Screwed: the Gift of a Flat Tire

"Screwed" CC BY-ND 2.0 by ljv Source: Flickr

     My car had a flat tire this week.

     No blow-out, no collision, no drama; just a slow(ish) leak that left the tire flat. It happens!

After determining that merely re-filling the tire was not going to be effective (I got to watch it slowly deflate again) I called a local mechanic, who was able to help.

     While I know this is their business, their response touched on a number of things:

• They first asked if I could drive it to the shop or if it needed repair at my home - doing their best to meet me where I was.
• They inquired what my driving plans were for the coming days, and on learning I was a single-car household with a scheduled highway trip the next day, worked to fit my plans - taking time to understand the context of my need.
• Resultantly, they adjusted their schedule to accommodate my flat, fitting me in with 15 minutes lead time at the end of the work day - making space for my need.
• They told me up front how long it should take, and offered either a seat there of the suggestion of a nearby coffee shop - making sure I could be comfortable. (A side benefit was having 30 uninterrupted minutes - I got a lot of work done!)
• They fixed the tire, and kept me informed of what was happening (I had picked up a screw and they had plugged it) - so I knew what had caused the problem and what the completed solution was.
• They checked the other tires as well, since I was already there, to make sure all was well - to ensure there were no other immediate problems.
• They charged a reasonable rate, and when I was thanking them profusely they were amused, almost embarrassed, at my gratitude - they did not price gouge in my time of need, or expect to be so appreciated for what they had done.

     It occurred to me, as I drove away, that these folks were exercising their ministry to the best of their ability. While we may not often see such employment as ministry, it clearly is: and it invites us to consider that everything we do is an opportunity to share the gifts and skills that God has given us.

     I'm thankful for that flat tire, as it was a gift to witness this ministry in action.

The Beauty of Falling Leaves

            This time of year, we're watching the leaves changing day by day from their verdant vibrancy to a veritable panoply of colour; gorgeous reds and browns and oranges. It's autumn! Where I live, we had a rather blustery storm this week, and so a lot of leaves dropped rather early.

            It is this dropping of leaves that has spurred several social media memes; citing comments that "the leaves are about to remind us that letting go can be good!" It's a rather saccharine adage unless one considers the benefit of that change.

            And that benefit includes nourishment: the leaves change colour as they cease taking nourishment from the tree; dying so the tree can conserve what nutrients it needs for the winter season. Having ceased their photosynthesis role, they shrivel and fall, creating a blanket of on the ground. This blanket provides shelter for insects and small critters to survive the cold, it insulates the tree roots from the weather, and as leaves break down they provide nutrients for the soil to enrich the growing season come springtime.

            What we find decorative is, in fact, nourishment and sustenance for the ecosystem.

            And, more importantly, what is basic nourishment for the ecosystem is, in fact, beautiful to us.

            In all aspects of our life, we are invited to let things go, to recognise when something has run its course. These things are unique to our own experience and reasoning; even the leaves fall independently of each other.

            Even in our faith journey, this analogy holds: we are the branches, rooted and grounded in God's grace and love. We are challenged to continuously consider our vocation: how God is calling us to grow, to be nourished, and to nourish: through prayer, discussion, meditation, and ongoing discernment with trusted spiritual companions.

            Most often, we discern that the ministry we are called to is mean to continue: and continue we do! When there is an aspect of our lives that is no longer life-giving or sustaining, we are invited to let it go - that we might discern a new ministry to use our emotional and spiritual resources on, we may be opening the door for someone new to exercise their ministry, or we may be allowing a ministry a natural time of laying fallow.

            As Christians we are all growing and learning, engaging in faithful actions at the time and place for all. But for everything there is a season: what a delight that the natural seasons remind us that letting go, at the right time, can be nourishing (both to ourselves and to the community) - and that nourishment is a thing of beauty.

Blessed are the Head-Nodders

"Blessed" by May Yee Ng
CC BY-SA 2.0 Source: Flickr

A Prayer of thanksgiving for those who have blessed my life in the recent past.

Blessed are the head-nodders: who sits in the pew and nods, encouraging me right at the moment when I feel my sermon is falling flat.

Blessed are the fluff-finders: who tell me when my black jacket has white fluff on the back, so I can look my best at an important meeting.

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 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 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 fearless: who agree to do what fear would prevent me from doing (i.e. namely, blessing any snakes at the St. Francis service!)

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

Blessed are the gym "hey!"-sayers: who encourage my efforts, with no judgement of my extended absence.

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

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

Blessed are the grocery-store-smilers: who are happy to see me, and don't care that I'm not really dressed to be seen out in public.

Blessed are the compassionate: who overlook a slightly delayed deadline, because the work is still done.

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

A Life of Prayer

            Many times, I have been asked what a 'typical' day looks like as a parish priest. My answer is the same - aside from prayer, I seldom know!

            That is not to ignore the importance of prayer - quite the opposite, in fact. Any day can lead to any number of encounters - people asking for baptisms, funeral planning, hospital visits, the list goes on. For me, to be invited to pray with and for people as they journey through life is a tremendous privilege; without daily grounding myself in prayer I know I would be less effective as a spiritual leader.

            This week, that privilege was highlighted tremendously. In addition to my daily office, and pastoral visits, it was my week to lead worship in alternative settings: first, at our local hospital's Veterans Unit - which is always a pleasure to connect with those who have served; secondly, at our monthly care home worship; between the two I joined more than 40 enthusiastic lovelies in prayer and praise. It's a tremendous gift to celebrate being the church with those for whom the building no longer defines church.

            I was also delighted to participate in discussions of Anglican formation at the nearby seminary; sharing some of my research and experience of prayer for personal benefit as a parish priest, and the importance of that prayer when exercising our parish ministry. I also had the great honour to preach and preside at a Eucharist with that community, to literally put into practice what I had just shared.

            At other times this week, the unexpected or unknown was couched in prayer: at meetings, in correspondence about discernment, even in an email exchange with a secular business about a customer service issue. The theme of my week was prayer; and what a great gift that is! As Henri Nouwen claimed, it is the only necessary thing.

            So what does a priest's typical day look like? It looks like an opportunity to pray: in words and in actions, in a church or a hallway, in stress or in calm, in established connections and brand-new relationships. A day looks like prayer: for that I thank God.