Fall is here. I know it actually began a few days ago, but it’s really here now.

I would have to say that it’s my favourite season. The others have their charms—the coziness and stark beauty of winter, the rich unfolding joy of spring, the laziness and relaxation of summer—but fall is my favourite. I like the transformative seasons—fall and spring—more than summer and winter. I like to see the changes—the slow greening of the trees in the spring, the growing colour of those same trees in the fall.

Perhaps it’s also because, unlike my other favourite season, spring, my sense of fall isn’t tied to one day or event or holiday. Spring is always connected to Easter for me, and my birthday, which falls in early April and therefore usually close to Easter. Or, in the case of 2007, is the same day as Easter… But spring means all those traditionally Easterish things—the tulips and hyacinth and lilies, and new green grass and apple blossoms and cherry and pear blossoms, and the dogwoods and azaleas (well, not the latter, not around here—too cold in the winter). Not to mention rabbits and chicks and other birds, and Easter eggs and so on.

My sense of fall is centred more around the richness of harvest—the golds and yellows and browns of apples and pumpkins and corn, of grapes and squash. And the glowing colours of the trees—the red and orange of maples, the blazing yellow of birch, and the amazing changes of the Bradford pear I once had in my front yard, which metamorphosed from green to yellow to gold to red. My memories of fall are of outside things—picking the windfall apples in an orchard at the local cider mill for the youth group to make into cider and sell at church; canoeing on one of Michigan’s many rivers; raking leaves; hiking; camping one last time; making apple butter over a fire at the local nature centre; driving the country and stopping at a farm stand for the shining glossy red and gold apples, the glowing orange pumpkins, the gleaming knobbly squash, and the bunch of Indian corn cobs for the front door; the hayride with the youth group; our annual work camp at the conference camp to put the camp to rest for the winter; the smell of leaves burning in our backyard; and horseback riding in the crisp air with the sun shining like gold.

See? Fall brings out my purple prose!

I’ve even changed my computer desktop to a picture of the woods in the fall. And my screensaver, too.

Perhaps the real question is why fall brings out this feeling in me. Is it because it feels so bountiful—the harvest and the storing up of food and other needs against the coming winter? Or is it the sense of settling in for the winter—close to the storehouse of harvest feeling, but not quite the same. It might just be the beauty of the season. Maybe it’s because, ironically, I always have a sense of new beginnings, of fresh starts and another chance in the fall.

Whatever the reason, I wish each of you the most glorious fall on record, a season of grace, of the harvest of all that is good in your life—love, health, support, friendship, fulfillment, and the knowledge that you are where God intends you to be, doing what God wants you to be doing, answering the divine call. May your storehouses of blessing be full to overflowing!

I'm Still Alive!

Rumours to the contrary, I am well and breathing!

Saturday I usually spend my day popping in and out of the 11th Hour Preacher's Party, writing a sermon with much struggle, on and off the computer all day and then on Sunday venting my relief that it went well (or at least no tomatoes were thrown!). Monday I often blog to get my pump primed for the week. Yeah well...

It's been one of those weekends. Saturday was a membership class all morning (two new members, yay!) and then in the afternoon it was unpacking (winter) clothes and packing (summer) clothes. I did work on the sermon, but didn't have time (sorry!) for the party.

Sunday I was just tired.

Yesterday I spent with my mother and a visiting sister in Capitol City, and what with that and the drive there and back....well, blogging just didn't happen.

Tomorrow--forget it! Errands to run in the morning and meetings all afternoon, plus a church planning meeting in the evening won't leave me any time for it. Thursday is the sermon and the service for the Saturday wedding, plus planning worship for October.

I'm trying to get ahead so that when I go on my retreat next week, I won't have to worry about the sermon or worship on that first Sunday (I have a wedding the day after I get back, too).

How DO you get ahead, those of you who manage it? Someone? Anyone?

Friday Five--Boo Boos!

As is my habit on Fridays, here's the RevGalBlogPals Friday Five meme. Thanks Songbird!

1) Are you a baby about small injuries?
Not really. I've fairly accident-prone, so I'm fairly used to a scrape here, a cut there, and a burn elsewhere. I usually wince, say, "Ow!" and move on.

2) What's the silliest way you have ever hurt yourself?
I have four nominations--not sure which is the worst. But they all involve falling, oddly enough. Not so oddly, I do have a fear of heights and of falling!

My senior year of high school, I was in the spring musical ("Carousel"), and working at the local mall after school. A bus ran by school directly to the mall, and there happened to be a bus at, I think, 4:45, which got me to the mall by 5 so I could work until 9. One day we were late getting out of play practice, and as I came to the parking lot I had to cross to get to the bus stop, I saw the bus coming. Afraid I would miss it, I took off running--not a good idea in platform shoes! I fell hard, scraping my right knee and the heel of my right hand to tatters (not to mention my stockings!). My job that night was sitting at a slow register putting price tags on hair colour, so I could sit down.

Then, at a friend's family reunion, I fell again. It was just dusk, and I was crossing their yard, when I fell into a shallow drainage ditch I didn't know was there! I hadn't been to the house before (it was their summer trailer by the lake), so my unfamiliarity with the lay of the land and the dim light, not to mention the Dr. Scholl's (R) I was wearing combined to make me stumble and fall flat on my face. The worst of it was that I was about 19, and the crowd assumed I had been testing the beer in the keg on the back porch--and I hadn't. I was mortified to have fallen front of so many people, most of them strangers. It was a running joke the rest of the (very long) weekend.

And like Songbird, I fell off a curb. It was December 23, I was a newly-wed going to my in-laws for our first Christmas. I had worked the 3-11 shift at the hospital, and we were leaving right from the hospital (where I worked) to my in-laws'. My husband pulled up near the curb, I stepped off to get in the car, and fell as my ankle twisted under me. By the time we got to my in-laws', it was swollen; the next morning=Christmas Eve!--when we got up, I couldn't put my shoe on that foot. I went to their family doctor, got an x-ray and an Ace bandage, and spent the holidays on the couch with my foot up.

Finally, when we lived in Germany, at a village fair, I was crossing a railroad track (in a field, not at a crossing) on foot and carrying my son, who was a toddler. As I stepped on the gravel, I felt my foot give way, and instinctively twisted to fall under TO, instead of on top of him. I did it, but pulled a muscle in my back that still bothers me from time to time.

None of those are really funny (although my friend's family thought the one was); all a bit odd, though!

3) Who took care of your boo-boos when you were a child?
Oh, my mom or one of my older sisters. Merthiolate and a bandage!

4) Are you a good nurse when others have boo-boos?
Boo boos, yes--blood doesn't bother me. Digestive upsets, yuck. I once knew a nurse who hated the sight of blood, believe it or not. She did NOT work in surgery!

5) What's the worst accidental injury you've suffered? Did it require a trip to the Emergency Room?
When I was about five, I put my arm through a window and needed stitching up. I still have a "J" shaped scar on my right upper arm from it. We didn't go to the ER, though--in those days, you went to the doctor's office and got hustled in ahead of everyone who stared at you, startled and horrified at all the blood.

You know, in putting this together, I had to think about all the times I've hurt myself. I am accident prone! There's the cut on my arm, one on my hand, between my toes (don't ask; that should be number five of the silly accidents), sprained ankles (three times), sprained knee, back muscle, innumerable falls (including two while I was pregnant), several burns and cuts in the kitchen, and three minor car accidents. If you suscribe to the theory that we get hurt when we aren't happy with ourselves, then I was suppressing some major anger from time to time. On the other hand, perhaps I was just distracted and thinking Great Thoughts.

Blogthoughts!

Random blogthoughts…

I just received word that will be able to stay at the retreat centre for a full week, instead of the five days it originally seemed it would be. One of the groups scheduled to come the weekend before didn’t need the cottage after all, so I will be installed there instead! I’ll be sharing a bit more about what this retreat will mean to me in the next week.

I haven’t felt well the last couple of days—nothing so much that I wanted to go to bed, but just draggy and slow and achy. Thanks to you all for your prayers (and a healing slap upside the head from Rev Dona…owww). I spent the time not terribly productively (but very entertainingly) in playing with themes and colours and wallpapers on my ‘puter. I am amazed at the variety of tastes and the amount of creativity in the world. If you like something, anything, you can probably find a theme, and definitely a wallpaper for it—from the predictable like angels, cars. Pets, various movies and TV series to wine, obscure authors, and even manatees. Oh, and a theme is a set of customized items for your computer desktop (wallpaper, icons, colours, pointers, sounds, screensaver, etc.) with a (duh) theme. So a theme on, say, the Fourth of July might use red, white and blue as a color scheme, with firecracker and brass band sounds (for programs opening, new mail, etc.), a desktop picture of a Fourth of July parade, and a screensaver of fireworks. I now have themes for cats and books (yes, together), wine, the beach, fall and an aquarium. If I could find one for corgis, I'd use it. Or Canada. Or Michigan. Or....

I’m working on planning a worship service for our denomination’s regional conference later this year. As many of you probably already know, it’s difficult to create a service when you aren’t preaching, consecrating communion, or directing music. Luckily I’m working with a good, long-time friend—one of the first people I came out to, my first UFMCC pastor, and a kindred spirit when it comes to worship tastes. We had a phone conference today and have worked out how we’ll deal with things. It’s good to know we have each other’s back in this…

I wish there was a First Parish Project for us “old ‘uns.” FPP is a wonderful program endowed by the Lilly fund and other organizations for pastors in their first church (please note, I tried to insert the proper html here for a direct link and Blogger wouldn't let me; the URL is http://www.hintoncenter.org/pdf/first_parish_project.pdf#search=%22first%20parish%20project%22
). I think we have one or two revgalblogpals who are participating. My worship-planning friend also participated (in the past), and he was singing its praises to me. Collegiality, mutual support, continuing education, etc. Well, shoot. I’m not in my first parish, really—it’s the second church I’ve served—but the first was only for a year. However, I’m way too old…upper age limit is 35, and I’m not even close anymore (Can’t open hailing frequencies, Cap’n!). Surely I’m not the only first “real parish” pastor over 40 out there? Does anyone know of such a program?

But, I have to add, he was envious of my community here on revgalblogpals. The concept of a community that shares values, interests, goals, hopes, dreams, fears, silliness and recipes while it transcends geographic boundaries intrigued him. He says he’s not that technologically savvy, but if I can do it, I think he can too. I have talked to more than one person recently who has that same reaction—“wow, what a neat concept! That’s what the Internet was supposed to be about!” Well, not quite, but that’s another lecture. However, RevGalBlogPals is a Good Thing, and I bless the day I found all of you!

Sick Tuesday

I am not feeling well today. Nothing major, no sinus pain or sniffles or, um, digestitory issues. Just a little queasy and achy and blah.

This does not bode well, as at least four members of our congregation (one of them residing with me) have come down with "the crud" in the last two weeks.

I don't have time to be sick! Which, of course, means I will get very ill very soon. Maybe I can trick this thing, whatever it is, if I pretend I'm as free as the air and have all kinds of time to do whatever I want--if I take today off, and sleep and drink hot tea and read good books and ignore the vast pile of stuff to be done (prepare for church makeover class on Thursday, and for membership class on Saturday; start sermon; get the order of worship for Sunday to the designer--which means finding or writing the call to worship and possibly a responsive invocation/benediction/prayers of the people; preparing for our congregation's mission and vision retreat next month; phone calls and conversations with members of the various community groups with whom I have on-going projects; preparing for a denominational regional conference worship team phone conference tomorrow; and finishing our congregation's annual report, to name a few of just the "church" tasks, ignoring all that needs to be done around the house).

Nope, I got nothin' to do today, not me! (Hear that, flu germs? Nothin' at all!)

Friday Five Meme: Brushes with Greatness

1. Tell us about a time you met someone famous.

I went to a book-signing for one of Rita Mae Brown’s Mrs. Murphy mystery series, set in Crozet, Virginia. I have a corgi dog, and a corgi (Tee Tucker) is featured in the series. I had read Ms Brown’s “Rubyfruit Jungle” as part of my Women’s Studies class at university, and enjoyed the Mrs. Murphy series. I brought copies of my favourite two from the series and bought a copy of the new book for her to sign. I told her I had read “Rubyfruit” in college, “more years ago than I want to think about.” She looked me straight in the eye and said, “Honey, I WROTE the book, and I know how long ago that was.” I also mentioned to her that I had lived near Crozet and had in fact enjoyed many a Crozet pizza; also that I had a corgi. She signed one of the books to my dog, by name, and one to my mother, as I asked, and one to me, telling me, “You KNOW Crozet Pizza!” I was very impressed with the way she took the time to chat with people, and make sure they had a connection with her, but was also very open and down-to-earth. She is who she is, take it or leave it.

2. Tell us about a celebrity you'd like to meet.
Nelson Mandela and the Dalai Lama for noble reasons. For fun, Mariska Hargitay, Ellen Degeneres, Melissa Etheridge, kd lang, Megan Mullaly, and Bruce Springsteen (in no particular order). Mandela and the Lama are obvious—two of the greatest workers for spirituality and human rights the last fifty years have seen. I think it would be fun to have dinner or go to a party with Ellen and Megan—they just seem like fun people. Melissa, Bruce and kd are people who have a lot to teach me about tapping that creative vein in my heart. And Mariska just ‘cause (smirk).

3. Tell us about someone great who's *not* famous that you think everyone oughta have a chance to meet.

Christian de la Huerta. He’s a writer, Breathwork practitioner, and retreat leader. He’s written a book, “Coming Out Spiritually,” that encourages gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people to claim their spirituality in the face of those who would deny it, and offers descriptions of various alternate pathways to traditional religion, but which can be practiced alongside or as part of traditional organized religion (breathwork, meditation, yoga, etc.). He’s a warm, supportive man, and I am proud to count him as a friend.

4. Do you have any autographs of famous people?
I used to have one of Arthur C. Clarke, the science fiction writer.

5. If you were to become famous, what would you want to become famous for?
For my integrity—that I stood up for what I believed was right, spoke out for that belief, and that I was not afraid of the consequences.

Bonus: Whose 15 minutes of fame was up long, long ago?

Paris Hilton. Tom Cruise, and Mel Gibson. Get over yourselves, people!

The Politics of Bingo, Ontario Style

Here in River City, many (if not most) charity organizations get a portion of their funding from bingo and other gaming revenue. Baseball clubs, alumni associations, churches, and service groups (Rotary, Kiwanis, etc.), to name a few, are all involved. In order to maintain control of the games, to be sure they are run in a fair manner and that all charities have a chance at the proceeds, the government licenses and supervises the bingos (and of course, so the government can get their share, too).

All registered charities are eligible for membership in a charity association (the organization that actually runs the bingo hall). The CA supervises the commercial organization that manages the hall—hires the callers and runners, purchases the paper, maintains the hall, etc. Each charity gets a certain number of licences (permits) per year to run a bingo. It is possible to petition for more, and some charities do (usually the very large organizations, like hospitals and the symphony). The CA schedules the charities into the hall, and the charity provides workers from their members (real members, not people they hire) to run the bingo. It varies from hall to hall—some places the charity workers sell all the paper (the cards people play on), in some they just sell the main cards at the counter, and in some they only take care of payouts (prizes) and keep track of the numbers. At the end of every month, the profits from the hall are divided up among all the charities that staffed the hall that month, based on how many two-hour sessions they staffed (not on how much was taken in during the sessions they worked). Some of the government’s portion goes to other charitable work (in Ontario, for instance, to the Trillium Foundation, which gives grants to community organizations for community improvement). So even organizations that don’t staff bingo halls benefit from bingo.

As to the moral issues—it bothered me from the beginning, and still does. As a former Methodist, I have a deep-seated aversion to anything that resembles gambling. I remember the ruction at a former church when the ladies wanted to raffle off a quilt—that was gambling! I’ve seen the sort of person who plays bingo—many of them surely could use the money to better effect. And certainly there is an effect on the church members—if the church is earning money from bingo, surely they don’t need as much in donations! That hampers discipleship and stewardship. And it takes a lot of energy—we have one person whose job is bingo coordinator—filling out the applications and obtaining the license every month (we do one bingo a month), making sure there are workers for the date, taking care of the paperwork (such as balance sheets through the session, float deposits, and a report afterwards, to name a few). The larger organizations that do several a month have paid bingo coordinators.

On the other hand, if we were not working the bingo, someone else would be. And while I may feel that the customers could spend the money in better ways, they are all adults and able to choose how to spend their money. Bingo is not as addictive nor as expensive as other forms of gambling (say slots or horse racing or roulette). And it does (or did until recently) bring in funds to allow us to keep the church going while we go through our transition.

On balance, I have to say I am glad we are being forced to find other means of funding. I resisted going into bingos in the first place (and the church had a bad history with bingos in the past), and we were clear at the time that it was temporary only. Well, it really was!

My concern and frustration is that so many of the charity organizations are simply being dumped, in effect. The hospitals, cultural groups and service clubs will find other methods of fundraising via grants, benefactors, and so on. But the small clubs, the community support group, the kids’ soccer league—those sorts of organizations face a real possibility of collapse, and there doesn’t seem to have been any kind of forethought about that. Many of the grants that the larger groups are eligible for will be harder to get since there will be less revenue from the bingos (which fund many of the granting foundations). What will we do without the baseball clubs (many of which used bingos to keep costs low so all the neighbourhood kids could participate), the free anger-management classes, the respite care groups, the safe house for domestic violence victims? The government will have to step in, at least in some cases, to provide equivalent services, or else face increased costs in other ways—through the court system, when the abuser faces charges again, because he couldn’t get into an anger-management class, or the new Canadian who is forced onto welfare because the English as a second language class was full and she can’t get a job.

In fairness, it could be said that the province couldn't have known that the situation would get this dire--several factors came together in a "perfect storm" scenario. The increased difficulty of crossing the border, the higher exchange rate, the smoking ban, the layoffs--all these added up to fewer people in the bingo halls. But the gaming authorities had to know that there would be some effect on the bingos (and on the Casino in town, which is a private concern, but a large employer).

I can’t argue with the demise of bingo, to be honest. But I wish some more thought had been put into helping the organizations that depended on it—partial funding for a transition period, training in other methods of fundraising, and so on. It’s become a sink-or-swim system in which some organizations that deserve to live will drown. The hospitals and symphony and Rotary will survive. But the Southside Baseball Club and the Immigrant’s Centre and the Family Support Centre may very well not. And that would be a pity and a crime.

It's Done!

Several things are done today.

1. Finally, finally, our office has been repaired. New ceiling, new paint, and even a fresh wax job on the floor from the wonderful custodian at our host church. We're still not sure about that mould in the ceiling, but there's not much to be done at the moment. We're working on the alternative. That will take a bit of time, but if it all works out, we will be in a wonderful space with lots of options for ministry.

2. Bingos. Now, the propriety of supporting a church through bingos is another post (which I feel coming on and will try to post today sometime), but the fact remains that we have used them. However, the bingo industry (and it is just that, don't fool yourself, at least here in River City) has been sliding downhill for years. A lot of our bingo players used to come from the States, since the exchange rate was good, there was plenty of parking, and the prizes were generally better. But after 9/11/2001, it became harder to cross the border, and things slackened. This summer, the province instituted a smoking ban. And then the car makers laid off a lot of people. Taken together, these have done severe damage to the bingo system. The hall where we ran our bingos has closed as of the end of the month. We can find another location if we want to, and we will make the attempt. But we are also looking into some other options. Bingo is done, at least for us.

3. Pride. The chair and the finance committee were meeting last night to finalize the financial report--all those invoices that hadn't been paid yet, the past-due bills the vendors hadn't paid, etc. It was amazing and magnificent this year--ten days with events almost every single day, from a play to an AIDS vigil, from bowling to a church service, a night and an afternoon of entertainment that was just outstanding, and a parade that was the largest ever. We garnered more sponsors this year than ever, and the publicity and press coverage was amazing. So now we meet to review the final report, and then catch our breath and elect officers for next year.

4. Summer's about over. I know we theoretically have a few more days of summer here in the northern hemisphere, but I've seen the leaves changing, and we haven't had temperatures over 75 in weeks. If I want to enjoy the porch, I'd better get out there and do it!

Clerical Sartorial Splendour (Female Version)

I was thinking in the shower this morning, as I often do, about what I was going to put on when I got out of the shower. It being Sunday, I debated wearing a clerical shirt and collar. I decided against it, but it got me thinking.

I rarely wear a clerical collar. It's not because I don't like them, or have any philosphical distaste. It's actually swimming a bit against the tide of my denomination, in which most clergy wear a collar at every opportunity.

In my experience, they are useful sometimes--for instance, on hospital visits. Sometimes they command respect, and they always identify you as undoubtedly clergy. However, sometimes they arouse anger or distrust in people.

I wear mine when I am clearly representing the church--such as the media event last week--and when I am being interviewed by the media. I wear it sometimes when I visit in hospital, but there I also take a hint from the person I am going to visit. Some people are pleased to see the collar--I guess it gives me legitimacy in their eyes, or in the eyes of others they are concerned about--and others, as I said, distrust it. Occasionally--I will admit it--I wear it for the dicomfort factor. This is a heavily Roman Catholic town, and so it often disconcerts people to see a woman wearing a clerical collar. This can be an advantage, depending on the situation!

As to which I wear, I have both tab collars and one Roman collar. The tabs are easier to put on, but the Roman looks classier (to me). I have two long-sleeve and two short-sleeve. I would like to get one more of each, so that I don't have to immediately wash them when I take them off. Sometimes I wear them with a suit, sometimes just with slacks, sometimes even with tan khaki-type slacks.

United Methodists (my previous denomination) rarely wear them, in my experience, so I'm still getting used to the idea, and trying to work out what works best for me.

How about you? Tab or Roman? Every day or never? Ever tried a Janey? With suits, jumpers, vests (the latter two in the US sense!), skirts? Only on Sundays? Any make you prefer? Where are they least expensive?

Preaching Without a Net

One of my preaching professors had us do a great exercise. She told us it was Sunday morning, twenty minutes before the service started, and we had scheduled a guest preacher for today, who had just called to say he was in the emergency room of the local hospital with his wife who was having an asthma attack, and he wouldn't be able to be there. We had to come up with a sermon in twenty minutes, with no commentaries, no Web access, only our Bibles and our brains.

We then had to preach our sermon to the class.

She handed each of us a scripture citation, put twenty minutes on the timer, and said "Go!"

You want to talk panic?!

Well, each of us had something to say when we got up there, all right. Some of us more than others.

I started off quite well, went places with it, and wound up for the great resounding climax--only to fall flat without a firm conclusion. I sputtered around for a few moments, and finally said, "In all God's many names, amen. Will you please rise and join together in our response hymn?"

So now I always make sure I have something great for an ending. I figure even if the rest was not so hot, if the ending is knock-out, the congregation will remember that and forget about the rest...

All of which is to say that I'm preaching from an (extended) outline tomorrow, but I wrote out the final paragraph so I don't ruin the effect (if any) of the rest of the sermon, or else that I end it coherently at least (depending on how the beginning and middle are!).

PS The prof was feeling kindly; I got a B+.

Five Things I Have Enjoyed This Week

1. Dinner Friday night. We had a “porcetta,” a rolled pork roast seasoned with dried sweet red peppers, dill, and a couple of other spices/herbs I couldn’t identify. Our friends from the Yellow House, who are in the midst of home renovation, brought some wine. We had rice and steamed carrots with a brown sugar glaze with the porcetta, and ate everything til it was gone except the rice, which I mixed with the sauce from the carrots and put in the frig for our lunch today. It was a change from our recent dinners which have been a steady procession of ground beef in various dishes and chicken. And best of all was the company. It was a spur of the moment, hey-they’re-in-the-dust-of-renovation dinner invitation, and in the manner of spontaneous invitations, was heartily enjoyed!

2. My network of friends and acquaintances here in Windsor. There was a “media event” for a local community group on Friday morning, to which I was invited. While the speakers were doing their thing, I was looking at the group assembled there, and realizing how many connections I have made here in less than two years. Many of the folks I knew there were friends—people I could call and say, “Hey, we’re getting together tomorrow night, come on over.” Others were more what I would call connections—folks from the various groups that I work with, who are doing projects that synergize with some of ours, that sort of thing. But it made me feel warm inside to see how many people smiled and greeted me when I entered.

3. I have a habit to confess to. I get up earlier than I have to in the morning, just to have a half-hour or so to read my devotional, read a good book, and sip a cup of coffee before I face the busy-ness of daily life. When I can’t do that, when I have to get up and jump in the shower, and dash off to meetings or appointments, I feel grumpy all day. Some days that’s the only solitude I have, and I need a certain amount in order to function properly. So, yes, it’s gotten to be a habit. But a pleasurable one…although I suppose all habits are pleasurable in the beginning!

4. The pool party on Sunday. Friends of ours who live nearby had a “end of summer” pool party last Sunday afternoon. DP and I went over after church, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. It was too cool to swim, but nice enough to sit on the deck and chat, drink wine, and eat potstickers until we were stuffed. These are friends to whom, like our friends of Friday night in the Yellow House, we are just RP and DP; not “the pastor” and “pastor’s spouse.” It’s refreshing, not least because we talk about things besides the church! They don’t hold us to a higher standard, so we can be ourselves. Someone once told me to be sure I had friends who weren’t members of the church, so that I could be myself somewhere; they were so right! It’s not that I wear a mask at church. It’s more that my being human sometimes surprises the members; although they say they’re fine with it, the reality is somewhat different.

5. Sitting on my front porch enjoying the wonderful weather! It’s been in the 70s all week, with low humidity, and some rain at night. Yesterday I sat on the porch for a couple of hours, reading The New Yorker and working on thoughts and ideas for the sermon. Life is good.

Random Tuesday-ness

Ack, it's been almost a week.

Well, I have several very good excuses. I won't trot them out, but I know I've got them, if anyone wants to hear them.

Many thoughts, and again they will be random--I hope to be more organized and coherent later in the week. But tonight, I'm all over the map!

Rhetorical questions (reflections welcome!)
How do we integrate stewardship and our mission? By that I mean, how do we translate what is in our mission statement into ways that people can participate through time, treasure and talent?

If I change my template on Blogger, will I lose all my links and ring codes?

Why is my September calendar full already?

How do we build community in our congregations? How do we encourage folks to be friends, so that they call each other, go to the movies together, drop by each other's home, share recipes, etc?

Why do so many congregation members think the pastor should be the one to greet new people, when, if you ask them after a few visits, they say they would rather talk to another member, NOT the pastor? I guess we intimidate them.

And a couple of observations:
I was told today that many activists working with acquired immunity deficiency syndrome now want to use the term hiv/aids rather than HIV/AIDS, because the latter looks like yelling the name, and we don't, after all, yell the name of other diseases like DIABETES. Never mind that it's an acronym... I haven't heard people involved with ALS or COPD making this complaint. I am very very supportive of people living with HIV/AIDS--many of them are dear friends. But this seems a bit off the deep end to me.

To those who recommended "Getting Things Done," by ? Allen--thank you thank you! I've listening to it on CD (print not available), I haven't finished the first disc yet, and I'm already using what he says. Love it love it!

And to those who mentioned "Generation to Generation," by Friedman (why can't I remember first names tonight?), another big thank you. It had been sitting on my shelf and I just hadn't gotten around to it. A pastor friend said to me the other day (seeing on my coffee table), "Oh, you're reviewing Friedman?" She was shocked when I admitted I was reading it for the first time, but told me it would be the most useful book I read all year.

And now it's Rainbow Pastor time--some frozen yogurt, a good book (history of Canada) and bed.

Thursday Random Thoughts

I have more to do today than three people could get done, so I'm going on with the understanding that lots of stuff won't get done. One thing I need to do for my own sanity is a post here. So here goes.

1. I want to read "Getting Things Done," but I have too much to do.
2. My sermon isn't even going to be started until Saturday.
3. Why do people assume that you are doing only what they know you are doing, and that therefore you have some free time? They don't have any idea of the other six projects I'm involved with, each just as time-consuming as the one they know about.
   
4. I'm getting better at saying "No."
5. I'm getting better at asking for help.
6. Ya gotta have friends (see #5). One friend offered to do my laundry--I talked her into working the church's bingo night instead!
7. My daydreams these days involve three hours of free time with a good book and a full pot of coffee, instead of a deserted beach and a tall cool colorful drink. I'm trying to be realistic.
8. Do funeral directors know how sensitive their work is? Depending on the attitude of the funeral director and funeral home, the time of mourning can be hell or can be made easier. It is so crucial to have someone who can read the family and be supportive in ways that they need (and each family is different). Some clearly understand it, and others should be clocked upside the head. At the moment, I'm dealing with a very good director. Thank you, God!
9. The sermon topic--Exile (I'm off-lectionary for a few weeks)--will certainly resonate on many levels this week.
10. There is no such thing as a part-time pastor. Some pastors may be paid for part-time work, but not one pastor of my acquaintance has ever actually worked just 20 hours a week.
    

Tuesday Morning

It’s raining, I’m preparing for a funeral later in the week, and I haven’t started my sermon for Sunday.

Whine over.

I’ve been thinking about what someone said to me this past weekend, that she saw the real work of the church being done—the support, the caring--around the death of one of our members. “That’s what the church is supposed to be about,” she said, “not the service on Sunday and whether you go or not.”

And she’s right. When our churches turn inward and focus on “inside activities,” like fundraisers and social hour and Bible studies, to the exclusion of those things that lead us out of the church, like community work, or missions work, then the church is stagnating. At one church I served, I knew we were in trouble when we could get lots of turnout for the annual Fall Festival fundraiser, but no volunteers for the CROP Walk for Hunger.

Here in Windsor, my involvement in community projects is about more than raising the visibility of the church. It’s about making visible God’s love in ways that are needed here and now, in action rather than talk. Members of the congregation are part of what we’ve done, too—it’s not just RP here. We’ve been a collection point for funds for a young man who was gay-bashed into a coma; we’re working in various ways on support for GLBT teens; we work with the local Pride committee; we’re helping to coordinate a breast cancer awareness program for health care providers on the obstacles faced by lesbian and bisexual women, and a separate program for the women; we’re looking into establishing a GLBT community centre. In every case except the breast cancer awareness program, the involvement goes beyond me, to the congregation as a whole.

I’d like to see us move beyond the GLBT community as well, and work on a Habitat for Humanity house, or donate regularly to one of the food pantries in town, or work with one of the soup kitchens. That’s further down the road, but I think it’s the next step.

Worship services are important—they remind us of who we are and whose we are. But without the work, without the service, our worship is empty. We say to God, “we love you and praise you.” God says, “Show me.” Remember the great commandment: “As you have done it for the least of these my brothers and sisters, so you have done it for me.” Worship is part of our love and praise of God, a way to take time and remind ourselves of what we are about each week; but service is the heart of it.

Friday Back-to-School!

Well, I should be working on my sermon, given that I have a church dinner tonight, a wedding most of the day tomorrow, and a dear church member seriously ill in hospital (I spent most of the earlier part of the day there). But I need a mental break, so here goes:

1. What is your earliest memory of school?
My mother took me to meet my kindergarten teacher one day the summer before school started, and while they were chatting, I wandered out to the fenced-in “kindergarten playground” just off the kindergarten classrooms. I found it boring—only the cement “tunnels” cut from huge pipes and a sandbox—so I went on out to the “big playground” and starting swinging on the “big kids” swings. When I was found, I was told in no uncertain terms that kindergartners had to stay on the kindergarten playground. Sigh. Seems I’ve been going places I’m “not supposed to go” ever since.

2. Who was a favourite teacher in your early education?
Mrs. Emery, my third grade teacher. She read to us every day after lunch for half an hour or so; the bestsellers of kidlit of the times—“Dorp Dead” and “Beezus and Ramona” and “Pippi Longstocking.” She read all the stories I wrote, even when they were about horses. She encouraged me to learn math, too.
Mrs. Marquart, my fourth grade teacher, was pretty cool, too. We made a huge collage mural each season (Fall, Winter and Spring), and when it was time for the next one, we drew names to see who got the old one. I took home the winter mural! We also had a fishtank, and made sand sculptures, and she actually got the multiplication tables into my head! Yes, math was a challenge for me…

3. What do you remember about school “back then” that is different from what you know about schools now?
Clothes. I had to wear a dress/skirt to school until I was in third or fourth grade; even then, while you could wear slacks/jeans, a skirt or dress was preferred. This was in Michigan, walking to school in all weathers. Is it any wonder most of us wore pants to school under our dresses and took them off when we got there? I would never have been able to wear shorts to school under any circumstances (my mother’s rule, not the school’s). Today, my son and his friends wear pretty much whatever they like. The rules have more to do with what’s on the clothing (no alcohol/drug promotion, no obscenity or hate language) and the length (no belly t’s, no droopy pants). Oh, and no hats.
And of course computers. In grade 7, our school had a connection to the university computer. We could play “Hangman” with a computer. That was pretty cool and high-tech at the time. Now kids get in trouble for playing “Hangman” on the computer when they’re supposed to be studying.

4. Did you have to memorize in school? If so, share a poem or song you learned.
Somehow I got away with not having to memorize anything. I did, however, all on my own, memorize Robert Frost’s poem, “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening.”

Whose woods these are I think I know;
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The coldest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.

I typed that in and then checked it. I only made one mistake: it’s the “darkest” evening of the year, not the “coldest.”

5. Did you ever get in trouble at school? Were there any embarrassing moments you can share?
Well, see above, with the kindergarten playground. Although since it was only my mother and the teacher, perhaps that doesn’t count. I was a boringly obedient child.

To Lection or Not to Lection? That is the Series!

I'm just finishing up my first-ever sermon series, on King David (with a couple more on Solomon), and I've learned some lessons.

• Always outline all the sermons in the series (at least, that you are going to preach) before you decide to do such a thing. This way, you will be sure you really have enough to say about each item in the series.
  
• Be sure the series is something you feel passionate about. I like David's story, I think it has a lot to say, but--I feel much more passionate about Psalms, or Peter, or the prophets.
  
• Try to have a theme that runs all the way through the series (using God's gifts, or bread-hah!-or good vs evil) to bring the units together.
• Alternatively, have a non-thematic series and just run with it. A mentor pastor had parishioners list questions they had on cards, and drop them in the offering plate. She did this over about a month. At the end of the month, she selected the ten most popular/interesting questions for the series, which was done during the summer. The only one I remember right now was about forgiveness; that was the one I preached on, as a guest. It was about four weeks after I came back from my trip to Poland and the concentration camps, so it was a very powerful question for me at the time. This was a very popular series, by the way--she had published the schedule of questions/sermon topics in the church newsletter, and so people made sure to come to church when a topic they were especially interested in was being preached--and most of them were the sort of thing that people were interested in--forgiveness, theodicy, the afterlife, etc.
• Be very sure you want to preach on these things for a while (see passion, above).
  

So, what I am getting ready to do?

Another series. This one is off lectionary, however. I've almost never gone off-lectionary. I like the lectionary, it keeps me from preaching Luke, John, and Isaiah all the time, and won't let me avoid the difficult texts. However...

It's been a while since the congregation here rewrote their mission and vision statement. It's time. But we need to get ready for that. We also need to address church growth issues--Church Makeover is the title of the study series one of my leaders has put together. And then there's the issue of finding space--which is an ongoing drama. So I'm going to be preaching on the Exile to Babylon and the return, via the prophets and Esther.

It's a natural follow-on to David and Solomon--on Labour Day Sunday I'll talk about the kings after Solomon and the fall of the kingdom and the exile to Babylon and Jeremiah. Then I'll bring in Esther and Mordecai in two parts and move on to Ezekiel. Later we'll hear from Ezra about the return, and finally Nehemiah, rebuilding the temple, just as we prepare for the mission and vision retreat in October.

The whole story fits well into the history of the congregation, as well as our need for growth, and looking for a place to call home.

I feel much better about this than I did the David series--and it's shorter, too.

Friday Phrase Meme

Once again, the RevGals have the best meme for a Friday. Here are my tongue-in-cheek definitions for these British terms:

Adverse Camber: A cranky mountain climber. The sort who always complains about the snow, the bad food, the cold, the lack of oxygen…who has no stiff upper lip at all.

Butts Wynd: A vulgar term for the terrible storms that come down from the North Sea.

Plague Church: A congregation made up of nothing but antagonists.

Free House: Parsonage; rectory; vicarage; a home given to the pastor of a church as part of a compensation package. See also: parsonage committee; repairs.

Mind the Gap: Warning to new seminary graduates going to first pastorates in communities with theologies vastly different from that taught in the seminary.

P.S. And I'm proud to say that I know what each of those mean! And since my son is in the UK with his dad this week, I'm hoping he's seeing these same phrases and enjoying them!

Holy Midnight Hunt, Batman!

I like to think of myself as a nature girl--or at least being comfortable with Nature. I camped at least once a month (well, June throuogh September, anyway, being in Michigan) from the time I was nine or ten until I went off to college. I played with snakes, I fed orphaned fawns, I led an orphaned fox on a leash; I even did some survival camping (i.e., dig a hole for the latrine, cook over a fire...). I'm not normally a squeamish person. So you'd think I could survive a bat in the house.

You would be wrong.

Last night I decided to check email one last time before heading to bed (I had sent off an email to several friends, and I was curious about the responses), against my better judgement (usually emails right before bed mean sleepless nights). I sat down at my desk, hit the "power on" button on my trusty laptop, and sat back to watch it go through its startup routine. It was then that I noticed the shadow fluttering around on the walls and the ceiling. "Geez, that's a big moth," I thought. "Maybe it's a Luna!" (I have always wanted to see a live Luna moth, and I couldn't imagine what other moth would be so large in these latitudes). I swung around to look--and it was a bat, fluttering towards me in that alarming way bats have of seeming slightly tipsy and uncertain of their flight path.

I jumped up and ran out of the room, screaming, if you will excuse the expression, like a girl. "Omigod, Omigod, there's a bat in there!" I screeched, closing the door to my study and hyperventilating. DP calmly says, "Well, reach in and turn off the light, then close the door. However it got in, it can get out the same way."

"No, my computer's on, I've got to turn it off!" (I've been having "issues" with the battery in my not-so-trusty laptop)

I dashed in, ducking and turning to avoid the poor terrified bat, to turn off the computer. I opened the door to the attic (which opens off my study) to let the critter get back upstairs and out, as I was assuming that it got in through a partially opened (although screened) window in the attic.

We closed the door, made sure it was latched, and went to bed. Twenty minutes later, I was awakened by the thump and clatter of Big Cat jumping after something, and DP said resignedly, "I think the bat got out."

I sat up, turned on the light, and sure enough, there was Kamikaze Bat, once again swooping madly about, trying to avoid the cat, the slowly-turning ceiling fan, the walls, and us. It came straight at me, and I reprised my shriek of earlier.

We got up, turned on all the lights upstairs in an effort to drive it downstairs, and I called the city hall information number, hoping that 1) Animal Control would come catch a bat, and 2) they would do it at 12:30 am (as recorded on my Zen clock at bedside). No to both. "If it's outside, like rats, we can lay poison," said the not-very-helpful young man at the city information desk (which did answer the phone at 12:30 am). "But if it's inside, you have to take care of that yourself--like maybe call a pest control company. But you'll probably have to call them in the morning. Are you sure it was a bat? I didn't think we had bats here."

Eedjit. I was very sure it was a bat--I know the difference between a bat and a moth, or a bat and a bird...Humph.

So DP and I had to concoct a plan. We devised one that involved "herding" the bat onto our back mudroom-type porch, from which it could escape through an open door. The bat had other ideas. It ended up in the bathroom, clinging to the bathmat draped over the side of the tub (so I got an extremely good look at it, and yes, it was a BAT). I took the screen out of the bathroom window, turned off the light, closed the bathroom door, and we blocked the bottom of the door with towels (I understand they can get through very small spaces). We went to bed.

This morning, the bat is gone. The cats have lost what they thought was a great play-toy. The screen has to get back in the window. The towels did their job.

Mr. M. slept through the whole thing. Guard dog, hah!

So, anyone want to clean the attic with me?

Our nocturnal visitor, the Little Brown Bat, AKA myotis lucifugis.

Another view, to get an idea of size (i.e., quite small and not worth the shrieking...). I should add that they eat bugs (i.e. the evil mosquito) and this one couldn't have hurt me if it tried. I am deeply shamed by my behavior...well, embarrassed, anyway!

Ceiling...again

We are still waiting on the ceiling repairs. It's unclear at this point how long they will take.

Of course, we're now wondering if we want to move back into that office.

However, that is in the future. For now, we need to reorganize in the basement space where we've been temporarily moved, and figure out how to do church without an office (only a pile of boxes and a table with the computer on it, and a couple of chairs).

Many thanks for all the prayers and support over the last few weeks!

Sermon Procrastination...

Sermon procrastination time!

So I’ll run the book meme—I’ve been meaning to do it anyway…

One book that changed your life: Faith and Fratricide, by Rosemary Radford Reuther. It made me really look at the real-world effects of our exegesis, and brought home, painfully, that our exegesis is not done in isolation. We can hurt others with our thoughts.

One book that you’ve read more than once: The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien. I used to spend every Christmas break, from age 13 or so through 20, reading it again.

One book you’d want on a desert island: Fat Girls and Lawn Chairs, by Cheryl Peck, probably. As others have said, I’d need something to laugh at. On the other hand, being isolated on a desert island might be a good time to work though Augustine’s City of God.

One book that made you laugh: Besides the above mentioned Fat Girls and Lawn Chairs (laugh-out-loud), I like David Sedaris. Anything by David Sedaris. He wrote a phonebook? I’ll read it.

One book that made you cry: Up a Road Slowly, Irene Hunt. More recently, King Hereafter, by Dorothy Dunnett. A powerful book about the man Dunnett thinks was the “real” MacBeth.

One book you wish you had written: Just about anything by Marge Piercy or Dorothy Dunnett. I wish I had their command of language and their knowledge.

One book you wish had never been written: It never existed, but people thought it did, with horrible consequences: The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. I wish it had never even been imagined. Another choice is A Hammer for Witches, the handbook of the Inquisition.

One book you’re currently reading: The Illustrated History of Canada. Growing up in Michigan, I learned Michigan history (I think we had a “unit” in every grade from K – 8^th grade!), and a lot of our state history is intertwined with Canadian history; but there’s still a lot for me to learn!

One book you’ve been meaning to read: The Interior Castle, by Theresa of Avila. Also The City of God, by Augustine. I own both, they are sitting on my To-be-read shelf…