Conducted!

Photo by SSO

In the past few weeks, I’ve been fortunate to sing with a couple of choirs, and to have attended a couple of musical concerts.

In each case, there has been a conductor: the person who seems to get all the applause, and who is the ‘front and centre’ for the performances. For those who aren’t familiar with the processes, it may seem strange to just have one person – the one person who is not themselves part of the production of the music – be on the receiving end of the accolades.

Admittedly, it’s common for conductors to fully acknowledge the musicians, and invite recognition of the efforts of the performance to go to the performers.

Conductors from Dixit - SSO

However: conductors are not simply stand-ins or time-keepers: far from it!
Conductors are musicians themselves, and their role requires them to have extensive knowledge of every part individually. Each part is beautiful and emotive in its own right; but the conductor then uses this knowledge to weave together the component parts of multiple instruments and voices in ways that create an output that is greater than the sum of the parts.

The conductor also embraces this knowledge, with an ability to engage and encourage each instrument’s part, using their skill to tease out increasingly impressive musicality, to enhance and uplift the gifts of others.

There are nuanced adjustments made, as the conductor realises the conversation and interplay of so many parts, coalescing for the enhancement of the music and the benefit the audience.

Conductors do a LOT! And their entire purpose is to make the musicians perform to the best of their ability, honouring the composer of the piece, and sounding as wonderful as possible.

Having been conducted (and with another concert next week) – I have learned to have tremendous appreciation for conductors! The folks I’ve worked with have been examples of grace and positivity, going out of their way to be affirming and encouraging, inspiring and empowering for us. They are there not to just direct music, but to build us up and strengthen community – music is just the conduit for their ministries.

It's been a delightful time to reflect on being conducted… and to ponder about the potential to be conductors in all aspects of life. How might we engage with folks in our social circles to extend and bring about compassion, to encourage grace, to uphold expressions of love? How can we mentor, guide, and accompany others on their journey, that leaves them feeling good about the good work they have done in what they offer to the world?

 

“How was New York?”

“How was New York?”

I’ve been asked this question a lot this week, and expect I will be asked it again more in the weeks to come.
The past 2 weeks I’ve spent, as has become my normal March practice, attending and participating in the UN Commission on the Status of Women, as part of the delegation of the Anglican Communion. This year I attended one week in person, one week remotely.

So how *was* New York?
Well, it was good; it was inspiring; it was intense.

Digging deeper into how it was will take a lot more time to process and unpack… but how was it?
It was inspiring: sharing and learning from others in the delegation – Lulu whose young age does not diminish her undeniable passion for ecological advocacy; Larissa who brings experience and confidence to her voice calling for indigenous rights; Dominic whose advocacy for positive masculinity is changing the world; Lizzi whose commitment to stand with victims of GBV is making us all safer (not to mention a great roommate!!). And of course our leadership of Mandy (Gender Justice Advocate extraordinaire, with sarcasm to match mine!) and Martha (a God-given gift of the Anglican Communion to the UN – and to us!)

It was educational: sitting in sessions discussing youth in agrifood and food security; of the uses of data to change sexist behaviours; of new technologies and practices that are maknig a positive change at the grass-roots levels.

It was harrowing: to hear of the pushbacks against women’s rights; to learn of ongoing child marriage; to hear of those strategising for the current geopolitical climate with strong links to historical horrors; to get updated statistics of violence against women and girls.

It was sad: to know that 30 years after the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action, we’re still struggling for equality; to experience a municipal climate of increased security and harassment; to understand the increasing threat to women in the digital and public spheres.

It was hopeful: to hear voices seeking work-arounds; to collaborate with faith-based agencies combatting climate change; to hear of new ways to apply our intersectionality, to engage in conversations with diplomats and permanent missions seeking new ways to achieve the 2030 Agenda and SDGs.

And it was holy: to worship with women and men who recognise God in the work they do; to walk alongside those whose burdens are too big to bear; to collaborate in our ecumenical space reminding ourselves that we are never alone; to lean into our faith to carry us through. To appreciate our focus scripture in new ways: (“The exercise of justice is joy for the righteous” – Proverbs 21:15a (NASB)

New York was busy. It was a time to laugh together, to cry together, to pray together. To break bread together, to worship in the sacred places of the CCUN chapel, Trinity Wall St., and St John’s Cathedral (the other St. John’s!), to develop liturgies that brought us from justice to joy. To walk and talk; to see a few sights as we try to balance the heaviness of the event with the joy of our shared journey. It was late nights and early mornings, it was a lot of walking, a lot of eating, a lot of experiences of wondering “is this for real?” (like meeting royalty, or going to a meeting with the Mission of the Holy See. In my collar. And asking them a question they couldn’t answer. That was fun…)*

I have so much to consider; I have so many blessings to count; I have more love than I can express for the beloved who shared this year’s experience with me.

So how was New York?
Bucket-filling. Life-changing. Awe-inspiring. Grace-abundant. And fuelling – for the opportunity to do the work that God has called us to, here at home; to change the world.




*as the conversation was with folks who are focused on climate issues, I asked if there were emerging eco-feminist authors that they could recommend… being the geek that I am… they suggested a 10-year old male-authored encyclical. I mean, it’s a good one, but….

Exceptional!

One of the privileges of parish ministry is sharing in worship; in our community the Wednesday Noon Eucharist is a delightfully calm and casual time together (followed by a delightful bring-your-own lunch, with much sharing and laughing)

This past week, our Gospel for the day was from the beginning of Mark 6, where Jesus is rejected in his hometown. verses 4-5 read: Then Jesus said to them, ‘Prophets are not without honour, except in their home town, and among their own kin, and in their own house.’ And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them.

It can be easy to focus on the relative weakness in the context; and how from this pericope Jesus and his disciples leave and bestows authority on them to engage in their shared ministry.

Except….

Except that the perception of weakness isn’t accurate.

Jesus is not weak! God is not diminished by a few folks who aren’t able to wrap their minds around what the person they thought they knew really is.

To suggest that the Christ was without power is more, to me, an indication that the people in his hometown were unwilling to receive the gifts of power that Jesus was offering.

For if Jesus was truly powerless, he would have done no healings there. But instead we are told “EXCEPT” that he performed miraculous healings before traveling on their way.

This is not a small or insignificant “except” – and I encouraged our Wednesday group to lean in to the “except” when they see it. For sometimes the “except” is actually “exceptional”, to those who are willing and able to receive it.

What a privilege to have the faith to live in the “except” moments that God gives us – the tiny moments of beauty, the life-changing moments of grace, the life-long expressions of love.

May we have eyes to see and ears to hear the exceptional Good News that God is proclaiming to us!

Happy Groundhog Day!

Screengrab from Episcopal Church Memes

Happy Groundhog Day!
Rodent-alia? Feast of the Earth-Pig?

With roots in the Germanic lore, the Pennsylvania Dutch brought the idea to North America – that animals could predict the forthcoming weather, depending on their appearance and/or if they see their shadow.

It’s become a fun tradition, be it with a badger (Germany), bear (Hungary), or groundhog (North America); hinting at winter’s duration lasting a potential four or six more week – regardless of location or clime! Sitting right between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, we know winter is going to continue - and can choose to embrace it or not.

Since the early 1990’s, the concept of Groundhog Day has been more strongly connected not to the Imbolc or Candlemas traditions, but to the film starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell – in which one character gets caught in a time-loop, reliving February 2 (almost) interminably.

While the philosophy of the film tends to be secondary to the comedic aspects, it’s a fascinating concept to see how the individual reacts and responds to his circumstance; from taking advantage of no long-term consequences, to depression at no advancement, to desperation, to finally recognising he could use his situation to try and better the world for others around him. It’s only when he allows himself to be open to love that the time loop ceases, and he awakes to February 3rd.

So this Groundhog Day – we can choose how we want to live. We can be intentional with the choices that we make – they can reflect the person that we want to be; they can demonstrate the power of goodness and love to the world. They can be whimsical (like searching for a rodents’ shadow) or serious (like helping the vulnerable in our community).

Whether we look for a shadow or for light; whether we consider the film an amusement or a philosophical consideration – it is Groundhog Day. Why not make the most of it – whatever *it* may be – and do our best to loe freely - and make the world a better place.

Pieces of Happiness

I like puzzles.

I have a ‘puzzle table’ set up in my main room, I have a puzzle mat, and puzzle-piece trays, and several shelves of puzzles. Some are abstract designs, some are thematic, some are cartoons. Some came as gifts or carry memories, some are larger than others, some are substantially more difficult.

A few weeks ago, I started a new-to-me puzzle that looked intriguing – a labyrinthine design of solid white and green. There’s no texture, no shadow, no nuance, the piece shapes are not all unique. The lines are straight with few identifying features. It’s a doozy.

As I said, I like puzzles. I only recently returned to the practice of having a jigsaw puzzle on the go at any time. I enjoy the time spent doing puzzles as a chance to listen to an audiobook, or contemplate some thoughts of the day. It’s relaxing.

So when the green-and-white puzzle became more of a burden than a joy, I realised I wasn’t going near it. I gave it a few weeks of sitting out, with several frustrated attempts, before I admitted that this was not accomplishing its purpose.

So I put it away. Maybe in the future I’ll want to try it again; maybe I won’t.
And I pulled out another puzzle, with an easier design, which went together surprisingly quickly. It brought me joy, it engaged me, it was overall fun to complete.

And it brought me back into the practice of puzzling; I’m keen to start on the next one from the shelf. I have no regrets about packing up the labyrinth; not everything is going to be a good fit every time.

Life can be like those puzzles: sometimes challenging, sometimes exciting, sometimes entertaining. My thought is that when the pieces of life aren’t fitting for us, it’s okay to shelf them for a bit – and focus on finding things that will feed us.

Connections

I like playing word games; I do a daily crossword, my Scrabble game is well used, I play some online games over my morning coffee.

A big part of the fun for me is not just the success of completing such a game, but of the strategy behind it; in a crossword it’s the puns and wordplay, in Scrabble it’s the placement of letters for maximising score, in wordle it’s adjusting the probabilities of letters and combinations to discover which precise word is “the” answer.

One of the online word games I play is “Connections”, where a grid of 16 words has to be sorted into 4 categories of 4 words each. They can be simple or involve wordplay or puns, and the categories do not relate to each other. The challenge comes from not only needing the general knowledge in any category to understand how the word fits, but also in discerning the wordplay and multiple meanings or applications of each of the words. It can take some time, and often more than a little mental gymnastics!

It's not unlike a mingling of people; trying to find ways that they connect. Some connections are simple; all the dog lovers in one grouping, all the folks who can name football players in another. Some connections are a bit more tenuous, like shared history experiences like education or travel or workplace. Some are even more difficult to connect; like finding a third point of connection, or interest group.

The insight of Connections (the word game) is that whether I can see it or not, there are connections that exist; not unlike when we come together in community. Sometimes what we think will be a Connection turns out to be only 2 or 3 words linking up; this doesn’t negate their connection, it just means it doesn’t fit within this particular grid. This too can be like community; where we can appreciate that we’re not meant to be best friends with everyone, accepting that we don’t have to fit entirely and perfectly with all places and people. (Some of our neighbours are lovely people, we just don’t want invite them to dinner.) And sometimes, the connection is evident and easy to see, and flows naturally; at other times the connection takes some work to understand; like our human relations.

The analogy could go on; but I know the joy of being part of a community as it seeks out connections between people, knowing that if we commit enough genuine interest in one another, we can find ways to connect, to communicate, to share, to grow.
I see this every time our churches gather; where newcomers are welcomed in, where long-established friendships continue to thrive, where we continue to strengthen our bonds with each other as we engage in our various ministries. Where no one is alone; for we know from the start – like the 16 individual words – that we are part of something larger and stronger, something that ensures we are just waiting for the next connection to be made.

My New Year Beatitudes

A prayer of thanksgiving for those who have recently blessed my life.

Blessed are the pew smilers: who sit in the pew and nod, encouraging me even in the tired sermons of a low Sunday.

Blessed are the fluff-finders: who remove the (seemingly unending) dog fluff from my sweater.

Blessed are the phone-answerers: the friend who answers my call even when busy, because even 30 seconds of connection brings a smile to both our faces.

Blessed are the collaborators: who commit to working together, trusting me to share in a task too big for any of us to do alone.

Blessed are the safe-spacers: who share a trust to be entirely vulnerable about life’s realities.

Blessed are the name-users: who intentionally interject my name while we are chatting, as though it is a sacred word.

Blessed are the complimenters: who seek an honest positivity to elevate each conversation.

Blessed are the picture-senders: who share their life with me through unremarkable daily  images, or remind me of a long-standing joke with a humorous GIF.

Blessed are the patient, who know my lack of phoning is because life has happened, and time zones are unforgiving.

Blessed are the joy-seekers: whose focus inspires all around them to also seek and share joy.

Blessed are the laughers: who go out of their way to share in happiness (and don't care that I'm loud!)

Blessed are the texters: who send messages that convey love and kinship, regardless of distance.

Blessed are the pausers: who pause after asking how I am today, because they really want to listen to my response.

Blessed are the Zoomers: who share lengthy chats full of joy, even when it’s been too long (and when hugs just can’t happen).

Blessed are the huggers: who reach out their arms to ensure that love is felt.

Blessed are the gracious: who don't care about the tumbleweeds of dog-hair on the floor, because they have come to see me (not a perfect house).

Blessed are the noticers: who see subtle nuance and inquire gently about the change.

Blessed are all my friends: whose very presence makes the world a better place, and inspire me to be the best version of myself.