revnancyduncan

It’s snowing. No, the snow is stopping.  But the roads are still snowy. Driveways haven’t been plowed. But little snow is predicted between now and tomorrow afternoon. Some people should stay home and stay safe. No heroics are necessary. Others will want to get out in the pause between storms. The snow is a stunning display of creation. Let’s celebrate the wonder of snow.  What to do?

Let’s hold a multi-site worship experience tomorrow.  At this point I am planning to be at the church.  Carroll is planning to play the organ. The scripture reading is Luke 7:36-50.  NO ONE SHOULD FEEL COMPELLED TO ATTEND.   Be safe.

There are two questions to consider.
1) Who is Jesus?  We’ll sing three very different hymns about Jesus (All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name which is on the Christ the King theme; In the Garden, and I am the Light of the World).  What hymn comes to mind as you ponder Jesus’ central nature for you (O Sacred Head Now Wounded, You have Come to the Lakeshore, Christ the Lord is Risen Today….)?  If you choose describe your understanding of Jesus.

2) Have you had one or more experiences that you would identify as an experience of God?   Describe it/them.

Write a response in the Comment section here or email waldoucc@midcoast.com and I’ll share your thoughts in church Sunday and in this blog Sunday afternoon.

If the weather seems worse in the morning and we decide to cancel, I’ll send out an email in the morning.

Whether I see you in worship at Broad Bay or hear from you by email or you sit inside and drink tea or coffee, may Sunday be a day of Sabbath filled with a sense of Jesus’ presence.  Know that you are loved and not alone.

Nancy
207 691-1036

The angels appeared to those on the margins: a poor teenager and shepherds.
And they were afraid.

Jesus chose fishermen, tax collectors, foreigners, disreputable women,  to share the news of God’s love and mercy.

God appears in unexpected ways and places—opening our hearts, opening our eyes, and commanding us to “fear not.”

God is being born again in and through us:

• When we bring love to places of hate.
• When we allow others to care for us.
• When we bring justice to places of injustice.
• When we feed the hungry and accept food from the stranger.
• When we love one another–especially those who annoy or challenge us.
• When we love our enemies.
• When we stand with those who are persecuted.
• When we weep with those who weep.

Jesus was born in a time of division, a time of fear, and a time of uncertainty.

The angel said “fear not.”

I looked into a child’s eyes, handed him a  Deep Blue Kids Bible, full of pictures and sidebars with commentary and questions relevant for children, and told him about the special passage I had marked for him.  Surely the presence of God is in this place.

On Sunday, I had the privilege to gift Bibles to children ages three to 13.

• Story Bibles with great pictures, large print, and questions for parents and children to ponder.
• Deep Blue Kids Bible for older children where there are sidebars with commentary and questions relevant to children.
• Student Bibles for the adolescents.

I wrote each child’s name in the Bible and put the ribbon bookmark in a page I thought might interest the child/youth.

On Sunday in front of the whole congregation, I made eye contact with each student and told him/her about the passage I chose as they were given their Bible.

Many commented after the service about how wonderful it was to watch the children receive Bibles from a pastor who has known and loved them (and sometimes their grandparents) for over a decade.

What a joy to link Bibles with great pictures and questions to children and youth who share their joy, questions, and concerns in this community of faith.

Later, I received news that some of the children were engrossed in reading their new Bibles.  Others took their Bibles to school to show.

Children are ministers and disciples.   And not infrequently they minister to the clergy, to the adults, and to the community.

I awoke on my day off. “I’ll go for a swim,” I thought to myself.

Gathered the stuff together–swim suit, shampoo, conditioner, towel….  Forgot the goggles.

Started the drive to the big Y–the one with the pool. “Long drive,” I thought;  yet it’s only 6 miles.

How long has it been since I’ve done this?  6 months?  more?  Used to go several times a week for a few years.

I am out of the pool routine. The card reader at the door is new. The people were different. Changed my clothes. Took a shower. Found a place in the pool.  Everything seemed difficult and unfamiliar even as it wasn’t.  “Why I am here?” I grumbled to myself.

The water stung my eyes.  Swimming works different muscles.  I am not a strong swimmer.  “Why did I come?”

Eventually the men with cognitive impairments in the pool gave way to the serious athletes. The pool began to churn with splashing and tidal waves.  “Why I am here?” I wondered as the waves splashed over me.

The water held me up. It felt good to move. The sauna was great.

I reversed the process. Showered. Dressed. Wrung out wet suit. Collected belongings. Drove home.

I felt good. Why did I wait so long?  I forgot how wonderful a swim can feel.  Not just while I was in the pool but for the rest of the day.

I was out of the habit and it was hard to get myself there; it felt good once I did.

Is this what happens when people get out of the habit of coming to church?  Is it so very hard to get back in the habit and return–even when it feels so good?

Invite a friend back to church.  It’s easier that way.

When I was a kid, I lived on the campus of a private school.  On Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, we often went to the athletic fields and cheered for the Orange and Blue. My father wore a blue baseball cap with an orange M. I took it seriously, shouting whenever my team got a run, made a goal, or won the race.  One afternoon as the games were winding down, a man wearing a Blue and Maroon Cap with the letters BH on it came over to the Orange and Blue side and found my father.

From rival teams, they greeted one another as friends; as a child I was confused.

My father loved this man from the other school, the rival team.   They were brothers.   For Christmas, their mother knit an orange and blue scarf for one of them and a maroon and blue scarf for the other. Being brothers was far more important than color of the caps they wore.

In these political times, may we remember that there is more that binds us together than tears us apart. May we all be brothers and sisters, children of the living God.

Last night, many were gathered to hear women’s voices as Maine-ly Harmony sang songs of joy and hope, faith and love.   Women’s voices filled our sanctuary to raise awareness about domestic violence and support the work of New Hope for Women.

During the concert, people were invited to write names of those whose lives were impacted by domestic violence on purple prayer flags. At the close of the performance, we walked outside.  The front doors were framed in purple lights. The moon was full and the skies clear. Cathy Anderson led us in song with the Taize chant, “Lord, Hear our Prayer.”  I held the halyard as people pinned the purple flags to it.

O Lord, hear my prayer
O Lord, hear my prayer
When I call, answer me

O Lord, hear my prayer
O Lord, hear my prayer
Come and listen to me

A community was gathered.  I raised the flags high in front of the church as we continued to sing, “Lord, hear our prayer…”  It was holy ground – a place where song and tears intersect.

In that sacred moment, I felt that those present were holding both the pain of domestic violence and deep deep transformational love.

PS.   If you have a first name or initial of women, child, or man whose life has been impacted by domestic violence and would like that name added to the display outside the church, email waldoucc@midcoast.com.

What a joy to return to a congregation who cared enough to offer me three months of time away—a restorative and healing time. Thank you.

What delight to glimpse the ministry this community of faith did together and the excitement it engendered! You are faithful and creative people.

Now we get to build together on the gifts of the last three months–the skills, creativity, and faithfulness of the congregation and the new insights I gleaned.

I return with a deep appreciation of Sabbath. While there is plenty of work to do, I pray that each of us will find holy places of rest and reflection in the midst of the business of life.

Photos: church school takes over the service and surprises the pastor!

I like politics.  I enjoy good oratory and debate.  Disagreements between good and insightful people can be good and healthy.  Thanks to all the good, thoughtful and hard working people who choose to run for office–whether for president, congress, state house, town governments, or school board.

In college, my senior comps project was on revolutions and how often idealistic rhetoric has given way to brutal dictatorships. Revolutionary language chills me.   Simplistic sound bites in response to complex problems make me uneasy.  Hateful speech scares me.

Seeds of hatred and fear have taken root.  Judging from the presidential polls, we are deeply divided and quick not only to judge our candidates but also to lash out against those who support candidates with whom we disagree.

Heartsick, I reread Healing the Heart of Democracy by Parker Palmer, a critically important assessment  of our politics written by a deeply religious Quaker educator.  I recommend it highly.

So much in our present system works to separate us one from another–working class white men from older women, black from white, urban from rural, Christian from Muslim, followers of one angry candidate from those who support someone else.  When we are separated and afraid and angry, it is too easy for us to be pitted against one another.

Parker Palmer reminds us that democracy works because we are able to hold differences in a healthy tension. Democracy works when we are able to listen and learn from and with one another.

In the next three months, we will be in full campaign mode. I will seek ways to stay in conversation with those who are afraid of my candidate(s) even as I will quietly support efforts to elect the one(s) I think reflect my values, faith and convictions.

“They” say pray.  “They” ask “what is your spiritual practice?”  What is it you do for 20 minutes a day to breath in God’s presence?

Why is it so hard for me to simply pause and pray?  My communication with God is more like like tweets than letters.   Good tweets but still tweets.

A spiritual director urged me to dive into the waters.  “Just sit for 20 minutes a day,” he said.

I imagined God invited me to simply enter the silence:
“Nancy, I delight in your spirit.
I dance in your silence.
Stop and dive into my flowing waters.
Jump in with both feet.
Let the chill of the water take your breath away; I’ll hold you up.
You are my beloved. I am with you always.”

And then I imagined my own absurd response,
“God, thank you so much for your generous invitation but I regret to inform you that I am too busy worrying about holy week services, following the election cycle, unsettled by terrorist attacks, and obsessing about betrayal….”

Laughing, I light a candle, breath deeply, and rest.  I sense God’s love.

Amen and thank God.