Re-Arranged

A couple of weeks ago, our office was gifted a bouquet of flowers – a stunning collection of blooms perfectly opened.

We certainly enjoyed them! The colours were vibrant, the perfume appealing; they offered a smile to us as we got into the office each day.

Until… they started to lose their freshness, as cut flowers so quickly do. The purple alstroemeria was fading, the ferns turned brown, even the hydrangeas were starting to droop. The water was murky, the scent no longer delightful.

Alas! Time to go to the compost bin!

Except… not all of the flowers were past their prime. The pink roses still brought their colour, the yellow carnations were unfaded, the one hydrangea still shone a bright white.

So, we removed what needed to be removed, and we changed the water, and trimmed the stems, and created a new bouquet.

Sure, it’s less fancy, and smaller, and it will be a shorter-lasting bouquet than when it was new, but we were not ready to part with the whole thing yet. And, the remaining flowers continue to bring us happiness.

Likewise, our faith journey can invite us to similar adaptations. As we grow and mature, we realise it’s time to let go of some things; they have served their purpose, they have brought joy, but we’re ready to part with them now.

And other things are still contributing to our life, their ongoing beauty allows us to recognise the opportunity to keep what is of benefit.

The flowers fade; the faith keeps growing; and the vase gets ready to receive some new blooms when the time is right.

Support

The rectory’s clothesline broke this past week.

In fairness, it was an old line that had been showing signs of wear and tear both in the line and the wheels. And of course once wear begins, we know it’s easier for wear to continue – and that process can in fact be accelerated because of the wear.

The line is also strung through an overhanging tree, whose branches prevent about half of the line from being used. So every wash that was hung meant a disproportionate weight dispersal.

Alas: I hung a load of laundry, only to go out and find it on the ground, the line snapped neatly in two. Recognising this as an inconvenience, not a crisis; I reflected on the line.

The basic premise was that the support was gone. A clothesline can have a failure at any time, based on one point. If the upright pole had fallen, or the screws fastening the wheels come loose, or the line wore through – gravity takes over.

Our lives can be like that too, when we limit ourselves to singular points of contact and support. Our relationships may wear and tire, they may loosen, they may bear uneven weights. This is not judgment, but the practicalities of life. And this does not mean that they will break, nor does it mean that they can’t be mended.

But with Christian community, we are blessed with a different type of support: we live in a web of interconnections, a network of many points of contact. We become a system of support, being upheld by the others in our community while we are involved in upholding them. Because we have chosen to weave our lives together as the church, we are all upheld by God.

And so we acknowledge that life sometimes throws a lot of wear and tear at us; but by God’s grace we do not break.

And we realise that life can loosen what were strong bonds; but by the love of Christ we remain connected.

And we delight in the opportunity to be repairers for others in their journey, giving thanks that the Spirit moved (and moves!) others to support us.

The kingdom of God is one of shared support and mutual benefit. What a privilege to be a participant in this celebration of support.

The Gift of Garlic

I enjoy garlic. That unique spicy flavour is part of my food on nearly a daily basis –as a seasoning for my dried lentil snacks, fried in my eggs for a taste kick, roasted as a spread for crackers, sautéed with onions as a base for soup… garlic. Yum.

So it’s not unusual to find a bulb (or several) sitting on the kitchen counter.

This weekend, however, the bulb on the counter is sitting in pride-of-place.

This particular bulb was a gift: a homegrown bulb of garlic, gifted to me (alongside some snap peas and a squash!).

And so, the garlic has taken on a different meaning. I’ll still use it in the same ways as I would use any other garlic, obviously! This garlic will not go to waste.

But this garlic also serves to remind me of conversations in a friendly relationship; it speaks of companions on a journey together through psalms and prayers; it grew not only from the ground but of sharing book suggestions and life stories and jokes and struggles and celebrations and so much more.

The garlic is a gift of faith and friendship. It is so much more than just a plant, it is a testimony to connection and community.

In a time when we have all endured COVID restrictions and isolations, when we are all at different comfort levels for returning to group activities, when we are re-learning how to be society again, and when we are still hesitant for potential variants and ‘waves’, the garlic is a gift of reaching out – and for that I give thanks to God!

When TLA's are OTT

An email this week got me thinking about acronyms – TLA’s to be precise. (Three Letter Acronyms). The note was full of information. But much of it used acronyms and short-forms; as such, if the reader was not ‘in the know’, it looked a bit like a secret code. (To be honest, even as someone ‘in the know’, I had to re-read several sentences to parse out what they were saying.)

Now, with any institution, acronyms become commonplace. But they can become a little OTT (Over The Top) – and when they do, communications can be cloudy or confused. In some spaces, context is helpful: CBC on the radio is a broadcast station, whereas in a hospital setting it’s a blood test; BS in a pastor’s calendar can mean Bible Study, in conversation it can mean… something else.

In communications, however, acronyms can become unintentional barriers. If we aren’t clear about what we’re inviting someone to; for example, an invitation to an ARE group in one church may mean ‘adult religious education’ and in another ‘anti-racist exploration’ – both are good things, but can have a very different focus.

We also may prevent folks from outside the church from connecting with us, when we use too much of our internal lingo. A church sign that reads “8BCP/10BASwSS” may be clear to us (8.00 am Book of Common Prayer/10.00 am Book of Alternative Services with Sunday School) can be baffling and off-putting to a newcomer.

When we are trying to live out the gospels, perhaps it’s best to take a lesson from the followers of Jesus: to speak in plain language, in a manner that is understood by the people, in a structure that is welcoming. After all, the Kingdom of God is not the KoG! Let’s do all we can to make our worship and service as clear and useful as possible.

On Jell-O and Jesus!

"Rainbow Jello" CC BY-ND 2.0 by Andrea.Pacheco
Source: Flickr

I had a conversation this week about Jell-O: that wiggly colourful gelatinous dessert. My friend and I were discussing how it reminds us of childhood, as it was such a ubiquitous part of that time: being found in salads and moulds, with fruit in it or by itself, in vibrant rainbow layers or muted when mixed with cream. It was food for a sick child, a cooling force for a sore throat, a hospital-meal staple as it had staying power; even as a spiked treat for older party-goers. We even shared the format: how a minor reduction in water content changed this jelly from a mushy dessert to a ‘jiggler’ of specified forms (stars or cubes or whatever else!).

Part of the popularity of this dessert was, of course, its accessibility: it’s a hard thing to do ‘wrong’ as the recipe is so simple. It’s also an inexpensive dessert, affordable off the shelf and without the need for special equipment at home to make.

Part of the popularity was its versatility: there was always a new way to use this ingredient – as a basis for a dish, as a dish itself, or as an adherent hiding within another dish. It could be used in savoury or sweet dishes. And, (with the exceptions of vegetarians and religious restrictions), it was an ingredient that could be presented to just about anyone.

These days, while it’s not *as* popular, it can still be found – readily – at picnics and parties, at every grocery store in the dessert aisle and in many kitchen pantries. It’s flexible, it’s versatile, it’s adaptable, it’s timeless.

Much as our faith should be!

Perhaps as we continue in the heat of the summer, and as we are re-opening to social gatherings, we can learn from the Jell-O experience – and demonstrate our faith in ways that are flexible, versatile, and timeless. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we became as enthusiastic about sharing our faith journey as we are about sharing our favourite recipes and flavours.

J-E-S-U-S!

What Are You Reading?

I’ve had a few conversations this week about books: what people are reading, how they enjoy it, do they recommend it, etc..

This is not a huge surprise, I’ve been a life-long lover of literature! Part of what I enjoy is talking about books – discussing the characters, the plot twists, the impact. And, of course, the intention of reading.

So right now, it’s not surprising that we’re discussing summer reads – those light-hearted enjoyable easy novels (because summer is great for fiction!) that go well with iced tea on the deck.

One of the great joys I have in discussing books is the overall acceptance that people have of other readers. There’s seldom animosity between genres or authors; we all appreciate books in our own ways. I dislike horror but enjoy mysteries, a friend prefers romances to historical fiction, etc. Our differences are not divisions!

Perhaps this is a trend we can pick up on, in general conversation and living. We don’t need to be identical in thinking to get along, we don’t need to all have the same preferences to spend time together, we don’t even need to have the same allegiances to find a common ground for conversation.

Maybe a simple conversation about books is a great way to start the journey to a shared adventure in life. In a time where so much engagement feels antagonistic, perhaps book chat can help bring us back closer to middle ground.

So… what are you reading?

Worth Saving

    I got some local strawberries this weekend. A lot of them, in fact. Many of them have already transitioned to their new state of being: dehydrated strawberry slices! And many more are headed in the same direction.

I dehydrate a lot of fruit as it comes fresh and local; one of my habits is a breakfast of oatmeal and fruit – and with dehydrated fruit, I can toss in a handful when I am cooking the oats, and enjoy the sweet taste of local produce year-round. It has some slight flavour variations, of course, but I find pure delight in those strawberries in the dead of winter.

The preservation process takes a little bit of time, and a little bit of work, but I find it worthwhile.

This reminds me of our spiritual journey in these times. Today, for the first time in months, we are gathering again in the church building. While we *know* that the church is the people and the ministries, it is empowering for so many to be in an ages-old house of prayer; a space filled with memories of spiritual nourishment for so long.

So today I’m thinking about what we keep – what we preserve. As we are heading ever forward (because backward in time really doesn’t work!), we are invited to do so with intentionality. We know that we are not “going back to normal” – as if a normal ever existed in the past. But what we are moving into can carry the aspects that were positive for us – that were nourishing for us. What we preserved from the past, in our traditions and memories and practices – can be the fruits for the future age of faith tradition.

So what are you preserving? What do you want to carry forward to a post-COVID church?