our lives.
As I was saying goodbye to the kids for the last time, I was bombarded with hugs and kisses. Liza, the same girl who started to clap in the concert came up to me and gave me one of the biggest hugs I have ever had. After, she turns to me with a huge smile and said, "You know what my most favorite part of the conert was?!" "What?", I replied. "When the CD broke, but we all continued to sing!!" She then skipped away from me and prominently asked one of her friends "So!! What are you excited about for next year?!" It was hard to miss the excitment that exuded from this little girl as she entered into a new chapter of her life.
As this will be my last entry, I ask for your prayers as I come home and begin my new life in the United States. I pray that we all may be able to reflect on each chapter of our lives as well as to continue the journey knowing that God will always there. May we always be thankful for all of the relationships that help us to see God and this beautiful creation. And finally, I encourage you to try and not get hung up on the things that don't go as planned, but to always be open to God who is working through all of us and to "keep singing, even when the CD breaks."
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Holden Evening Prayer London Style
Over this summer, it has been a goal of mine to put more creativity into my work here at the Parish of St. Pancras. Being a Pastoral Assistant can be the same kind of work over and over again which is no fun. Thus, I decided to bring a little of myself into the act of worship here. Within this big plan of mine was the inclusion of the Holden Evening Prayer service into a Sunday mass. Father Bruce was extremely supportive with this idea and gave me the go ahead to try it out.
Holden Evening Prayer comes from a Lutheran retreat centre in the midst of the Cascade Mountains in Washington State. It is an extremely rural place that lies at the end of a 10 mile long lake so the only way to get there (unless being medically evacuated) is by boat. Holden Village is comitted to rejuvinating the Christian worship service with music and issues of peace and social justice.
The first thing that I had to do was to explain to an English parish what Holden Village was. "Holden Village is a Retreat Centre in Washington State", I said. "Oh, so does your church go there for meetings then?" "Yes, but mostly for worship and meditation", I replied. "Oh...meetings are not very medatative... at least in the Church of England". I finally figured out that what Holden Village is in "English terms" is a pilgramage site, not a retreat centre. After I made this clear, people finally had an idea on what I was talking about.
Holden Evening Prayer is also a serivce that is built on silence as well as music. Meditation is extremely important and somthing that I have gained a lot from in the service. At the begining of the worship, we had a long silence before the procession in. "This is going to be great!", I thought. The service began with me processing in with a candle and cantoring which broke the silence. I all of a sudden heard a high pitched "NOOOOO!!!!" from the side of the sanctuary. One of the young toddlers who had come didn't get their way and began to yell and scream. We then began the Evening Hymn which is a wonderful and soft hymn to begin the service. The yelling and screaming from before irritated another baby on the other side of the room which started to cry. Pretty soon, the hymn "Joyous Light" turned into a chorus of "Joyus Cries". AHH!! "They are ruining the service!!", I thought. "This isn't what it is suppose to be". Then, during one of the psalms which is sung in a round setting, ANOTHER baby started to cry which screwed me up in my leading the song. All of a sudden, the round started to become chaos. After the piece, I sunk into my chair...... "this service is a failure", I thought to myself.
Afterwards, I was helping with refreshments and had a herd of people come up to me. "What an incredible service!!", one person said. "It was so moving and the music was incredible!", another person said. "Thanks..", I replied still thinking to myself that they must be making up these coments just for me to feel good. At the very end, Peter Deed, an older member of St. Michael's Church came up to me and asked if he could keep the service sheet. "Ofcourse", I said. "Good, because it will be going right into my scrapbook when I get home. Everytime I will see it I will now think of the incredible young man you are and how wonderful Lutheran worship can be! It really touched me", he said. I was flaburgasted. He was going to put the service sheet into his scrapbook?? Really? Maybe everyone was not making up these coments. Maybe it truly was an experience that people felt God's presence in.
I think that when we bring somthing of ourselves to another environment to share, we want it exactly the same and want it to change people in the same way that it changed us. I know I put so many conditions on to how this evening worship would be recieved that I percieved it as a failure even before it ended. In truth, people do see how important somthing can be to you and will gladly take part in it. They will be changed....only in their own way. Holden Evening Prayer was a sucess for this place. People were rejuvinated and refreshingly suprised at how they found God in somthing new. That, I have finally figured out, was the whole point.
Holden Evening Prayer comes from a Lutheran retreat centre in the midst of the Cascade Mountains in Washington State. It is an extremely rural place that lies at the end of a 10 mile long lake so the only way to get there (unless being medically evacuated) is by boat. Holden Village is comitted to rejuvinating the Christian worship service with music and issues of peace and social justice.
The first thing that I had to do was to explain to an English parish what Holden Village was. "Holden Village is a Retreat Centre in Washington State", I said. "Oh, so does your church go there for meetings then?" "Yes, but mostly for worship and meditation", I replied. "Oh...meetings are not very medatative... at least in the Church of England". I finally figured out that what Holden Village is in "English terms" is a pilgramage site, not a retreat centre. After I made this clear, people finally had an idea on what I was talking about.
Holden Evening Prayer is also a serivce that is built on silence as well as music. Meditation is extremely important and somthing that I have gained a lot from in the service. At the begining of the worship, we had a long silence before the procession in. "This is going to be great!", I thought. The service began with me processing in with a candle and cantoring which broke the silence. I all of a sudden heard a high pitched "NOOOOO!!!!" from the side of the sanctuary. One of the young toddlers who had come didn't get their way and began to yell and scream. We then began the Evening Hymn which is a wonderful and soft hymn to begin the service. The yelling and screaming from before irritated another baby on the other side of the room which started to cry. Pretty soon, the hymn "Joyous Light" turned into a chorus of "Joyus Cries". AHH!! "They are ruining the service!!", I thought. "This isn't what it is suppose to be". Then, during one of the psalms which is sung in a round setting, ANOTHER baby started to cry which screwed me up in my leading the song. All of a sudden, the round started to become chaos. After the piece, I sunk into my chair...... "this service is a failure", I thought to myself.
Afterwards, I was helping with refreshments and had a herd of people come up to me. "What an incredible service!!", one person said. "It was so moving and the music was incredible!", another person said. "Thanks..", I replied still thinking to myself that they must be making up these coments just for me to feel good. At the very end, Peter Deed, an older member of St. Michael's Church came up to me and asked if he could keep the service sheet. "Ofcourse", I said. "Good, because it will be going right into my scrapbook when I get home. Everytime I will see it I will now think of the incredible young man you are and how wonderful Lutheran worship can be! It really touched me", he said. I was flaburgasted. He was going to put the service sheet into his scrapbook?? Really? Maybe everyone was not making up these coments. Maybe it truly was an experience that people felt God's presence in.
I think that when we bring somthing of ourselves to another environment to share, we want it exactly the same and want it to change people in the same way that it changed us. I know I put so many conditions on to how this evening worship would be recieved that I percieved it as a failure even before it ended. In truth, people do see how important somthing can be to you and will gladly take part in it. They will be changed....only in their own way. Holden Evening Prayer was a sucess for this place. People were rejuvinated and refreshingly suprised at how they found God in somthing new. That, I have finally figured out, was the whole point.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Going to Iona Just as I Am
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."
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."
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."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)