Lent is a time to slow down and work on our relationship with God and each other. We’ll have some opportunities for working on our relationship with God. The labyrinth will return during the first week of March. It will be available in the Fellowship Hall from Tuesday morning through Thursday night. I will return it to the New Hampshire Conference office on Friday. There will be evening hours until 8 PM all three nights. As we did last year there will be a basket of stones available. You will be invited to select a stone which you can carry with you as you walk the labyrinth, and leave the stone in the center. A number of people came several times. There’s no limit as to how many times you can walk it.
The other opportunity for reflection will be offered in the Chapel. Each Sunday morning I will have a new icon of the week which will stay in the Chapel for the week. Any time the church is open and there isn’t another activity in the Chapel you will be welcome to come and practice contemplative prayer using the icon. During Holy Week I will have several different icons during the week depending on the specific day. This will go through the second Sunday of Easter, April 12.
Contemplative prayer is the practice of simply sitting with a thought, a word or an image and reflecting on it as you look at it. This may sound simplistic, but as you focus on the image you will find that other thoughts and worries will recede to the background. If you have been to a Harmonic Healing event it can be the same sort of feeling, a feeling of release from your worries and challenges.
I realize that icons are not a traditional part of the Protestant tradition. I offer this as an alternative way to work on your relationship with God. Orthodox and Roman Catholic traditions have preserved and nurtured the use of images in prayer. The instinctive Protestant reaction is that images can easily become idols, which is true. That doesn’t mean that idolatry is inevitable with the use of images in prayer. If you focus on the deeper meaning that an image conveys rather than the image itself you will find yourself transported beyond the image to the reality it represents. That is why an icon is often referred to as a window.
I have found that painting icons is a wonderful vehicle for contemplative prayer. I reflect on the subject as I paint and I find that I am able to push away all the concerns and worries that try to crowd in. The icons that I will have in the chapel this Lent are all copies that I have painted.
At first I had to overcome the hurdle of idolatry before I was able to appreciate iconography for what it is, a vehicle for prayer. I have always known what icons are, but I didn't have a clue as to how they could enhance my prayer life. The faith that I grew up in was intellectually oriented. Prayer was seen as a practice of the mind. I have found richness in the invitation to prayer through the contemplation of images. Many Protestants have experienced this invitation and taken up the use of icons in prayer as the older boundaries between Protestantism and other branches of Christianity have eroded. There is much more appreciation for the traditions of other branches of the Christian church than there has ever been.
Each week I will post the icon that will be available in the chapel.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Monday, February 9, 2015
Being Thankful for Teachers
I am often reminded of the gifts I have been given--gifts both large and small. Today I think in particular of two of my seminary professors. One of them, Bill Holladay, taught Old Testament. He is still active at the age of about 90, although he has retired from teaching. I am reminded of him whenever a text from the Book of Jeremiah appears in the Revised Common Lectionary. Jeremiah was his specialty.
While I was in seminary (1980-86) Prof. Holladay was writing what is now considered the definitive commentary on the Book of Jeremiah. It was at a time when home computers were in their early stage of development. Laptops didn’t exist at that time. I don’t remember what he had for a computer, but I remember him telling our Old Testament class how his son had developed a word processing program that allowed him to type in Hebrew. That may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but Hebrew is written right to left, and computers compose left to right. I believe the message of hope in Jeremiah was what attracted him to this particular book in the first place. Writing a commentary on a book of the Bible can take decades, and I know he worked on it for many years. I have a set of the two volume work, and I use them whenever I preach on a text from Jeremiah.
I also have thought lately of another seminary professor, George Peck. A native of Australia, he was the dean and later the president at Andover Newton, and taught theology. He was a missionary in India for many years. He was a proponent of the theology of Karl Barth, a German theologian who dared to stand up to the Nazi regime in the years previous to World War II. Barth eventually moved to Switzerland to escape the Nazi government, and spent the rest of his life there. During his career he wrote a multi-volume work entitled “Church Dogmatics.” I have recently completed my collection of all fourteen volumes, and have started reading. It will probably take a few years but it will be worth it. It’s like being in school again.
George died very suddenly only a few years after I graduated from seminary. He was only 60 years old as I recall. For years my daughter has remembered his fondness for small children, since he didn’t have grandchildren of his own. I remember more than once seeing him carrying around a small child of one of the students at the Christmas party that he and his wife always held in the President’s house.
I often think of the debt I owe to many people who were my teachers. We all have had important teachers in our lives, whether they were teachers in public school, Sunday School, sports coaches, family members or neighbors. It is a good thing to express gratitude for our teachers. I can’t contact George because he is no longer with us, but I have gotten Bill’s address from Andover Newton and plan to write him a note of thanks. He taught many students over the years, and I doubt he will remember me, but I am sure he will appreciate my taking the time to thank him for his work that still has value and that lives on in his writings.
While I was in seminary (1980-86) Prof. Holladay was writing what is now considered the definitive commentary on the Book of Jeremiah. It was at a time when home computers were in their early stage of development. Laptops didn’t exist at that time. I don’t remember what he had for a computer, but I remember him telling our Old Testament class how his son had developed a word processing program that allowed him to type in Hebrew. That may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but Hebrew is written right to left, and computers compose left to right. I believe the message of hope in Jeremiah was what attracted him to this particular book in the first place. Writing a commentary on a book of the Bible can take decades, and I know he worked on it for many years. I have a set of the two volume work, and I use them whenever I preach on a text from Jeremiah.
I also have thought lately of another seminary professor, George Peck. A native of Australia, he was the dean and later the president at Andover Newton, and taught theology. He was a missionary in India for many years. He was a proponent of the theology of Karl Barth, a German theologian who dared to stand up to the Nazi regime in the years previous to World War II. Barth eventually moved to Switzerland to escape the Nazi government, and spent the rest of his life there. During his career he wrote a multi-volume work entitled “Church Dogmatics.” I have recently completed my collection of all fourteen volumes, and have started reading. It will probably take a few years but it will be worth it. It’s like being in school again.
George died very suddenly only a few years after I graduated from seminary. He was only 60 years old as I recall. For years my daughter has remembered his fondness for small children, since he didn’t have grandchildren of his own. I remember more than once seeing him carrying around a small child of one of the students at the Christmas party that he and his wife always held in the President’s house.
I often think of the debt I owe to many people who were my teachers. We all have had important teachers in our lives, whether they were teachers in public school, Sunday School, sports coaches, family members or neighbors. It is a good thing to express gratitude for our teachers. I can’t contact George because he is no longer with us, but I have gotten Bill’s address from Andover Newton and plan to write him a note of thanks. He taught many students over the years, and I doubt he will remember me, but I am sure he will appreciate my taking the time to thank him for his work that still has value and that lives on in his writings.
Tibetan Singing Bowls: A Way to Contemplation
I discovered right away that singing bowls will produce a relaxing sound that can aid meditation. After a good deal of research I found that not much is know about their use in Tibet. Unfortunately, the Chinese occupation of Tibet has resulted in a cultural genocide. Most Tibetans have fled to India, Bhutan, or Nepal, including the Dalai Lama. Recovering the original use of these bowls may never happen, but certainly it is related to the sound they produce.
Since I started using singing bowls I have been offering what I call "Harmonic Healing" sessions once a month. South Church is blessed with a fellowship hall that has wonderful acoustics which make for an ideal room for this. I've developed a following in the area. When we lived in New York I offered these sessions at an addiction treatment center once a month. The residents were usually receptive and got a lot out of my time with them.
A singing bowl is made of bronze and is a upside-down bell. They range in size from just a few inches in diameter to twenty inches or more. My largest bowl is a modern bowl that is just under eighteen inches in diameter and has a deep, rumbling sound when played. To play a singing bowl I use a wooden mallet to tap it, or a wooden stick to rub around the outside. Once I am playing a bowl it will vibrate at a specific pitch, often producing more than one tone at once. When I play them in groups I am able to create a tapestry of different tones that will ease the listener into a state of relaxed contemplation that can have a profound effect. Recently a woman who had been struggling with thoughts of suicide came to one of my sessions and went away with her head clear and feeling as though she had gotten a new perspective on life.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
John the Baptist: A Guide in the Wilderness
Over my desk I have several icons. I switch some of them out a couple of times a year, but one that always stays in the same place is a copy I painted of an icon of John the Baptist, the original of which dates from around 1300 AD and is in the British Museum. It is small, less than a foot high, but the image is intense. John looks straight at the viewer. With his hair disheveled he wears a reddish-orange tunic and a greenish-blue cloak. His left hand holds a scroll while his right hand is raised in blessing.John the Baptist is portrayed in Eastern iconography as being emaciated and wearing ragged clothing, reflecting the description of him in the gospels. John is portrayed with wild hair--quite a contrast to Jesus, who is always portrayed with every hair in place. Depending on the inclination of the artist, John's rumpled clothing can be quite striking. One icon shows John wearing an outer garment that can only be described as a blue tablecloth that has unraveled quite a bit at the edges.
I have painted a number of icons of John, the originals dating from 600 to 1500 AD. He is one of my favorite characters in the New Testament. I find it unfortunate that in the church year John is relegated to the beginning of Lent and Advent. We don't see him during the rest of the year. He appears sporadically in the gospels--in Mark and John he is at the very beginning, preparing the way for Jesus. In Matthew he appears after the Christmas story, and in Luke his birth precedes the birth of Jesus. With all the differences among the four gospels John appears at the beginning of Jesus' ministry to baptize him, although the gospels vary on the details. John appears again when he condemns King Herod for marrying his brother's wife, and Herod imprisons him. As we all know, John meets his end when Salome asks Herod for the head of John the Baptist in return for an exotic dance.
Jesus had a strong connection to John. It is quite possible that Jesus was a disciple of John before he went out on his own. Several times in the gospels Jesus compares John to the prophet Elijah, a comparison the gospel writers take into account when describing John's appearance.
In Orthodox Christianity John is called the "Forerunner" instead of "the Baptist" because he comes before Jesus and prepares for his coming. In an Orthodox deesis, or row of icons of Jesus and apostles and saints, John occupies the spot to Jesus' left, while Mary is on the right. They are closest to Jesus because they were the first to recognize him for who he was.
John's icon in my office, and the other icons of him I have painted, remind me of God's presence in the wilderness, whatever the wilderness may be. John is a good guide for the wilderness-- he knew it well. I'd recommend John as a companion in the wilderness. He wasn't much to look at, but he knew his way around the neighborhood.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is one of our best-known poets. He composed poems that have become a part of national consciousness such as “The Courtship of Miles Standish,” “Paul Revere’s Ride,” and “The Song of Hiawatha,” and many others. He had a reputation as a kind, calm, gentle person, yet many who met him did not realize the tragedy that filled much of his life.Longfellow was born in Maine but moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts as a young man. He joined the faculty of Harvard University where he taught until 1854. By that point he was earning enough income from his published writings that he no longer needed the income from Harvard.
Longfellow’s first wife, Mary, died in 1835 from complications after a miscarriage after only four years of marriage. He did not marry again until a number of years later. His second wife, Frances, died in 1861 after her dress caught fire in their home. Wadsworth attempted to put out the fire and his face was badly burned. This prompted him to grow a beard to hide the scars. Anyone familiar with Longfellow will immediately think of his bushy white beard and hair. His health also caused him physical pain. He suffered from neuralgia, which caused constant pain.
A quote attributed to Longfellow, although I cannot find the source is this: “If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.” He certainly had more than his share of tragedy, and his secret history was full of pain. After his second wife’s death he became more reclusive and suffered from depression which colored the rest of his life until his death in 1882. He occasionally resorted to laudanum and ether to get through.
This isn’t meant to be a literary article, however. The point is that each person has experienced pain in his or her life, and each of us carries the scars with us each day. Nobody likes to reveal all of that, however, and it sometimes is easy to assume that they do not carry any emotional burdens because a person is not verbal about them.
It’s important to take this into account when encountering others. Each one of us knows what we ourselves live with, but we don’t always see the “secret history” that the other person carries around. If we could read those secret histories we might be more sympathetic of the other person’s burdens.
There is more to every one of us that what meets the eye. Remembering this will enrich our lives together tremendously.
The Simple Ways of Ministry
A famous quote attributed to the film director Woody Allen is “Ninety percent of success is just showing up,” or some variation on that. After spending a couple of minutes poking around online I found that the quote actually is "Showing up is eighty percent of life." What he meant by that, he said in a later interview, was that actually doing something rather than simply dreaming about it was what was important in life.
I thought of this recently at a local nursing home service. At this particular nursing home I don’t usually have a large group, perhaps seven or eight at best. This particular day two women were there. They are usually at the service. Both of them seem to be dementia patients, and appear to have been active in a church in their younger years. One was Roman Catholic, the other (I believe) Episcopalian. We sat around a table, just the three of us, and we sang a familiar hymn, “In the Garden.” That seems to be a nursing home favorite. I believe I have all three verses memorized. I said a prayer, read a scripture passage and then shared communion with them before saying another prayer and singing another familiar hymn, “Blessed Assurance.” It’s a good thing I can sing reasonably well, because at these services I’m sometimes the only person singing. That wasn’t the case this particular day, however. At some services some of the residents seem completely non-responsive. When we sign a familiar hymn, I will often see a couple of people mouthing the words to the hymn. Music has a very strange way of reaching a person who for any number of reasons is not able to communicate with others.
This brief devotional service wasn’t terribly profound, but it meant a great deal to these two women. It reminded me that ministry doesn’t always have to be complicated. Sometimes, simply taking the time to be there is what matters the most. Showing up.
These services are the most ecumenical activity I engage in during the week. At every service I do there is a diversity of denominations represented—Roman Catholic, Methodist, Baptist, UCC, and others. Rarely does anyone decline taking communion because I am not a priest or pastor in their denomination. They understand the common nature of faith. For my part, I have gained a broader perspective. At one of these services someone always addresses me as “Father.” Years ago I resisted it,out of fear that people might think I was pretending to be something I’m not. I’ve come to see being called “Father” as a title of respect, and of trust. When someone calls me “Father” I feel as though they are saying that they trust me.
It took me a long time to learn that ministry can take place in very simple ways. Jesus defines it in recognizing that where two or three are gathered, there he is also. (Matthew 18:20) What we do to minister to others in Christ’s name doesn’t have to be elaborate or expensive. Just showing up is a very good start, and it may be enough.
I thought of this recently at a local nursing home service. At this particular nursing home I don’t usually have a large group, perhaps seven or eight at best. This particular day two women were there. They are usually at the service. Both of them seem to be dementia patients, and appear to have been active in a church in their younger years. One was Roman Catholic, the other (I believe) Episcopalian. We sat around a table, just the three of us, and we sang a familiar hymn, “In the Garden.” That seems to be a nursing home favorite. I believe I have all three verses memorized. I said a prayer, read a scripture passage and then shared communion with them before saying another prayer and singing another familiar hymn, “Blessed Assurance.” It’s a good thing I can sing reasonably well, because at these services I’m sometimes the only person singing. That wasn’t the case this particular day, however. At some services some of the residents seem completely non-responsive. When we sign a familiar hymn, I will often see a couple of people mouthing the words to the hymn. Music has a very strange way of reaching a person who for any number of reasons is not able to communicate with others.
This brief devotional service wasn’t terribly profound, but it meant a great deal to these two women. It reminded me that ministry doesn’t always have to be complicated. Sometimes, simply taking the time to be there is what matters the most. Showing up.
These services are the most ecumenical activity I engage in during the week. At every service I do there is a diversity of denominations represented—Roman Catholic, Methodist, Baptist, UCC, and others. Rarely does anyone decline taking communion because I am not a priest or pastor in their denomination. They understand the common nature of faith. For my part, I have gained a broader perspective. At one of these services someone always addresses me as “Father.” Years ago I resisted it,out of fear that people might think I was pretending to be something I’m not. I’ve come to see being called “Father” as a title of respect, and of trust. When someone calls me “Father” I feel as though they are saying that they trust me.
It took me a long time to learn that ministry can take place in very simple ways. Jesus defines it in recognizing that where two or three are gathered, there he is also. (Matthew 18:20) What we do to minister to others in Christ’s name doesn’t have to be elaborate or expensive. Just showing up is a very good start, and it may be enough.
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