Don’t flay the sheep

Death, Taxes, and the Month of May (Or, why my retreat is perfectly timed)

We’ve had a series of big days. Taxes, of course. Erik’s grandfather died last week, so travel and family. Canceling my plans for a conference (shout out to Calvin College for being fabulous about refunding the registration. I love you guys!). Good rumblings in the Erik-employment department. An earthquake we didn’t feel. Zora learned how to pull a dress over head, exposing her belly to the world. Road trip and hotel stay with a toddler. A few temper tantrums (at least one of them mine).

And there are big days coming. Next week is Youth Sunday (i.e. my youth group does the worship service. Yes, this involves A LOT of preparation.) My May includes:  confirmation and all its prep; a car wash; a sermon; summer trip orientations; ending Sunday School; a one-day-multi-sensory-Sunday School experience to write; VBS planning; and about thirteen other things that I’m forgetting.

This means that the New Pastor’s Retreat I head to tomorrow is perfectly or horridly timed, depending on how you look at it. Either, horrid timing because there is oh so much prep work to get moving on. Or, perfect because I desperately need some quiet time away before the storm hits.

July, you look so calm and appealing from here. (Oh, wait…I think we are planning to move to a new place in July when our lease runs out. Never mind.)

Coming attractions: come back later this week for a fabulous video of Zora running through her entire repertoire of animal noises. The kitty is particularly impressive.

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Da Mayor: benvolent dictator, always good for a quote

Mayor Daley is one of the things I love about Chicago. In theory, I think he’s a bit of a dictator. But, some of the decisions he makes, I kind of agree with.

Plus, he’s always good for an absolutely brilliant quote.

Yesterday, police shot a cougar that was wandering around Roscoe Village (a residential neighborhood on the north side). Cougars are not “normal” there. At all. I’m not usually for shooting animals, but the thing was wandering around a day care center, cruising the sidewalks, etc.

Some people are upset about the shooting. Not Daley. Speaking what might actually be common sense, he said the following (and, please, to get the full effect, imagine a thick Chicago accent):

Now, I just want to tell you, if the cougar attacked a child, they’d sue the city because the police officer didn’t do their job. So everybody second guesses, you know. So let the cougar run around and attack children. Everybody would be filing lawsuits, and yelling at the police and all the local officials. . . . Too bad that we didn’t have an animal care and control personnel. [They] were en route to the scene. But again you have to make individual decisions. I didn’t see a neighbor run out and grab it and say, ‘Oh I love you’ and bring it in the house. This is unbelievable. I mean, I just, I just. . . . Don’t worry about it.

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I wish these pictures were no longer relevant

I wish this photo-essay only dealt with issues that were long past in our country, that the flag was something we could look at without any squeamishness about what our country stands for, and what we actually do and how we actually act as a nation.

Unfortunately, by the time you get to the end of the essay, the last image is just too recent.

It makes me think of a bumper sticker I saw once: “I love my country, but I think we need to see other people.”

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Perservation of the Saints

I heard someone use the term “perservation” today. Is that really a word? Word’s spellcheck says “no”. Not that Microsoft is the final authority on words, particularly theological ones.

I think he meant “perseverance.”

I’m a big fan of perseverance. Mostly because I’m not a big perseverer myself. And so the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints has particular resonance with me…I interpret it to mean that God won’t let go of me, rather than me having to cling on to God through sheer will power.

Maybe I’ve been too much surrounded by Calvinists who use perseverance in a theological sense, but I wondered if this guy was using perservation because it sounded more scientific.

I think we Calvinists should stick with “perseverance of the saints” rather than “perservation of the saints”. It’s just too close a slip from there to “preservation of the saints”, which suggests long lines of Presbyterians and Reformed folks outside of Botox clinics. (Speaking of which, my gynecologist’s office now offers botox. Really? Like to make your uterus look younger?)

I did manage to do some persevering today, but it was only to visit THREE grocery stores on a hunt for fresh lemongrass. I settled for dried. I really needed that lemongrass because I’ve got the beginnings of a whopper of a cold/cough thing, and all I could think about eating today was a big bowl of really spicy Thai soup. The dried did the trick.

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Memory Work

Let me start by saying: I think memorizing Scripture is a spiritual practice that we have lost, and one we should regain. I’m a horrible memorizer, and most passages I know are snippets from Bible passages set to music, or parts of a repeated liturgy. And, while I would love to be the kind of person who was able to memorize and deliver the whole sermon on the mount, I am just not that person. Not now. Maybe in my resurrection body? I don’t know.

As with all practices, there are some who it works for and some who it doesn’t. And there’s so much baggage right now around the way we churches forced memorization on our young folk and turned it into something of a chore, or rewarded the kids who could do it and made the ones who couldn’t feel lousy.

So (gulp) this year, I axed the Bible memorization requirements from confirmation. I wanted them to engage with scripture. And, instead of two verses preselected for kids, I planned to let them pick their own.

I had high hopes: music composed, dramas performed, beautiful art projects, and maybe, for some kids, memorization. But tonight, that whole project reached its final moment. I’m not sure I did such a  great job of working with kids on this through the year, so in guilt, I told them to pick one verse.

And I mostly got collages and drawings, comic strips, a few story re-writes, and one memorization.

I left feeling like I hadn’t lived up to what I envisioned. But then I thought, “Hey, wait a minute: a roomful of 14 year olds spent nearly an hour thinking, talking, scheming, planning, drawing, writing, the whole time focussed on one snatch of the Bible that they had picked.

So maybe they will remember the David and Goliath story, or Noah, or Psalm 121. And I can live with that.

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Reading, reading, reading

I’m thinking about books.

Heidi’s got a good post about the book situation at her house. (Our house is similar…between a pastor an an ex-grad student…but worse because Erik and I are a little less organized and have a little less space than Tim and Heidi.)

And some blogging friends, prodded by Alex,  have been carefully tracking their reading since January.

I haven’t been tracking here, but I’m realizing I’ve done better with reading in the last few months. Maybe not as much heavy duty theology as I think I should be reading, but here’s a rundown of books I’ve read in whole or put away significant portions of in the last couple of months:

Much of my reading has been aided by the reading list for this conference (two weeks and I’m there!).

1. Open House, Elizabeth Berg
2. Fieldwork,  Mischa Berlinski
3. Imposter, Davis Bunn
4. Pearl, Mary Gordon
5. The Known World, Edward P. Jones
6. The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint, Brady Udall

I also started reading mysteries again.

1.  Strong Poison and Five Red Herrings, Dorothy L. Sayers
2. Three Bags Full, Leonie Swan
3. A few of the Kate Fansler mysteries by Amanda Cross

And random other things:

1. A Slender Grace, Rod Jellema
2. Exclusion and Embrace, Miroslav Volf (and, true confession,about 3 chapters, not the whole thing, but, hey, it has to count for something)
3. Under the Banner of Heaven, Jon Krakauer
4. The Return of the Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen

Since I haven’t been keeping a perfect list, I think there are a few more out there that I’m forgetting.

But 13 books isn’t bad. I feel pretty good about that. If you’re wondering where I find the time, well, I don’t clean my house very well.

I always wonder if I should be reading more heavy-duty theology. But the truth is, I’m still (5 years later) feeling a little burnt out on academic reading since seminary. And, I find that the theology of everyday life is much clearer in novels. I think it keeps my imagination fresher.

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One week later

Easter being early this year has thrown me off a little bit. Now that it’s over and done with, I think I have early-Easter-withdrawal. Usually, the crazy business of May (confirmation, year-end youth group, Sunday School wrap-ups, fitting-it-all-in before summer break) takes over soon after Easter. So soon that I barely notice that Easter is over.

And, yes, for the liturgical snobs among you, I know that Easter really goes on for several weeks. But, let’s be honest, as my colleague Bart pointed out in his sermon last Sunday, the lillies, the trumpets, the full-stop organ pieces, are gone the next week.

But this past week, I can only explain my lackadaisical crabbiness by saying I had some kind of Easter withdrawal.  I’ve felt tired and uninterested.

The weather is not helping, either. We’ve gone from living with ice floes on our yards from a constant freeze-melt cycle to gray, cloudy, wet, and blah. With just a few tantalizing days of sun in between, just to make the grayness that much worse.

Last night, I was dreading youth group meetings, but then things went fairly well: 24 junior highers spent some serious time thinking about the Apostles Creed (although, I didn’t foresee this problem at one of the learning stations with the junior high group: 10 minutes into the meeting, I hear one kid say, “These eggshells smell really bad when you hold them over the votive candles.” There is nothing junior high boys won’t try to set on fire, is there?); and the high school turn out was small, but I don’t care one bit, because they were a lovely group and they talked passionately and thought deeply about the issue of violence.

As far as I can tell, what I really need is an excellent nap. And maybe some good weather.

I think I just need a really good nap.

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Saturday

We are done with the difficult worship: the last supper, the blackness of Good Friday, and the prep for Easter is mostly over: the lillies are lined up and ready, the Easter banners are up, and this morning, we’ll unleash a herd of kids for an easter egg hunt in the church (outside, normally, but inside today because we’ve got 5 inches of snow).

Zora is with grandma and grandpa, and her Easter dress is ready folded neatly in her bag with tights and shoes and everything she needs to look pretty. I have a new blouse to wear with my gray suit. My prayer for Easter morning is written. There are no youth group meetings tomorrow. The only left for me is to bake a cake for family dinner tomorrow. I should probably clean…I’ve got the chance and there are a few corners that could use it.

After two days filled with church work and worship preparation, it feels off to have a day filled with ordinary things.  Shouldn’t we all be huddled at home, or maybe packing off to a monastic retreat?

It seems strange: today, we go about our business and wait for tomorrow.  I wonder: if the men ran from the cross, scared, confused, afraid, if they scattered and regathered in hidden rooms, if they couldn’t bring themselves to come out until Jesus came and beckoned them, they did something out of the ordinary those days. A horrible, sick-to-your-stomach out of the ordinary. But something to acknowledge the event none-the-less.

But the women, the ones who stayed at the cross, the Marys who helped prepare the body, the followers who were tied to homes and couldn’t follow, there were things they had to do, everyday tasks that had to be done, children to bathe and meals to cook, floors to sweep, friends to visit, bread to bake. And they did those things in a fog (not knowing what Sunday morning would bring), but they did them. Like breathing, going on with what had to be done.

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Oh, please let this be the end of the snow

It snowed last night. It’s still snowing. Come on already!

But, I have very good reason to hope this is the last snow:

This morning, we packed Zora up to go spend the weekend with Grandma and Grandpa. (We’ll reunite at Easter dinner, after  all the hub-bub at church has died down.)

She walked to the car, plodded through the snow on the way, and wound up with some of the white stuff on her boots.

Then, in her carseat, she proceeded to pick snow off her boots (the bottoms, mind you) and eat it. Repeatedly. Her narration of the event (’now is snow in her lexicon):

“‘now, ‘now….MMMMMM.”

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Random Catch Up

It’s time to do a catch-up!

1. I’ve got a sermon that has to go up…it’s a week overdue on the blog. I’m debating if it might be time to put up sermons in mp3 format only, but I know sometimes I have congregants who ask for the text and it’s so much easier to direct them to the blog. On the other hand, mp3 is so much less prone to plagaraization. Any thoughts?
2. Stupid moment of the decade:  For about 2 months I’ve had my mom’s sewing machine on loan…and little projects have been piling up (recycled felted sweaters and hats, a quilt, mending, etc.) because I could not get the thing to work right. Nothing helped. I bought new needles, I readjusted everything, but stitches were skipping, thread was breaking, aghhh…I have never sworn so much at a machine in my life. Finally, two nights ago, I had an epiphany. I was setting the needle in BACKWARDS. Honestly, what is wrong with me? This is the machine I learned to sew on. This problem solved, I think I am entering a new period of sewing creativity. And maybe it will even result in me actually posting some pictures of a few things for Zora.
3. Remember the anti-spread campaign? Well, I just didn’t stick with it and things kept spreading. In February, I decided to take extreme measures and signed up for a certain weight loss program. 15 pounds down. How cool is that? My pants fit again, but they think I should loose a little more…they’re probably right, but then I will be faced with the dilemma of buying new pants. I started the whole thing as a way to save money because I was having to buy new bigger pants. I guess buying new smaller pants is a whole different banana.
4. It’s Holy Week. I don’t feel too busy, but that’s the joy of working on a multipastor staff. Not to say that I’m not busy, but I’m grateful for doing this with a group of supporting players (including my parents–Zora has basically moved in with them for the week.)
5. I do feel dragged down by the stuff some of my congregation has to go through right now. I’m saying alot of “kyries” right now for people who are sick, dying, struggling, full of drama, etc. It struck me during a reading of the Passion last Sunday when I looked out at them and saw so many who were shouldering a whole lot right now.
6. Want to get a sneek-peek at Fox Valley’s Good Friday service? Check out my post on Fidelia’s Sisters. I’ve got an article about the Good Friday liturgy I wrote.

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