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Buicoas Le Dia

At the conclusion of the reading of Isaiah at today's St. Patrick's Day Mass at the Cathedral of St. Paul, we were instructed in how to respond after the reading in Gaelic: Buiocas Le Dia: "Thanks be to God." It has been my practice for the last several years to attend this worship on the Feast Day of St. Patrick helping remind me and those in attendance that this day is much more than shamrocks and leprechauns. It is the celebration of the life of a real person who took his faith seriously, took giving his life to God seriously. The mass comes complete with bagpipes of course and the procession of the Ancient Order of the Hibernians wearing colorful capes and feathery hats while carrying swords, real swords. The service is presided over by the Archbishop and all the beauty of a full Roman Catholic mass. The congregation is colorful as well in a multitude of greens and Irish knit sweaters. It is always a high point of the spring for me to attend this service.

My favorite part of the service comes just before the celebration of the Eucharist as the congregation sings 'Anthem for Ireland' words set to the tune of "Danny Boy". This tune alone tugs at the heart strings but the words for this rendition also always bring a little tear to my eye. And I'm not even Irish! 
    Oh land of love we bless thee gentle Mother
    Oh land of light fair jewel of the sea
    Oh land of joy where brother shall meet brother
    And all thy souls shall dwell in harmony
    And when the clouds of torment and of sorrow
    Flee with the dark at rising of the sun
    Hand shall clasp hand in happiness tomorrow
    And we shall toil together in God's work begun.

Whether a person is of Irish heritage or not, these are powerful words to sing, to embody. Each of us have been shaped, I believe, by the land where we were born, where we grew up. Whether in the country or the city, near mountains or lakes, rivers or deserts, the land has not only shaped us but given us the soil in which to plant our identities. For those who pursue the Holy or are pursued, the land from which we sprang also helps define our understanding of All that is bigger than our human self. The land that shapes us by love, by light, by joy helps us know who we are as workers with God in the unfolding of Creation,helps us 'clasp hands' with one another. 

In this work, which is our act of living, we can be gifted by an awareness of what it means to be a part of something much larger than house or office, of city or country. It is not a constant awareness which might be too much for any of us to handle. This awareness comes in glimmers and glimpses and may be accompanied, if we listen well, by music. It might be a tune that sounds a lot like "Danny Boy."

St. Patrick was said to have surrounded himself with words that began: 'I arise today through the strength of heaven.....' And don't we all? May the strength of heaven guide our feet this day and all those yet to come.  Buiocas Le Dia.

Easter Came Early

"I came that you might have life, and have it abundantly." John 10:10

Signs of spring are everywhere. As the snow has slowly melted into the ground, the greenness of spring is pushing its way up through rich, brown earth. This past weekend we drove through the rolling countryside of Wisconsin, past farmland itching to get going. I knew this because even in the large field of abandoned fall pumpkins, soggy and mushy from a winter under many inches of snow, I glimpsed green. All along the road there were very few patches of dirty brown snow. It had been replaced by wet soil and the soft new blades of early grass. Overhead countless gaggles of geese danced and undulated in the air making their way back to old haunts filled with food for starting new families. Still other flocks of birds seemed to be gathering in reunion spots only to lift off high in the air flying in a chaos of black formation.

Down on the lower Mississippi River eagles could be seen standing on the ice floes. In the sky above their brothers and sisters soared with majesty as if to say, "Look at me! I am your nation's treasured one." I don't think I will ever get accustomed to seeing eagles. At least I hope I won't. The day I cease to be awestruck at the sight of those soaring brown wings, that brilliant white head and tail, will be a sad day indeed. These magnificent birds, once nearly extinct, are also a sign of what happens when we humans rise to our best selves and choose to protect those more vulnerable. As we made changes in our environment that nearly killed these creatures off altogether, so we chose to make changes that would save this symbol of our freedom. Makes you wonder what else we might be capable of, what else might be changed for the common good, doesn't it?

Driving quietly along these roads, truly observing the Earth coming to life again, I thought of the Easter we will soon celebrate. I looked out at what had been dead,frozen ground and glimpsed the life that lay just below its surface. I squinted my eyes and saw the tinge of yellow-green that dances just at the tips of trees that even a few days ago stood cold and barren, sentinels against a gray sky. Even the heavens were edged with life inspiring movement....flapping wings,yellow sunshine and blue sky, a soft breeze that blew away the salt and sand accumulated over winter making room for what is to be born. With my soul eyes,  I witnessed the stone being rolled away from the tomb of winter and it made my heart sing an early 'alleluia!'

I know I am getting ahead of myself. March, after all, is the second snowiest month in Minnesota. But the truth is Easter always lives someplace within us and we long for it, must have it.  So when we have even a glimmer of its presence we stand at attention. And standing at attention in this season of Lent and all others is really what it is all about, isn't it? Staying awake to ways in which God shows up in the most unexpected places is our life's work. Giving ourselves over to noticing the daily resurrection moments, not only in the lives of others but in our own life as well, is a holy practice. If Lent teaches us anything it is that no matter how dark or dreary or despairing things might seem, rebirth is always possible. And that, my friends, is the good news.

So the invitation is to widen your eyes, open your heart and breathe deeply. New Life is on the way!

I See You

I may be one of the last people around to see the movie Avatar. I had this grand plan of seeing the movies nominated for Academy Awards before last Sunday's television broadcast but found I kept putting this one off in favor of others. I didn't make my goal of seeing all 10 nominated for best picture but more than I had seen in years past. Avatar was recommended by so many people because of its spiritual nature, its connection to the land and, of course, its cinematic beauty. I have never been much of a science fiction fan so this no doubt contributed to my procrastination. 

I won't go into a review of the movie. Those are abounding in newspapers and on the internet. Like most stories that deal with rich mythology, this one is up to interpretation by everyone who sees it. I will say that I found the fact that with so much creativity and revenue being poured into a spectacular visual feast, I found it sad that the imagination of the film makers could still only come up with war and destruction as a major theme, a major way of dealing with differences. Again, there are many interpretations as to the reason for this.

But what did strike me in the film was the use of three simple words: "I see you." This was the greeting given by the Nav'i beings. They would touch the chest, the heart space of another and say:"I see you." The greeting meant so much more than my eyes see you.... your body, your hair, your eyes, your clothing. It meant that 'I see what is deep within you.' My translation might be " I know you inside and out." 

What a lovely idea! Isn't this kind of being seen what we all long for? To be seen for who we really are. Not who the world wants to make us. Not with all the trappings of job, status, gender, ethnicity, religious affiliation, economic power. No. To be seen at the very core of who we are with its grace and grit, its joy and sorrow, its hope and humility, its flaws and cracks. Have you ever been seen in this deep way? How did it make you feel?

The gift of being seen, deeply known, is, I believe, a connection housed in the Sacred. It is the impetus of the phrase: Namaste....the Holy in me greets the Holy in you. To offer this greeting carries with it a huge vulnerability. To look deeply into the face of another who was also created in the image of God and to name that with great intention in the world, with the power of our voice, must change the very energy particles around us, must change our human DNA. So why don't we do it more? And mean it?

The last several days have been cloudy and rainy. The fog moved in this morning and settled like a blanket on the land outside my window. As I have been watching it dispel all morning, I have found myself squinting into the distance. Perhaps by noon the majority of it will have burned away or lifted into the higher heavens. But in my struggles to see further down the street, I thought of my need to be seen, really seen. I believe it is a human need that goes to our very core. And yet most of the time we stand in the fog that envelops us, some of which we have created ourselves. Standing in our foggy cloak we look longing into the unseen place, hoping, praying, someone will emerge and walk toward us with the words:"I see you." May it be so. May none of us go through any day without being truly seen by at least one other person. Without being seen by the Holy One.

      

Empty

"Today like ever day we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground."
~Rumi

Waking up empty. Did you wake up empty today? I am not talking necessarily about waking up with an empty stomach. It is probably a good sign when that happens. It means we did not eat so much yesterday that we are still full from a day of over indulgence. That is not the emptiness I am talking about. We certainly know there are hundreds of thousands of people who wake up with empty stomaches, denied the life-giving nutrition most of us take for granted. May God's blessing be upon them today.

No, I am talking about a different kind of emptiness. That nagging feeling that makes a home at the center of who we are, longing to be filled with....what? Purpose? Creativity? Hope? Understanding? Companionship? God? This emptiness is that deep knowing that something is missing from our lives. It can be ignored but not forever. It can be anesthetized but not for long. This kind of longing left unattended breeds fear. Never a good thing.

We can try to fill this emptiness with all kinds of things...food, drink, overwork, distractions of all kinds. But in the end it is a longing that will not let us go because it somehow points us to a fuller knowledge of who we are, whose we are. I believe that in some way this emptiness, this longing to be filled, almost always points us toward some distance we experience from Spirit. The Sufi poet Rumi suggests that we find our way to filling this longing, not through more knowledge or greater study but through allowing ourselves to do what we love. Sounds nice, doesn't it? 

When was the last time you did something you truly love? Maybe you are one those blessed people whose work allows them to do what they love every day. I feel that blessing in the work I do. But this 'what we love' and its beauty takes many forms. What beauty is blessing your life, filling up the emptiness you feel? Is it time to tend this soil before it becomes a matter of urgency?Perhaps it already has.

It is a rainy day today and promises to be so for several more days. As the earth is being washed of its winter dirt, preparing for the spring that will certainly come, it is a good time to reflect on what it is you truly love and all the beauty that produces. Allowing the rain to wash over whatever has accumulated, creating an emptiness, a longing waiting to be filled, it is an opportunity to connect once again to those things that fill us. Whether it is taking down an instrument to make music or picking up up a paint brush to paint or reaching out to hold a child as you read them a story or simply staring out the window into the middle distance, all these acts might be the one to bring beauty out of what you love. It would be a good thing to do not only for yourself but for the world. It would an act of gratitude. 

It would be a prayer.

Tell Me a Story

“Lest he should lose command over the tales he loved, he used to repeat them aloud when he thought no one was near, using the gesticulations and the emphasis…..as if he were once again the center of a fireside story-telling.” ~Alwin and Brinley Rees

 Stories. We are all made of stories. The stories of our families. The stories of our nation. The stories of our ancestry. The stories of the time in which we were born, our generational story. We are made of the stories we create about who we want to be and those that point to the reality of who we really are. There are stories in the freckles that powder our noses and the scares we carry on our knees. The clothing we dress in each morning carries the story of who we wish to portray to the world. Our stories are full of hope and failure, of ‘what ifs?’ and ‘why nots?’ And most stories are seasoned with a host of ‘maybes’.

 This Sunday if you happen into most Christian churches you will hear one of the primary stories of the tradition: the story of the prodigal son. I love this Sunday and hearing this story once again. I believe that it holds so much of what it means to understand ourselves as a child of God that, if we read this same scripture for a year of Sundays, we wouldn’t mine all it has to offer us. This story of the young man who flees his boring, regular old home for a life he believes to be better only to learn that, perhaps, the grass is not always greener, is our story. At some point or another of any given life, we have all been a prodigal.

 But the story is also about the faithful parent, the forgiving father who rejoices at his child’s return. This parent who undoubtedly spent many a waking hour, looking out the window, asking where he went wrong, hoping and praying for the child’s return is also a story most parents can relate to in some way. The connection of parent and child is one that is complicated and full of leavings and returnings.

 And then there is the character of the older child, the one who stayed at home to ‘do the right thing’ by his family. He was an obedient child, a cooperative child, the loyal child, the one who didn’t give his parents any trouble. One can only imagine the horror and the devastation of this ‘good’ child when his wild younger brother returns and the faithful parent throws a party in his honor. Or maybe you can imagine. Maybe you have lived it.

 Reading this story once again in preparation for Sunday, I am reminded of all the stories that shape us. I am reminded of how important it is to hear and to tell them over and over again. With each telling, if we are lucky, we hear them in new ways. As we have changed with each passing day…..which we do…..we are given the gift to experience the familiar in new ways. And so it goes with each retelling.

 What stories have shaped you? What stories do you need to hear once again because it is the right time? What stories are planted deep within you that call to you asking to be told to a whole new generation, in a whole new time?

 Tell me a story.

Revealed

"We have endured
The Order of Winter
The Hunger
The Winds
The Pain of Sickness
And lived on.....
Once again we shall
See the Snow melt
Taste the Flowering Sap
Touch the Budding Seeds
Smell the Whitening Flowers
Know the Renewal of Life."
(found beside a Boreal Forest display at the Museum of Man and Nature, Winnipeg, Manitoba.)
 

It is a time of revelation in Minnesota. As the sun shines and the temperatures warm, the multiple inches of snow has been melting slowly into the thawing ground. We are glad for this slow melt as it lessens the chance of spring floods in those areas prone to rising waters. But as the snow melts the great reveal begins.

 This revealing consists of all those things captured and held suspended in the layers of snow and ice over the winter months. Last week on my walks I saw many interesting items that are emerging from the snow. Aluminum cans of various brands and in a multiplicity of forms: flattened, ripped in jagged shreds, full and empty. Wrappers of all kinds: candy, gum, potato chip bags, a sliver of gummy bear bag, many tossed plastic bags from a variety of chain stores. Items once found in the mouth: gum, chewed and now thawing to present a walking hazard, cigarettes, some still intact as if the sign of a kicking the habit moment, others fully smoked down to the filter. Clothing: a pair of jeans, a stray tennis shoe, a once white t-shirt now mutilated by car tires, a blue t-shirt flat as a pancake but in good condition. A fully preserved pigeon, feathers still glittering oil slick colors, lying within the thawing snowbank as if it had made its nest there and was only sleeping. Not far from the pigeon, a pink pacifier, lost to its no-doubt anxious owner.

These treasures I noticed caused me to wonder about what else might be revealed as these days of winter melt into the new birth of spring. What are the things in my life that have been hidden beneath the ice and snow of this winter? What parts of my living have been frozen in time waiting to be picked up and tossed as the waste it now is? Or what is waiting to be found, washed, cared for and nurtured back to life? Like the pink pacifier owner, what have I,perhaps, outgrown? If we are awake and aware,these revelations of melting can bring great change, new life.

The slow melt will continue over the next several days. We've even been promised an early rain which will begin the clean up toward spring's greening. But before we get to that point, perhaps it is wise to take stock of what is being revealed. With eyes wide open our spring might take on a whole new dimension that could make all the difference in our lives and in the life of the world. 

As I understand the season of Lent, that is really the point.

Journey

"Every long journey is made in small steps,
Is made of courage, the feeling you get
When you know it's been waiting, been waiting for you.
The journey's the only thing you want to do........

~Ann Reed

I've been singing these words over and over in my head today. I know that it is partially because I am anticipating Ann Reed's concert at church tomorrow night.We are looking forward to her 'Songs of Hope' concert, an opportunity to bathe in words and music that will lift us above whatever is dragging us down.  I am singing them also, I think, because I am very aware of this journeying time we are in. The journey of winter to spring. The journey of Lent to Easter. The journey of darkness to light. So many journeys.....

Of course, we are all on journeys all the time. The journey of our day, our year, our life. We just rarely think of our living in quite this way. But when we really allow ourselves to be in the 'journeying mind' each day can be an adventure, a series of steps toward something more. Many people I know are on significant life journeys.They are dealing with illness, death, losses of many kinds, journeys they never intended to take. But life showed up and off they went, down the road. Still others are waiting for new babies, graduations, weddings, the joy and promise of birth. Perhaps more joyful journeys but filled with great change nonetheless. 

This journey becomes even a greater experience when we are awake and aware of those who travel by our side. Ann Reed's lyrics continue:" And we cannot know what you go through or see through your eyes but we will surround you with pride undisguised. In any direction, whatever you view,you're taking our love there with you."

Isn't that the blessing we all seek? To be understood for our unique experience and affirmed in it. No one can really know what our journey feels like, how the experience is for us. It is a great gift to be surrounded by people who are filled with pride at our triumphs and with compassion at our failures. It is a great gift to travel in the love of others.

Who are you surrounding with love this day? Perhaps it is a family member, a close friend or co-worker. But maybe, just maybe, it might be the overworked sales clerk, the harried teacher at your child's school, the bus driver. What might the world be like if we surrounded, not only those close to us, but those we simply encounter with the same compassion and love ? Like Tinkerbell sprinkling fairy dust, we have the opportunity to spread well wishes on the path of every fellow traveler we meet. I'd like that, wouldn't you? 

Simple Life

"Maintaining a complicated life is.....one of the best ways we have to avoid looking at some of the larger questions. ~Elaine St. James, from Living the Simple Life

Last week I was about to throw away a newsletter I'd received when I saw this quote at the bottom of the page. I had to smile. I thought I could get away with pitching this piece of paper but it wasn't finished with me yet. There was a little message meant just for me and it was going to find its way to me no matter what. I thought of all the ways I perpetuate the complicated life. Too busy for this or that. Saying yes to too many obligations. Allowing myself to be consumed by the seemingly urgent while ignoring what is truly important. It is a common dis-ease of our 21st century life. 

Creating a complicated life does, indeed, allow us to hedge the larger questions. If my life is too full, too busy, too overbooked, too....you can fill in the blank.....it is very easy to never get to the larger questions of life. It becomes, at least for me, easy to continually tick away at the to-do list than take the time to grapple with the bigger issues that press at my heart, that stir my soul.  It is also easier to continue to put off till tomorrow, when things are less complicated, those questions that really are calling to me at a deeper level, those experiences that bring me pleasure, fulfill me. Living the complicated life is, after all, exhausting. 

What is complicating your day? What is complicating your life? Are there dreams and goals you have been putting off until the time when life is less complicated? Sometimes we have no control over the complications that come our way. They simply need to be dealt with in the here and now.For those times we offer our prayers. But other times we create complications to keep us from taking the risk, seeing the bigger picture, taking stock, asking the hard questions. It is important to recognize the difference in these complications of life.

Nicola Slee wrote this grace for distracted eaters: "Today my food has no flavor. I do not notice what the weather is doing. I eat distractedly, consumed by my own absorptions. Still I make this prayer and my lips utter Thanks." Whether we describe our living as complicated or distracted, it is my belief that we all want to taste the glory that is our food. We all want to look outside our windows and notice the blazing sun and the melting icicles. We all want to arrive at the end of another day of life, which is pure gift, knowing that our mouths can form a 'thanks'. 

And so, perhaps it is a good idea to clear out a little space where complications cannot live. Five seconds, five minutes, five hours, five days to rest in the larger questions. Whatever we can muster that will get us to that place called gratitude. I have to believe it will make a difference, not only to us, but to our world.

Just What I Needed

Yesterday morning I was making my way to the office along my usual route. I was taking in the piles of dirty snow and general grayness of day's beginning. I was listening to my usual radio station which was delivering its normal banter. I was thinking of the details of the day ahead with a certain 'ho-hum' nature. It was Monday after all and I knew what every Monday holds, which meetings will happen when, the cleanup of the aftermath of any given Sunday. Plainly put, it was shaping up to be a regular, normal, nothing-out-of-the-ordinary Monday.

And then, boom, my eyes beheld a giant lemon! Sitting in the driveway of a house I pass numerous times during any given week, there sat a giant lemon shaped structure. It was the size of a small camper or, dare I say it, ice fishing house! It was shiny and looked new. It sat on a nice green platform as if this giant lemon had fallen from an even more enormous lemon tree onto a bed of newly cut grass. The brilliant yellow of the lemon was such a shock to my eyes,now so accustomed to the blur of winter white, that I shook my head to see if I was hallucinating. But no, there is was a giant lemon showing itself on the first day of March. It seemed to say:"Look out! Summer is on its way!" On further inspection I saw a window in the lemon, obviously an entrance for people to order lemonade and an exit for the sweet, sugary drink of warm days. 

I laughed out loud. This unexpected sight set the tone for my day. It helped to remind me that there are surprises waiting to delight us, to jar us out of the routine we cling to. These surprises can bring us the gift of seeing what has been too familiar, boring even, in new and exciting ways. It is the basis of all creativity to see the world in this way. It is, I like to believe, the way children still walk in the world. It is a practice most adults need to recapture to help them see the world that has become too static in new ways. Seeing the giant lemon certainly did that to my usual Monday.

What surprises have you seen lately? What experiences have jarred you out of the routine of a typical winter, a regular work day? We cannot manufacture surprises and the gifts they bring. But we can all walk into each day with eyes wide open to what the world might bring. The giant lemon helped me to be open to other little touches that made my Monday, the first day of March, a day like no other. It was a day that held lots of laughter with my co-workers, big belly laughs. It also held a few tears as I met with someone who had lost a loved one, as we planned to keep their memory. As I read a wonderful book about feeding people and the true meaning of communion, I noticed that some refraction of light had caused a rainbow to form on the surface of my creamed tea. It was so beautiful and then I drank from my tea cup. I like to think that rainbow is now inside of me. I came home to find the amaryllis that is reaching toward its fullness even taller than yesterday. So many things to notice on any given day. 

And to think it all started with a giant lemon........It was just what I needed.

"Mystery is at the heart of creativity. That, and surprise."~Julia Cameron

New Pentecost

I had the privilege yesterday of spending time at two events led by J.Philip Newell, author, poet and former warden of the Iona community on the island of Iona, Scotland. I have long been a follower of his work which finds its home in Celtic spirituality helping readers to reclaim some ancient wisdom of the early faithful. It was an inspiring day, filled with hope and new insights for these renewing days of Lent. While most church leaders can paint a fairly bleak picture of the future of the faithful, Newell describes what he believes to be a 'New Pentecost'. From his eye view he sees the 'Spirit hovering over us bringing a 'new consciousness of Oneness.' His descriptions of co-leading retreats with Jewish and Muslim faith leaders are humbling. The ways in which he shapes words and stories to show the unity of different faith traditions rather than their division fills me with hope and excitement. Truly, as a world, we can no longer continue to further divide and alienate one another. We see the fruits of this kind of destruction all around us, in our churches, in our governments, in our warring, in our brokenness. 

Perhaps, like J. Philip Newell, we might embrace the idea, the hope, that we are in the midst of a 'New Pentecost'. Perhaps the Spirit is moving in ways that, like the story of Pentecost in the Book of Acts, shines the spotlight on people being able to understand one another even though they spoke different languages. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Wouldn't that be a sure sign of the kin-dom of God in our midst? I can imagine Israelis and Palestinians talking across fences seeing, not the long years of divisions, but the human longing in one another's faces. I can dream of seeing all the places of war in our world being healed by conversations about how both sides love their children, their partners, their homeland and each one understanding how more alike they are they they ever imagined. I can see our politicians opening their hearts, minds and very spirits to pursuing the common good, laying aside their party language for words that move toward healing and a renewed sense of what it means to be a nation that cares for the least, the lost and the left out. I imagine a time when young men won't need to join a gang to find identity and belonging but will be so secure in their home and school that they will stand strong in knowing they are unique and blessed children of God.

This kind of systemic change will take more than legislation. petitions and votes. It will take a 'New Pentecost', a stirring of the Spirit so full and vibrant that there will be no turning back. We will have understood one another so fully and will have seen the Holy in the other's eyes. I pray J. Philip Newell is right. I pray that what he has been speaking of and experiencing is signaling a new way of being in the world that allows us to see our unity, not only with one another, but with the One who breathed us all into being regardless of the color of our skin, the faith we proclaim, the political party we support, the size of our checkbook, the place we call home. 

As we finished our day with worship at the lovely Pilgrim Lutheran Church in St. Paul, we sang this chant from the ancient Gaelic writings Carmina Gadelica: 'May God's goodness be yours, and well and seven times well. May you spend your lives.' I woke this morning with those words still echoing in my head and my heart. Perhaps this new Pentecost will allow these words to be the silent greeting we offer to all we meet. May we spend our lives, literally, embracing the goodness of Creation that is our gift. And in this embrace may we hold one another dear, as dearly as we are held by the One who breathes over us. 

"When the day of Pentecost has come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them,and a tongue rested on each of them.All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.Amazed and astonished they asked, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? .....All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, "What does this mean?" Acts 2 selected

Have a blessed weekend.............................