by Kirstin Paisley, cross-posted from my other blog.
I’m just back from Reading Week; rather, I came back yesterday. I spent the first weekend of it at the Ranch, hosting and having a really great time. I walked outside as much as I could. It took me forever to make it up the hill to the peace pole, but I got there. For the first time ever, I didn’t leave a prayer—I just sat with everything around me. And I walked around the refectory playing count-the-friends; I knew at least somebody in each of the groups.
Came back that Sunday night to do field ed at the Night Ministry. Again, I’m in the right place. I love the work, and the people. The hours suck, but I knew that.
I spent the rest of the week with A. in the valley. I really wanted and needed to catch up on work—but instead I took a lot of naps. I don’t regret them.
I would have stayed this weekend and taken care of the cats, or perhaps gone back to the Ranch, but I had to come back for another training last night, and Elisa’s funeral this afternoon. She died on Monday. I miss her, and I’m more sad now than I had been. The service itself was wonderful—though crowded, and hot. I really, really wish I’d seen her more. Last I saw her was about six months ago, at church, shortly after my own diagnosis. I came back in the fall, busy and sick, and kept meaning to send her a card but didn’t do it. I wish now that I had just seen her once in the last while.
I’m not even sure what I want to thank her for—we weren’t even all that close. But she had a way of seeing people. And, she was funny as hell. In a sly, dry, blunt and honest way.
I know it’s a cliché, but you only have people while you have them. Notice the gifts all around you. This is what matters. Give your love, and your time.
I escaped a much more dangerous diagnosis by sheer dumb luck. I had the tumor (stage II melanoma) for at least two years. Nobody was expecting me to get cancer; least of all myself. It happens. Elisa died. I live.
Love the people around you. Be a gift to them.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Priesthood of All Believers
Tommy Dillon
In her book Leaving Church Barbara Brown Taylor chronicles her spiritual journey as she decided to leave the local parish priesthood and enter a life of teaching. She candidly struggles with her own second-guessing and the difficulties in leaving a calling that she loved, but that had drained life from her. In talking about the loss of her identity she writes:
“A priest is a priest, no matter where she happens to be. Her job is to recognize the holiness in things and hold them up to God.”
If you have been around St. Aidan's and the Episcopal Church very long, you probably have heard the saying “the ministers are the ones in the pews.” There is an ancient belief of the Church called “the priesthood of all believers.” In very simple terms it means that no matter your profession (teacher, mechanic, pharmacist) your vocation is to serve God and to serve neighbor. So no matter if you have been ordained or not, your vocation in Barbara Brown Taylor’s words is to “recognize the holiness in things and hold them up to God.” What an amazing calling! What an amazing opportunity!
So what is it in your life that is holy that you need to hold up to God? What is it in the lives of those around you that is holy and that you need to hold up to God? As people of faith, it is our sacred calling; it is our sacred vocation to be witnesses to all that is holy around us.
In a time where our nation seems to be in the grips of fear-mongers, perhaps we can rise above that and be the ministers that God has called each of us to be. Perhaps we can respond in faith, rather than fear.
In her book Leaving Church Barbara Brown Taylor chronicles her spiritual journey as she decided to leave the local parish priesthood and enter a life of teaching. She candidly struggles with her own second-guessing and the difficulties in leaving a calling that she loved, but that had drained life from her. In talking about the loss of her identity she writes:
“A priest is a priest, no matter where she happens to be. Her job is to recognize the holiness in things and hold them up to God.”
If you have been around St. Aidan's and the Episcopal Church very long, you probably have heard the saying “the ministers are the ones in the pews.” There is an ancient belief of the Church called “the priesthood of all believers.” In very simple terms it means that no matter your profession (teacher, mechanic, pharmacist) your vocation is to serve God and to serve neighbor. So no matter if you have been ordained or not, your vocation in Barbara Brown Taylor’s words is to “recognize the holiness in things and hold them up to God.” What an amazing calling! What an amazing opportunity!
So what is it in your life that is holy that you need to hold up to God? What is it in the lives of those around you that is holy and that you need to hold up to God? As people of faith, it is our sacred calling; it is our sacred vocation to be witnesses to all that is holy around us.
In a time where our nation seems to be in the grips of fear-mongers, perhaps we can rise above that and be the ministers that God has called each of us to be. Perhaps we can respond in faith, rather than fear.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Let hope be your mantra
Tommy Dillon
If you are like me and listen to the radio in the mornings and watch the news each night, you are probably in the uneasy place of wondering what is going on with our economy and how bad things are going to get before they get better. When all we hear are the doomsayers that preach a diet of fear, it is easy to be afraid. Without even knowing it, we can become anxious, and fearful, and disheartened, and worried as fear becomes our mantra: fear of the future, fear that there will not be enough, fear of what might happen next … fear!
So, instead of letting fear be your mantra, why not make a choice for hope, for possibility and for promise? Why not choose life? So, I offer to you today an ancient prayer, first sung by the Psalmist. It carried within it the joys of loving God and knowing that nothing, not even death, could separate the one who sang it from the love of God.
When the news tells you that we need to be afraid, very afraid, and that there will never be enough—enough gasoline, enough money, enough love, enough hope—and fear takes hold of your heart and your imagination, I invite you to pray with me:
Repeat it until the fear subsides.
The real question for people of faith in these days is whether we will worship Wall Street or worship God. I, for one, choose the latter because I am convinced that, in the end, God will be with me in life, in death, in life beyond death. So why not throw your lot in with God right now and trust that God’s love will always be enough, in the good times and in the bad, in the light and in the darkness, in life and in death?
If you are like me and listen to the radio in the mornings and watch the news each night, you are probably in the uneasy place of wondering what is going on with our economy and how bad things are going to get before they get better. When all we hear are the doomsayers that preach a diet of fear, it is easy to be afraid. Without even knowing it, we can become anxious, and fearful, and disheartened, and worried as fear becomes our mantra: fear of the future, fear that there will not be enough, fear of what might happen next … fear!
So, instead of letting fear be your mantra, why not make a choice for hope, for possibility and for promise? Why not choose life? So, I offer to you today an ancient prayer, first sung by the Psalmist. It carried within it the joys of loving God and knowing that nothing, not even death, could separate the one who sang it from the love of God.
When the news tells you that we need to be afraid, very afraid, and that there will never be enough—enough gasoline, enough money, enough love, enough hope—and fear takes hold of your heart and your imagination, I invite you to pray with me:
“For the LORD is good; God’s steadfast love endures for ever.”
Repeat it until the fear subsides.
The real question for people of faith in these days is whether we will worship Wall Street or worship God. I, for one, choose the latter because I am convinced that, in the end, God will be with me in life, in death, in life beyond death. So why not throw your lot in with God right now and trust that God’s love will always be enough, in the good times and in the bad, in the light and in the darkness, in life and in death?
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Not an April Fool's Joke
Tommy Dillon
Today is April Fool’s Day and I was thinking about a reading from the Hebrew scripture featuring one of the Bible’s most famous stories. The prophet Jonah, as you will recall, had been called by God to go preach the message of repentance to the people of Nineveh (The Hebrew people’s arch- enemies of the time). Jonah wanted no part of the plan and sailed off in the opposite direction to Tarshish. A storm at sea and other plot twists resulted in Jonah’s being swallowed up by the huge sea creature and finally unceremoniously regurgitated on the shores of, you guessed it, Nineveh, where the reluctant prophet begrudgingly delivered the sermon that would result in the salvation of his enemies. It was God’s ultimate April Fool’s joke.
Like many movies today, Jonah’s principle story line is often overwhelmed and forgotten by the spectacular special effects. The great fish, whale, sea monster or ocean creature, depending on which translation you follow, is a much more memorable image to most of us than the picture of some wet rebellious guy delivering a sermon. But the real plot is about the futility of resisting God’s call, as well as one of the First Testament’s greatest examples of loving our enemies. And the fish turns out to be not a monster, but a symbol of God’s provision for our welfare even when we think we have sunk below our last hope.
Is it time God sent a great fish into your life? We are surrounded these days with depressing, fear-based news and dire predictions that tend to make us forget that God has calmly been waiting for us in our depths well before we ever knew we would go there. And like Jonah, regardless of our fears, doubts or outright rebellions, God’s plans for us will be accomplished in ways beyond our imaginings. That’s no April Fool’s joke. It’s a promise.
Today is April Fool’s Day and I was thinking about a reading from the Hebrew scripture featuring one of the Bible’s most famous stories. The prophet Jonah, as you will recall, had been called by God to go preach the message of repentance to the people of Nineveh (The Hebrew people’s arch- enemies of the time). Jonah wanted no part of the plan and sailed off in the opposite direction to Tarshish. A storm at sea and other plot twists resulted in Jonah’s being swallowed up by the huge sea creature and finally unceremoniously regurgitated on the shores of, you guessed it, Nineveh, where the reluctant prophet begrudgingly delivered the sermon that would result in the salvation of his enemies. It was God’s ultimate April Fool’s joke.
Like many movies today, Jonah’s principle story line is often overwhelmed and forgotten by the spectacular special effects. The great fish, whale, sea monster or ocean creature, depending on which translation you follow, is a much more memorable image to most of us than the picture of some wet rebellious guy delivering a sermon. But the real plot is about the futility of resisting God’s call, as well as one of the First Testament’s greatest examples of loving our enemies. And the fish turns out to be not a monster, but a symbol of God’s provision for our welfare even when we think we have sunk below our last hope.
Is it time God sent a great fish into your life? We are surrounded these days with depressing, fear-based news and dire predictions that tend to make us forget that God has calmly been waiting for us in our depths well before we ever knew we would go there. And like Jonah, regardless of our fears, doubts or outright rebellions, God’s plans for us will be accomplished in ways beyond our imaginings. That’s no April Fool’s joke. It’s a promise.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
What do you do after Easter?
Tommy Dillon
On Easter Day we heard the story of Mary Magdalene and another Mary going to the tomb early in the morning and encountering the Risen Christ, who said to the women: “Do not be afraid: go and tell my disciples to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” With that sentence the reading ends. But I always wonder, "What do you do after Easter?" After you have encountered the Risen Christ, after you have celebrated the resurrection, after you have told all your friends that love and life have won the day, what next?
Many of us will return to the routine of everyday life. Churches that were filled to overflowing on Easter Sunday will be half empty the Sunday after Easter. Why do you think that is so? Maybe it is because so many of us believe that the Easter message is just too good to be true. How could it be that love really overcomes hate, when there is still so much hate in the world? How could it be that hope wins out over heartache, when there is still so much heartache in the world? How could it be that life actually conquers death when all of us still die? I suppose the answer to those questions is where faith is born.
The Gospel of Matthew didn’t end with the Risen Christ telling the women to go and tell the disciples to go to Galilee. No, the story goes on to say that the eleven disciples went to Galilee, where they saw Jesus whose final words to them were, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Notice that Jesus did not say, “And remember, now there will be no more hate, no more heartache, no more death.” No, he said, “I am with you always.” Maybe the real resurrection happens in our lives when we embrace the reality that no moment of our lives, no breath we take, no joy or heartache, no death of someone we love, nothing happens that God is not with us.
So, tell me, how would living that truth change your life?
On Easter Day we heard the story of Mary Magdalene and another Mary going to the tomb early in the morning and encountering the Risen Christ, who said to the women: “Do not be afraid: go and tell my disciples to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” With that sentence the reading ends. But I always wonder, "What do you do after Easter?" After you have encountered the Risen Christ, after you have celebrated the resurrection, after you have told all your friends that love and life have won the day, what next?
Many of us will return to the routine of everyday life. Churches that were filled to overflowing on Easter Sunday will be half empty the Sunday after Easter. Why do you think that is so? Maybe it is because so many of us believe that the Easter message is just too good to be true. How could it be that love really overcomes hate, when there is still so much hate in the world? How could it be that hope wins out over heartache, when there is still so much heartache in the world? How could it be that life actually conquers death when all of us still die? I suppose the answer to those questions is where faith is born.
The Gospel of Matthew didn’t end with the Risen Christ telling the women to go and tell the disciples to go to Galilee. No, the story goes on to say that the eleven disciples went to Galilee, where they saw Jesus whose final words to them were, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Notice that Jesus did not say, “And remember, now there will be no more hate, no more heartache, no more death.” No, he said, “I am with you always.” Maybe the real resurrection happens in our lives when we embrace the reality that no moment of our lives, no breath we take, no joy or heartache, no death of someone we love, nothing happens that God is not with us.
So, tell me, how would living that truth change your life?
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