Day 24 of Spiritual Practices and Reflections: Some invitations to Give (Or: Giving as a spiritual practice)

Back in October, during our "Mapping a Life" worship series, I said this about gratitude and generosity: 

“All that we have is a loan from life itself…. The world doesn’t owe us anything…. We owe the world and its abundant miracles…our gratitude, our praise…. The spirit map suggests that we live with humility and gratitude at the center of our lives. 

Gratitude opens the heart to generosity. When we’re really grounded in gratitude, we can remember that it’s all on loan. We don't get to take it with us; it’s not ours to keep—it’s not our to begin with—so we might as well share the blessings; we might as well become generous.” (You can listen to the whole sermon here.)

For the past five years, I have been focusing on truly living from a place of gratitude and generosity. It's not always easy, but as I've written about before, almost every morning, when I write, reflect, and spend some time in prayer, I try to identify at least three things in my life that I'm grateful for. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it's hard. But living from this place of gratitude changes my inner life and how I am in the world. Gratitude invites me to give back, to serve the world. As a faith community, we strive to practice giving, gratitude, and generosity. Here are a few of the ways we do that: 

If you're a part of the First Universalist community, I hope you'll join us for our Day of Service, Feb 4. We have over 30 different projects going on that day, as we serve (give back) to the wider community. We've challenged ourselves to give 2000 hours of service to the community on Feb. 4, and we've got service projects for families, youth, and people of all ages. If you're in the Twin Cities, I hope you'll sign up and participate. And feel free to invite a friend to join you, too! (It's worth noting that many of these Day of Service groups continue to work and give together throughout the year, so it's not just a one time event.)

The Day of Service is part of First Universalist's Annual Giving Campaign (our Pledge Campaign). During the month of February,  not only are we invited to give our time and energy to the wider community, via the Day of Service, but we're also invited to give generously to the church (3-5% of our income) to support its mission and work in the world. 

Finally, each Sunday, as a faith community, we have a chance to practice giving and generosity, as we give away the majority of our Sunday offering. This past year, as a faith community, we've given away over $60,000 to non-profits and organizations in the wider community.

(And I haven't even mentioned the hundreds of congregants who give their time and energy to serve on the Board or as Small Group Facilitators, or Religious Education Teachers, or Strategic Plan Working Group Facilitators, or ushers, greeters, or coffee servers...)

Ultimately, none of the numbers truly matter; what matters is the story behind the numbers: how our hearts are changed, opened, and stretched by gratitude, giving, and generosity. What matters is how the church helps us become "Love's People," grounded in gratitude and generosity.

How has your heart been opened/expanded by gratitude, giving, or generosity? How can you imagine deepening your practice of giving, of generosity?

Day 14 of Spiritual Practices and Reflection: Serving others (or: "It's not all about you")

On Feb 4, 2012, First Universalist will hold its 2nd annual day of service. Last year, during our day of service, over 400 congregants helped contribute 1500 hours to our community. We served with Habitat for Humanity, Simpson Shelter, Ascension Place, Harriet Tubman Center, and dozens of other places. It was a remarkable experience, as we came together to serve the wider community. 


Here's a video, made by a youth team in our church, that invites members and friends to participate in this year's Feb 4th day of service: 

Rachel Naomi Remen, medical doctor and author, says this about service:

Serving makes us aware of our wholeness and its power. The wholeness in us serves the wholeness in others and the wholeness in life. The wholeness in you is the same as the wholeness in me. Service is a relationship between equals: our service strengthens us as well as others...service is renewing. When we serve, our work itself will renew us...in serving we find a sense of gratitude.

Serving is a way of being in the world, a practice. It's not about us or our needs; it's about wholeness, relationships, partnering with others, and it changes our orientation in the world. It's about getting outside of ourselves and entering the larger current of life. And when we serve together, I think we understand ourselves as a faith community in new and powerful ways. I'll never forget last year, on the Sunday after the day of service, when we invited everyone who had served on the day of service to stand up - and more than half the congregation stood. It was remarkable, the joy, energy, and gratitude we all felt.  


In what ways do you serve in your life? How has serving changed your life? Do you regularly make time to serve others, in ways large and small? How do you feel when you are served by another? Are you able to receive their gifts, their loving service?


If you're in town, I hope you'll join us for our day of service on Feb 4, 2012. Invite a friend! And if you're willing to be a point person for a project on the day of service, please let me know. 

Day 4 of Spiritual Practices and Reflection: Giving Thanks

The Mission Statement of First Universalist Church is:

In the Universalist Spirit of love and hope, we give, receive, and grow.

I've blogged about the "Give" part of this Mission Statement before (here: "The Best Gift Ever?") It's a deceptively simple Mission Statement, and the "Give" part especially. As a faith community, we're being called to give our attention, to pay attention, in new and different ways. Giving our full attention, to ourselves, to others, to the Spirit of Life/the Holy, opens us up, changes us, and allows us to get clear about what matters and what other gifts we might have to give the world. 


Paying attention (giving our attention) can allow us to see our lives differently, to notice and give thanks for the gifts, people, and experiences that fill our lives....all of which can be invisible unless we're paying attention.


So today's reflection question is this: "What have you noticed in the past 24 hours that you are thankful for, that you don't want to forget?  What blessing or moment of grace landed in your life yesterday? What experience, or conversation, out of the hundreds you had yesterday, stands out to you? What happened in the past 24 hours that you are deeply thankful for? And how might you express that gratitude? Is there someone to call? A note to write? A journal entry to make? A way you can pay this gratitude forward?"


As I look back over the past 24 hours of my life, my heart opens in gratitude for the time yesterday the church Management Team spent reflection on the question, "What is saving your life right now?" Our emerging practice, as a Management Team, is to spend the first part of our meeting doing some kind of spiritual reflection/spiritual direction work together, before we dig into our "work" agenda. I was deeply moved by the depth of what was shared yesterday. Thank you, management team. 

Poem In Thanks

Lord Whoever, thank you for this air

I'm about to in- and exhale, this hutch

in the woods, the wood for fire,

the light - both lamp and the natural stuff

of leaf - back, fern and wing,

For the Piano, the shovel

for ashes, the moth-gnawed

blankets, the stone-cold water

stone cold: thank you.

Thank you, Lord, coming for

to carry me here -- where I'll gnash

it out, Lord, where I'll calm 

and work, Lord, thank you

for the goddamn birds singing!

-Thomas Lux

If you're a new reader of this blog, and in the Twin Cities, you're welcome to come worship with us on Sundays, at 9:30 and 11:15, as we continue our "Living Resolutions" sermon series. More information here.

Trusting the Gift: Some Advent Reflections

(NOTE: This is a longish post...a modified version of the message I delivered on Dec 4, 2011. You can listen to the whole message here, if you'd prefer.)

The Suspicions of Joseph - by Rainer Maria Rilke

And the Angel spoke, not without carefully hearing
This man who stood there with his fists tightened.
“But isn’t it clear from the very fold of her dress
That she is as cool as the morning mist?” 

The man however looked at him with suspicion
And said, “I want to know how this happened.”
The Angel spoke louder:  “You woodworker,
Don’t you see any mark of God at all in this? 

“Just because you know how to make planks
Out of tree trunks, are you unable to imagine
One who can bring forth leaves
And pregnant buds out of the same wood?” 

He got it. And the instant he lifted
His deeply shocked eyes to the Angel,
The Angel was gone.  He took hold of his cap
And pulled it off slowly.  And what he sang was a hymn.

What happened to Joseph? What could Joseph have been thinking and feeling after this exchange with the angel? Whatever it was, his only response was to sing a hymn of praise.

Please don’t tune out just because I’m talking about angels! Don’t tune out, because this story doesn’t pass the logic test. Don’t tune out, because I promise there is a deeper truth here, one we all need to hear.

We’re in the middle of Advent.  As you know, Advent, in the Western Christian Tradition, is the four weeks before Christmas. It a time of anticipation, waiting, slowing down, getting clear about what really matters --- as people prepare their hearts for the birth of Jesus into the world, the promise of a hope coming back into a dark world.

  

“This Advent season,” as John Buchanan recently wrote in the Christian Century, “plays out against the backdrop of a materialist culture at its gaudiest, most materialistic, most vulgar…Advent responds by reminding us that a child will be born in the midst of a world and a time very much like our own, that the reconciliation and redemption his birth promises is not separate from the world, and that he will call us to follow him (or her) and be his (or her) people in this same sad, greedy, vulgar and beautiful world. His (her) birth, which dark Advent anticipates, will be a light in the darkness that darkness will not overcome.”

During this time, many turn to Mary and Joseph, as they wait with them for the arrival of their baby. Thus, the “The Suspicions of Joseph.”

This poem invites us to imagine what Joseph was going through when he got the news.  We’re invited to really land in that place of suspicion, doubt, and uncertainty.  And if you’ve long ago dismissed this story as “not real,” I invite you to look again, below the surface.

In the poem, it’s clear that Joseph has ran straight into a wall of unknowing. All of his worldly knowledge can’t explain what’s happening.  What he knows is that his wife is pregnant and he is pretty darn sure he’s not the father.  And he’s a little steamed, with a lot of questions.

And the angel carefully listens to this man who stands there with his fists tightened, asking, “I want to know how this happened,”  And this angel says to him:

“Just because you know how to make planks
Out of tree trunks, are you unable to imagine
One who can bring forth leaves
And pregnant buds out of the same wood?”

And Joseph gets it. Something beyond words happens to him. A mystery. His deeply shocked eyes look for the angel, but the angel is gone. And he begins to sing a hymn. 

So I think of Joseph and I wonder if maybe, somehow, in that moment with the Angel, Joseph gave up his illusion of control over life’s events. I wonder if in that moment, he was filled with holy wonder and fear, and understood on some deep level that the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Life, was with him and with Mary…was at work in the world…even if he couldn’t understand all the details?

I wonder.

And Mary, dear Mary. She’s not in this poem, but we know from the Biblical text, as author Kathleen Norris writes, that “Mary proceeds – as we all must do in life – making her commitment without knowing much about what it will entail or where it will lead.”  

Both Mary and Joseph “get it,” they trust that something greater than themselves moves with them, and they say yes, without knowing where it will lead.

And really, isn’t this what any committed partnership or marriage is like? We say, “I do, I promise, I will…,” but what do those promises really entail, and where will they lead? We do it; we trust that something beyond our knowing can emerge from such a partnership.

And isn’t this also what having children is like? Or seeking to adopt? We move forward in some sort of faith. We set off down a path, we make a commitment, say “yes,” not knowing where it will lead us. Perhaps there’s joy and wonder at the arrival of a new life, or heart break that things didn’t work out the way we thought they would. And yet, would we undo the original yes?

And isn’t this what moving a loved one into hospice care is all about, too? You face the reality of what is, not knowing exactly what it entails, but trusting that you can walk that path.

And then there’s the death of a loved one, and the questions. How will I move forward? How can I go on? And yet, we do, carried by something we can barely name.

In every case - marriage, birth, children, death - the illusion of control, of sure knowing, dissolves; our knowledge fails us…and we are swept up in awe and terror and wonder. And perhaps, out of that place, we sing like Joseph did.

Let me come at this from another direction. If you’ve ever been to one of First Universalist’s Solstice services, you know that the central part of the service is when all the lights in the Sanctuary go out, and we sit in the darkness together. For me, something happens in that darkness, as we sit together, something beyond knowledge, words, rational mind. As the drum in that service sounds out a human heart beat, I feel myself cast into a timeless space, a womb of darkness, a space of awe, terror, wonder.

My name loses its meaning, all the ways I maintain the illusion of control in my life, they collapse. And the darkness comes bearing gifts that cannot be explained. Emmanuel. God is with us. The Source of Life is with us. The Heartbeat of Life is with us, in the darkness – as we face the eternal mystery.

I think of these lines from a Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem:

“I had a vision of infinity I never told you about.
I was ten, on our trip to the farm – a sow was in labor.
You were all keeping vigil in the barn.
By myself I walked back to the house.
A television was on, no one watching it, just on.
  I sat on the couch. For a moment between programs
The screen swirled an outer-space landscape,
Stars and galaxies, dazzling miracles of light.
Suddenly something dropped –
It was the first moment I knew I would die.
I would not always be healthy, brown, breathing easy inside my skin.
And then I fell farther, I lost my name, the month,
I traveled deeper than I had ever gone,
Back behind the point where I began,
Before I became someone knowing herself as someone.
I became that endless black beyond the stars,
Knowing nothing, not knowing what it had not known,
And realized it was where I was going,
Just as it was where I had been.
 For seconds, Mother, or maybe minutes,
I was no longer your child or anything human.
And then the screen changed and Walt Disney took over and I switched it off and wandered out into the dark.”

We have such moments in our lives, moments that no textbook or curriculum can prepare us for, moments when it becomes clear that all we thought we knew is simply inadequate to explain the mystery at the heart of things.  These moments, terrifying, heart stopping, amazing as they may be, are like a gift, but not a gift we thought to ask for. Instead of suspicion, clenched fists, and anger, may we embrace the gift. May we trust that God/Love/Life is with us in those moments, in the darkness, in the mystery, and if we speak, may we speak only awe, singing, “Hallelujah.”

Daily Spiritual Practice: Gratitude

A few posts ago, I blogged about the spiritual practice of keeping a "daily gratitude journal." I have a regular spiritual practice of writing, praying, and reflecting on gratitude - and I thought I'd share what that looks like for me:

 Dec 5, 2011

"I thank You God for most this amazing day..." Thank You for the walk to church yesterday, in the fresh fallen snow. It was still dark out when I began my walk, but I was warmed by thoughts of who I'd encounter at church, and by the hot cup of coffee I carried in my mug. The streets were empty. The sky held the faintest hints of the morning sun, but it was still mostly dark. As I walked down the silent, beautiful streets and sidewalks, I reminded myself that the world doesn't owe me anything: not my health, or the hot coffee (which I did not grow, harvest, roast, or pack), or anything else, for that matter. I reminded myself that I am utterly dependent on those around me, and so many that I do not know. As I walked, I gave thanks for a body that mostly works; for family and friends that hold and support me; for the faith community I am blessed to serve. I try to take none of this for granted, because things won't always be this way.

"I thank You God for most this amazing day..." Thank You for the powerful, healing conversations that took place at church yesterday. I was surprised and delighted by the interactions I had with long time members and guests. I was deeply touched and reminded of how important a faith community is and can be. (And thanks, also, for a worship hour filled with moving and soul stirring music.)

"I thank You God for most this amazing day..." Thank you for the walk home from church...and the chance to unwind...and  for the call from my Amicus friend, and for the chance to put my son to bed, to rock him and sing him "silly songs" before he fell asleep...

And thank You for the ongoing, creative, spirit filled work of the Occupy Movement, here in the Twin Cities and around the country, who continue to highlight the troubling economic disparities in this country, and call out the ways that money corrupts our democracy...I am with them in spirit.     

 

There's more, of course, but it's of a more personal nature, and not something I feel comfortable putting on a blog...but you get the basic gist of one of my core practices and what it looks like.

What daily spiritual practices help ground and orient your life?

 

Reflections on an Interfaith Thanksgiving Service

Last Thursday, I participated in the annual Minneapolis Downtown Clergy Interfaith Thanksgiving Service. I've just recently joined this group, so this was the first time I've been a part of the service. 


As a Unitarian Universalist, interfaith services are not new to me, but none-the-less, this service was a powerful experience, as Jews, Christians, Muslims, Unitarian Universalists and people from all walks of life worshiped together at Plymouth Congregational Church. 


If every there was a day for an interfaith service, Thanksgiving is that day. What united us during that service was not a set dogma, or doctrine, but gratitude, praise, and awe. (Things near and dear to my heart; I've blogged about gratitude here, and here.) What united us, beyond belief, was love - love for the creation/creator, love for our neighbors - known and yet to be known - love for the lives we have been blessed with, and the people who nourish and support our lives. 


Gratitude, praise, awe, and love - a solid foundation for a meaningful, grounded life in any faith tradition. 


Thanks to Plymouth for hosting; thanks to all who came and worshiped together; thanks to my colleagues for their tireless efforts to create bridges, meaningful connections and relationships among the various faith communities in the Twin Cities. I'm honored to be a part of this group, and can't wait until the service next year. 


====


During the service I shared a poem/meditation, by the Rev. Max Coots, a deceased Unitarian Universalist minister. Many of you have requested a copy of this poem, "A Prayer of Thanksgiving." Here it is:




Let us give thanks...

For generous friends...with hearts as big as hubbards
and smiles as bright as their blossoms;

For feisty friends as tart as apples;

For continuous friends, who, like scallions and cucumbers, keep reminding us we had them;

For crotchety friends, as sour as rhubarb and as indestructible;

For handsome friends, who are as gorgeous as eggplants and as elegant as a row of corn -- and the others -- as plain as potatoes, and so good for you.

For funny friends, who are as silly as brussels sprouts and as amusing as Jerusalem artichokes, and serious friends as complex as cauliflowers and as intricate as onions;

For friends as unpretentious as cabbages, as subtle as summer squash, as persistent as parsley, as delightful as dill, as endless as zucchini, and who -- like parsnips -- can be counted on to see you through the long winter;

For old friends, nodding like sunflowers in the evening-time, and young friends coming on as fast as radishes;

For loving friends, who wind around as like tendrils, and hold us despite our blights, wilts, and witherings;

And finally, for those friends now gone, like gardens past, that have been harvested - but who fed us in their times that we might have life thereafter;

For all these we give thanks. 

Amen. 




    

Mapping a Life: Greed or Gratitude? PART 2

It’s easy to say, "gratitude matters." but without a regular practice of gratitude, I believe we’ll drift back toward greed. So, in that spirit, I offer two practices of gratitude, that I use in my own life:

1) Keep a daily gratitude journal. Maybe this might sounds ridiculous, but try it. Each day, in your journal, or Word document, or wherever, lift up three things out of the landscape of your life that you are thankful for. Three things – people, experiences, music, food.

Here’s how this works in my life: I regularly journal and pray early in the morning. I begin with this line from e.e. cummings: “I think you god for the most this amazing day…” And then I prayerfully list what I am thankful for:

“I thank you god for my family.

For the people I serve.

For bringing me to this moment, despite hardship and heartbreak.  

This practice changes me. And I’ll tell you, giving thanks doesn’t deny the hard moments, the loss, the grief, the despair we feel. Gratitude does not mean we ignore those things.

In fact, the Reverend Peter Gomes, former minister of Harvard’s Memorial Chapel, during a Thanksgiving Sermon, encouraged his congregation to,

 "think of your worst moments, your sorrows, your losses, your sadness and then remember that you are here, able to remember them...you got through the worst day of your life...you got through the trauma, the trial, you survived the bad relationship, you're making your way out of the darkness...remember these things...then look to see where you are."

And if you are in a dark, troubled place right now, know – beyond your rational mind - that you won’t remain there forever.  

               

The first practice is to keep a gratitude journal. If you’re not into journaling, write some thank you notes on a regular basis. Surely there are people in your life who deserve your thanks.

2) Make it a practice to tell a spouse, partner or friend something you appreciate about them every day. Author Arlie Hochschild writes, "When couples struggle, it is seldom over who does what. Far more often, it is over the giving and receiving of gratitude.  The struggle in the contemporary context is the struggle to cultivate gratitude between any two committed partners."

Dr. John Gottman, a national known relationship counselor, says that he can predict, often after only three minutes of observation, which marriages/partnerships are likely to flourish and which are likely to flounder.

The basic formula is that for every negative expression (a complaint, or a put-down, or getting angry with one another) there needs to be about five positive ones (smiles, compliments, laughter, expressions of appreciation and gratitude). 5 to 1 is the ratio, he says.

So this practice is about opening your heart to your partner, and truly paying attention. What are the ways, large and small, that you appreciate your partner, or friends? Have you told them? Are you being stingy with your praise?

Gratitude won’t fix everything in a relationship – I’m not saying that – but it will change the landscape of your relationship.

Here’s the bottom line: “Practicing gratitude" is not one more thing to check off your to-do list. It's not an obligation or a burden to praise, to give thanks. Rather, it is an overflowing of Love, of the heart remembering and acknowledging the web of life we are in, that we had nothing to do with, yet sustains and nourishes us, nonetheless.        

Mapping a Life: Greed or Gratitude?

A few thoughts on greed...

Greed is almost impossible to see in ourselves, right?  No looks in the mirror, and says, “You Greedy Jerk..I see you there!”

It’s easy to look at Bernie Madoff, or the top Executives at Enron, or the Bankers and CEOs on Wallstreet, or any number of other people and businesses, and shake a finger and tsk-tsk disapprovingly, and say, “Those greedy people…in this greedy system.”

Greed is nearly impossible to see in ourselves, isn’t it? I mean, who among us would say, “Yup, I’m greedy! And it’s causing me problems!” Probably not to many of us.

And yet, I’m surprised by how often I find myself saying, almost unconsciously, “I deserve this; the world owes me; other people owe me; what I have is not quite enough, quite yet, I deserve just a little bit more…More attention, more money, more things...more.”  

Greed is an insidious, dangerous condition of the heart – and it’s about more than money.

Here’s what I mean: perhaps in our work lives, or relationships, or marriages, we just “feed” ourselves, slowly starving our partners or colleagues or children of the things they need. We hold tight, being stingy with praise, kindness, attention, love, even money. 

Maybe you’re thinking, “I don’t hold tight, that’s not me,” and that may be true, but remember that greed is almost impossible to see in ourselves.

And yet, from the bird’s eye view (God’s view, if you will), it is clear that collectively, greed is rampant.

As the poet, George Ella Lyon, says in her poem:

God is fed up
All the oceans she gave us
All the fields
All the acres of steep seedful forests
And we did what?
         Invented the Great Chain
            of Being and
            the chain saw
         Invented sin
God says,
I've had it…
 
I set you down
a miracle among miracles
You want more
It's your turn
You show me.

Show what? Show how?

We might start by showing some humility. We might remember that we didn’t make the world, this day, our lives, the soil, the trees, or the oceans. We didn’t make the birds, or the moon and stars.

When I worked at All Souls Unitarian Church in Tulsa, Oklahoma, we began each service with these modified words from the 118^th Psalm:

This is indeed a day which God has made.
Let us, then, rejoice and be glad in it.
And let us count our many blessings.
Let us be grateful for the capacity to see, feel, hear, and understand.
Let us be grateful for the incredible gift of life.
And, let us be especially grateful for the ties of love which bind us together, giving dignity, meaning, worth, and joy to all our days.

For a long time, that line, “This is indeed a day which God has made!” made me cranky and bothered me.  Sure, I loved the stuff about counting blessings and gratefulness, but I didn’t even really believe in God, or that “God” created the day.

But week after week we said those words together. Slowly, something in me changed. I began to understand that “God” was something that kept my ego in check and grounded me. I realized that no matter what I thought about “God,” the truth was that I definitely did not make the day. I did not make the earth. I did not make the coffee bean, or the oats, or the egg that nourished me.

Something greater than me, had done these things, and had allowed life and the new day to emerge. The day was a gift. My body, my breath - a gift. All that I had, a loan from Life itself.

And the truth, is that the God and the world don't owe us anything: not the high speed internet that works 24/7, or corner offices, or drivers who always signal properly, or a partner that can read our mind, or meet our every need, or anything else.

“I set you down

a miracle among miracles

You want more

It's your turn

You show me.”

Show what?

Gratitude. 

We owe the world and its abundant miracles - fiery sunsets, northern lights, laughing children, honey crisp apples, the fact that we’re here at all - our gratitude, our praise.

Instead of always reaching for something more, for feeling we never have enough, the Spirit Map invites us to try saying, "Thank you," and living with a bit more humility at the center of our lives. 

P.S. For more good thoughts on this topic, check out Heidi Mastrud's blog, "Not Hell, But Hope."

The Best Gift Ever?

Last Sunday in church, I suggested that the “Give” part of First Universalist’s Mission Statement invites us to develop a practice of big, generous, radical giving. It invites us to give the gift of deep attention to ourselves (not ego attention, but deep attention, i.e. really checking in with our spirits), to others, to the planet, and to the Holy. I suggested that this kind of "giving of attention" opens the door to all other kinds of giving. You might think of it as the gateway gift. When we really pay attention, it becomes clear about what to do and give next. 

(If you’re interested, you can listen to the sermon, here. And a congregant shared some fascinating thoughts, here.)

I also said that this kind of giving is so important that we need to practice it in some concrete ways:

One way is to give someone a one hour “time coupon.” (On Sunday, the orders of service actually had “time coupons” in them that said, “Give this time coupon to a recipient who will get one hour of your undivided attention on a project or activity of their choosing.”) You decide who gets this – a child, friend, or partner....Whoever it is will get 60 minutes of your undivided attention.

It might seem like a simple, silly gift, but it’s pure gold.

Life size brontosaurus!

For example, our own son loves dinosaurs and cars. I could give him dinosaurs and cars every time I see him; he’d like it! But what he really likes is when I play with him; when I pay attention to him, when I give him my full self. That’s more valuable than a life-sized brontosaurus.

This attention feeds his spirit. (It’s true that I can’t give that kind of attention all the time, but when I do, it matters.)

Second, give a gift a day for seven days. It could be a material gift, but it certainly doesn’t have to be. It could be a helping hand, a hand written letter, a phone call, a home cooked meal, a singing telegram, a walk with someone.

For this exercise, focus on what you have to give and not on what your limitations are. As a colleague of mine says, “When we take the time to pay attention to what we have to give, and we all have so much to give, our hearts begin to overflow with generosity.” It could be standing in solidarity with someone, holding the door open, taking the time to tell a dear friend how much they mean to you. 

So try it. See what happens. You have so much to give. 

  

And giving makes Love come alive in the world. As the poet Hafiz says,

Even after all this time
the sun never says to the earth, "You owe Me."
Look what happens with a love like that,
It lights up the Whole Sky.

At the end of the day, it’s not what we hold on to that matters -  it’s what we give away - the love, attention, and compassion we give to one another and this world. 

If you were at the service, I'd love to hear your thoughts and reflections...how did you experience this service? 

Monday Musings...

Hello and welcome newest readers! So glad you've stopped by. If you're so inclined, please leave a comment on anything that moves you or stirs your spirit. No pressure, of course, but it deepens the experience for all of us. 


Yesterday I preached a sermon called "Removing the Roof," a part of which I had posted as a draft earlier in the week (you can listen to the podcast of that sermon here.) I was experimenting with a different way to construct a sermon. I invited people to reflect on the draft piece I posted, and a bunch of you did. 


I appreciated all the comments; it deepened my thinking about the issues of commitment, boldness, and courage. And I can't stop thinking about this particular comment from Jessi Wicks: 

As so often happens, reflecting on the story (of a paralyzed man being lowered through a roof into a home where Jesus was), was I the healer, being sought out by those in need? I'm more inclined to believe I was the cripple being lowered through the gaping hole in the roof. My church community opened that hole in the roof, lowered me down so I could be healed.  

I love this. I love the reality that a community of faith can hold, heal, and bless us in ways we can't even anticipate or imagine. Often, our job is simply to show up, be authentic, and open-hearted. When a faith community is alive with "gratitude, compassion, hospitality, forgiveness, and hope" (see postscript), and we're invited to truly live and embody those values, look out - the roof might come off, we might get healed, we might help heal. 

If you're interested, the book I quoted from on Sunday in "Tattoos on the Heart," by Greg Boyle. It's a powerful, moving read. I highly recommend it. 

I'll be experimenting with this sermon writing process again in the future. Thanks to all who commented! 


PS: Phil Lund, Prairie Star District's Director of Faith Formation and Congregational Growth, recently gave a presentation to our staff and Board and shared the core values of "Gratitude, compassion, hospitality, forgiveness, and hope" as antidotes to the the driving forces of the consumer culture which are: "Greed, ego gratification, the need to be exclusive, guilt, and fear." I'll definitely be blogging more on this soon, but in the meantime, here's a piece that Phil pointed us to. 


The church is in the world to lift up a different set of values, yes?!

Family Ritual for Mealtime (Singing toward Gratitude)

This morning we had oatmeal and berries for breakfast, my wife and son and I. Before digging into our food, we held hands and sang the "Johnny Appleseed Song." Actually, it's a slight variation on that song. Our version goes, 

Oh, the earth is good to me, and so I thank the earth, for giving me the things I need, the sun, the rain, and the appleseed, the earth is good to me. Amen -- amen -- amen, amen, amen, AHHHHmen.

 (I've shard the longer, Disney version, below. It's not as robust or off-key as our version!)

Sometimes we sing the original version, belting out, "Oh the Lord is good to me," but mostly we stick with the earth. Our son knows the song by heart and when we sing it slow enough, he can sing along with us, or we'll pause after saying, "The earth is good to...." and he'll sing, "meee."


We love holding hands and seeing each other around the table and singing together. And it's a tradition that has been passed down from generation to generation in my family. (A really tender and sweet moment came last year on a family trip when our son was surrounded by parents, grandparents and great grandparents (and uncles and aunts!) and we all sang this song together. Part of the tenderness is that my grandfather is suffering from memory loss, but he knew all the words to this song, and sang with a smile and tears on his face. We all got a bit teared up, too.)


Anyway, our tradition is that after we sing, we ask, "What are you thankful for?" and then take turns saying what we're thankful for. Our son often starts, saying something like "I'm thankful for my mom and dad, and food, and books," and then he digs into his food. Sometimes he's more random in his gratitude list, and he has said some wicked funny things, too. (Like being really thankful for his "sister!" (Which he doesn't have - he's an only child!))


And then my wife and I then express our gratitude for people, food, Life/the Holy/God, family time, the gifts and blessings of the day, whatever it might be. 


It's a ritual that only takes a minute, but it changes the shape of the day and the meal, as we sing together, hold hands, and name the things we're thankful for. It is a precious moment I love and look forward to. And it's a daily reminder of how incredibly amazing and miraculous this planet is - how our very lives depend upon the dirt/the earth underneath our feet.   


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Reflection Question: What are the rituals you do on a regular basis, with your family or otherwise? What practices and rituals help shape and ground your day?
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P.S.: A quick shout and hello to some of the new folks who have been stopping by this blog! I suspect you visited us at the Lake Harriet Service on Sunday (here's a copy of the homily I shared, if you're interested) and were online afterwards wanting to learn more about First Universalist and Unitarian Universalism. Welcome! 

"It Helps Now and Then..." - In the midst of a crazy world, a moment for gratitude

I know it might seem weird to be writing about gratitude on a day when the world is reeling from the news out of Norway (more on evil in another post), when Congress can't seem to find a way to raise the debt ceiling and address the budget (or find a civil way to work and compromise together so our children and grandchildren have a future worth living into), and when some are calling the heat index and climate change a left wing conspiracy. 


Climate change, the debt ceiling, and the terrible, horrible, tragic violence wrought by an extremist in Oslo are all on my mind. (And my prayers are certainly with the families and friends of all those who were injured or lost their lives in this attack.) 


But gratitude is also on my mind. 


Here's the story: It looks like we'll be moving to Minneapolis soon, to rent a home much closer to First Universalist. We're thrilled. At the same time,  we're sad about leaving Frogtown, our St. Paul neighborhood. Right now, we're in the process of packing, as it's all on a pretty fast timeline. And you probably know the moving drill: Almost every item that gets touched get this treatment, "Keep it? Toss it? Or give it away?" Mostly, it's pretty straight forward, but there are some items that haven't been touched in years, and when they are, stories, memories, and deep feelings all come flooding back. And often, lots of gratitude. Heap-loads of gratitude. 

Not the exact journal, but close!
(image from http://www.eastgate.com/catalog/ItalianJournal.jpg)

I was packing up my home office, when I came upon a gift from my Ordination and Installation service, nearly two years ago in October, 2009. It was a beautiful journal from a dear friend and colleague. I had (somehow!) completely forgotten about this gift. "On the occasion of your ordination - Oct 25, 2009," the inscription read. 


Holding this gift brought back a flood of memories from that day, as First Universalist and I began our shared ministry journey together, as we were collectively called by something greater than ourselves to serve something greater than ourselves. I turned the page in the journal to discover these words, credited to archbishop Oscar Romero, but actually written by by Ken Untener for John Cardinal Dearden in November of 1979: 

"It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying
that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation
in realizing that. This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well. It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.

Amen." 

We cannot do everything, and we will never see the end results of what we start, but we must do something...despite the heart break and fear and extremism in the world, we must be the yeast that helps bring a new creation/world into being.  


Today, in the midst of everything, this is what I needed to hear and be reminded of. Thank you, dear friend. 

What "The Well" is all about...

First and foremost - "The Well" is about gratitude. 
It's about creating a space to name and notice the people, ideas, books, and nourishing sources that feed and inspire my life and ministry.  Currently, I'm feeling inspired, fed, and grateful for Phil Lund, the outstanding Sunday worship at General Assembly this year, by my family, and so much more. I'm also going to begin posting regularly on Twitter - to lift up things/people/sources that I noticed and felt thankful for during the day. Noticing - and giving thanks - really does impact my spiritual life. 


Second, "The Well" is an experiment in digital ministry. I've had a Facebook page for a while, have just started using Twitter more frequently, and now, with the launch of this blog, plan to post regularly during the upcoming year. I hope to bring my ministry into the virtual world in a more meaningful way.  People like revnaomi and Meg Riley  (Senior Minister of Church of the Larger Fellowship) are just a tiny sampling of digital ministry people and spaces that intrigue, challenge, and inspire me. (BTW: Church of the Larger Fellowship recently came out with a mobile phone app. You can learn more here.) 


Third, "The Well" will be a place to explore the intersection of Unitarian Universalist faith, fatherhood, family, church life, large church ministry, technology, UU evangelism, and joy. I'll share ideas for sermons that are percolating, thoughts about church health and growth, social justice issues that are important to me, and share how my faith - and spiritual practices - are shaping my life.


PS - "The Well" is also the title of our current summer worship series at First Universalist, running through Sept 11, 2011. If you're in the area, stop by on Sundays at 10am or check us out on podcast.