Connections

So, is it really "in there" or am I simply reading it that way because that's how I've been thinking lately?

I think that's a perennial question preachers have to ask themselves as they approach the readings each week and try to prepare a sermon. The weekly conversation between Scripture and preacher and congregation and God has to include the preacher, but it can't be about the preacher. So I worried a little this last week when all three lessons seemed to be about where I was at - and seemed to reassure me as I struggled with fears about my sabbatical (fears such as: what kind of a crazy idea have I gotten myself into anyway???)

I had been seeing my sabbatical time as a time of reconnection for me. A time to pay close attention to the connections that are vital for myself, and for my ministry. It is so easy to get caught up in the tyranny of the urgent, in the midst of a job that is never "done". And over the years, I have tended to let slip important time for connection - with God, with myself, with my family and friends, and with the wider community.

So I heard, in the Gospel of John, Jesus' assurance to his disciples of a connection with God. Created, not out of their own doing, but out of God's gift. "I am in my father, and I in you, and you in me." A connection created through the gift of the Spirit. Not being left orphaned (unconnected!) when Jesus wasn't there anymore, but instead being brought into the midst of the very mystery of the relationality of God's being. And a call to live fully into that connection. To live in love, responding in love, loving the world - which looks like following the Way of Jesus. Connection with God.

And I heard, in the 1 letter of Peter, the call to be connected to the hope within myself. A hope placed there, no matter the circumstances of the world around me, by my connection with God. A hope that should be spoken of.

And then in Acts, I was pleasantly surprised to be hit with the realization that Paul did a 'walkabout' in Athens. (Another 'Richard of Chichester' moment.) He got connected with that community. Listening to the seeking of their hearts. The questions of their souls. Being willing to engage them using their language and their patterns of thought.

So I preached about the richness of the layers of connections that God calls us to. And the gift that those connections are to be for the world around us (after all, being followers of the Way of Jesus is never about what's in it for us!).

And I am once again feeling deeply blessed to have the opportunity to focus on those connections. To spend June on my own community walkabout - getting reconnected with community in ways that I don't spend much time doing while immersed in the life of a particular congregation. To spend July focused on listening to family and friends, and to reconnect with that part of my own personal community. And then to spend that time alone in August, trying to listen to God help me put it all together in new layers of rich connection that I can bring back to my ministry in September.

Godspell comes for a Visit

I was actually not as disappointed as I thought I would be when my sabbatical grant application wasn't approved. Yes, I did think it would be wonderful to follow Augustine's trip from Rome to Canterbury, and to explore the other side of the history of the Church of England by spending substantial time at Iona as well (as well as tracing some of my own family history by spending some time in the Buchanan lands in the highlands of Scotland). But, my actual biggest disappointment was not getting the part of the grant that would have funded some wonderful things for my parish while I was gone.

So I didn't get the grant (I know more people who didn't get this particular grant, than I know people who actually got the grant, so I really went into it without any grand expectations). I wasn't surprised that I didn't. What did surprise me was realizing that, even without such expectations, I didn't have a back-up plan.

Instead, I had to spend time simply trying to listen to God. Money was now an issue, both for myself and for my parish.

And God said, "Since when was money ever really a part of any of my plans?"

So I waited, and I listened.

And that's when God started talking to me about this walk from town to town in New Hampshire (see my first blog entry). (And I'll blog sometime soon about "God talks to me" - hopefully before anyone truly begins to wonder about my sanity.)

So, I became convinced that somehow, someway, I was going to do some kind of a walk through New Hampshire (oh, how I wish God was sometimes a little more concrete about what plans might look like!)

But I still struggled with what it was all about. I knew in some ways it had to do with my deep desire for the church to move back away from institution to community. It had to do with what the 'emerging church' movement was yearning for. And was also answering! But I needed more details. I wanted to know what I was supposed to be 'doing'.

So, when I was woken up at 3 am about a month ago, I figured it was one of those 'God talk' times again. But I found it wasn't that still small voice of God-promptings that I had come to expect in the wee hours of the morning.

Instead, the entire cast of Godspell seemed to be right there in my bedroom. And they were singing: "Day by Day, day by day . . . oh, dear Lord, three things I pray." I couldn't ignore it, shut it out, or find any way of silencing the singing. They just kept going. Including all those wonderfully annoying background echo pieces ("Day by Day" and the echo rings out "Day by Day" as the tones move up the scale).

My husband snored contentedly next to me.

It wasn't fair. I couldn't get them to stop singing (nothing like a lot of full-part ear worm going on at 3 am). They sang for 2 1/2 hours, without any other 'word from God.' Just all those voices . . . singing and singing and singing. Finally, I fell asleep again for a little bit.

I awoke . . . the song still ringing in my ears (did the Godspell cast ever get tired of singing that repetitive piece?? Maybe THEY need the sabbatical?)

But the result was unavoidable: I had found my sabbatical prayer! Three things: See thee more clearly. Love thee more dearly. Follow thee more nearly. Day by day.

So I lived with that prayer for about a month. And then there was the special parish meeting. A couple of items on the agenda. We needed to approve new parish bylaws (ended up being much more enjoyable of a task than I had anticipated), and I wanted to talk with them about my sabbatical plans. A few hours before that meeting, I decided to do a little research into my sabbatical prayer.

I knew it was much older than Godspell. And I thought it was even in our Hymnal. So I looked it up there, and found the words attributed to Richard of Chichester. I googled him.

Early 1200's. Chosen and consecrated as a bishop, but locked out of the bishop's residency (keeping the bishop out meant the King of England still got all the proceeds that would normally have gone to support the bishop). So, instead of living in his 'ivory tower' . . . he walked his diocese! The prayer God had laid on my heart as my prayer as I walked my diocese, was the prayer of someone who walked his diocese 800 years ago. I was stunned . . . and overcome with a sense of awe that I still don't know how to talk about. This is so much NOT about me anymore.

I had to have one last little comment to God on this one, though. It is reported that Richard of Chichester walked his diocese BAREFOOT for two years. Even though I only plan on walking mine for a month . . . I refused to even consider that barefoot bit. (In fact, I just bought myself a pair of great Keen walking sandals).

On the need for a Sabbatical

'Sabbatical' comes from the same root as Sabbath. A sabbatical is about time set aside - time for resting, renewing, and being re-formed or re-created.

I feel blessed to be able to take a sabbatical. Most people never get one. And I think probably most would really benefit from one . . . in many of the same ways that I hope to benefit from mine.

But sabbaticals seem to be standard only in the worlds of academics and religious vocations. It should show up in everyone's life, somewhere, somehow. But it usually doesn't. And that's why I feel so blessed . . . and maybe a little guilty? Why should I be one of the few? But I've heard it explained that it is normal for clergy to get sabbaticals because of the 'always on' nature of our lives. And in some ways, that rings true for me. So I'm going to take my sabbatical, try not to feel guilty, and hope that I can bring something back with me that is beneficial for all.

What has surprised me was realizing how much I NEED a sabbatical! I have been doing this 'priest' stuff now for 14 years. I'm beginning to know what 'being burnt out' means. Not in serious ways, but in ways that dampen my enthusiasm (even in its root meaning from en-theos, or being 'in God'). Part of me blames it on 'getting older', but I also realize that there is more than that going on. I sometimes lose contact with that part of me that knows, in deep, very real ways, the joy of being God's beloved. I'm just too tired sometimes to care. Not a good place to be! How can I help others discover that joy, if I can't connect with it myself? I need to be renewed.

I have had too much of institution. Somewhere in the past 12 months I even became panicked at the thought of spending the rest of my life in this church institution business. And then I began to realize that it was mostly of my own making - my allowing the running of the institution to slowly become what my life as a priest was about. I had begun to get it backwards - - God has called us to be community, to follow The Way. And instead we become an institution. And my life as a priest becomes about the institution. Wow - does that ever need to be re-formed!

I still love that institution, because of what it could be - - but it, and I, need to once again get things back into the right connections. I don't know how it will look. I don't know what it will mean for the way I live as priest, and the way my parish lives as community. But if we are about being a community that is The Body of Christ - a community that is an incarnate expression of God's love and care for the whole world around us . . . then I believe we all need to be re-created.

So, I'm going on sabbatical - - to give God space to renew, re-form, and re-create me. And hopefully, my parish will also give God space and attention to be renewed, re-formed, and re-created as well.

Who knows what God could do, if we all just gave God a little space, a little time, a little attention.

Take a Walk

And God said, "Take a walk!"

I had been wanting to hear that for a long time. So I asked God, "Can it be a long walk?"

God answered, "Of course."

So, of course, I assumed God meant the Long Trail. It's a long walk, the length of Vermont, and one I've wanted to do for quite some time. So I put that backpacking trip into my sabbatical plans, and added some other fun, educational kind of stuff . . . and sent the plans off to be considered for a grant to help fund all that other fun, educational kind of stuff.

I didn't get the grant.

And God said, "Take a walk anyway!"
And I said, "Can it be a long walk?"
And God replied, "Of course. In fact, take two long walks."

Now, this puzzled me quite a bit. Spending one month walking 272 miles seemed like a long enough walk to me. But God wasn't going to let me off with just that.

And God explained, "You want to walk Vermont? Sure . . . go right ahead. But first, walk New Hampshire."

And I knew, almost immediately, that this walk wasn't about trails and trees and mountaintops and my own physical challenges. This walk would be about faith, and communities, and people. It would be about getting outside of the walls of institution, and listening to both the faith, and the hunger for faith, of those who won't or can't come through the doors of our churches.

And God then assured me that there would be plenty for us to talk to each other about when I took to the Long Trail. I suspect I'll need every one of those long miles to listen.