I heard a snippet of this story on Fresh Air the other day,

Momma said there’d be days like that!

Yesterday started with the dishwasher crapping out, then when I took J to his math tutoring, M called saying the battery was dead in her car. While trying to jump start her car, I rolled down the passenger window of my truck to tell her to start the car and the window wouldn’t go up.

Yup, sounds about right.

So…..I went and changed her battery out at about 7 last night in 4 degree temps and then went off to Home Depot to get plastic and tape to cover my window. Guess what? Tape doesn’t like sticking to ANYTHING below about 25 degrees.

This morning, my ’8 o’clock into the office to catch up on the post-Annual meeting’ strategy was thwarted by cleaning off about 5 inches of the ‘skiff’ of snow that was forecast for the day and getting J to his bus. No sand on the roads and nary a plow in sight. The upside was that I was able to drive the car with the new battery in it.

Next task-call the mechanic and beg to see if he can at least get my window up to keep out the cold. (The plastic keeps the snow out pretty good, but seeing out of it to cross intersections is challenging, to say the least).

“We don’t do that sort of work, call N Auto Glass, tell ‘em Bruce sent you. They can probably do it while you wait.” I took it in. They said they could fix So I waited and watched someone just about park in the showroom of the locksmith shop across the street. Still no plows to be seen.

Patience paid off and in ninety minutes I left with a functioning window. Woo hoo!

Traffic is hideous and I’ve told M that I’ll take her to work. Another hour, but the right thing to do. Several other drivers on my journey drove as though there was plastic on their windows, but no accidents. Another blessing!

I walk in the door at 11 am and start on the phone messages, emails and incoming calls.

Weather says another storm headed our way! I’m positively giddy with excitement now (ok, not so much).

Then it sort of hits me. I slept in a warm house and had lots of choices for breakfast.

I could afford to get two cars fixed on short notice and had the resources to find the people to help me through-all by gift.

I have the mental capacity to face problems with the real hope of finding solutions-all by gift.

I have a wife and son to share my life with-all by gift.

I serve a congregation that understands that life happens, often times in spasms and floods-all by gift.

I have colleagues who’ll listen to me whine-all by gift.

I live in a state of constant grace, God’s unmerited favor–not because I’m smart but because God see’s me as Beloved and Belonging to him and worthy of sharing in the daunting task of helping to redeem and re-create goodness wherever I live and move and have my being.

ALL BY GIFT.

Long story short, battery changed, window fixed, credit limit lowered and God still loves me with unspeakable devotion and unwavering love.  It really is a good day.

A really good day!

In Celtic Spirituality there are places in God’s creation that are believed to be places where the lines between this world and the heavenly realm are blurred nearly to the point of non-existence.  These are called in, Celtic parlance, the ‘Thin Places’.

Many Holy Shrines are such places to many people.  The island monastic communities of Iona and Lindisfarne are such places

Lindisfarne Castle

for many Celts.  The ‘thin places’ are often times generally accepted along a wide community, but there are just as many of these spots that exist in personal experience as well.

I think that I’ve been blessed to be around a number of thin places in my life.  Both the generally agreed upon and also those that I’ve found to be ‘thin’ by virtue of travelling the pilgrims way and passing by them on that path.  Lately my ‘thin places’ haven’t been places so much as they have been the circumstances of my physical health and ability, or more accurately, the lack thereof.

Belden C. Lane has written a beautiful book about these sorts of places called; The Solace of Fierce Landscaspes: Exploring Desert and Mountain Spirituality in which he explores the importance of place in the spiritual life.  As with the

The Solace of Fierce Landscapes

places mentioned before, these places are not ones of particular comfort and ease.  The desert, the mountains, suffering and illness are all places in which we can be challenged beyond our limits.  In fact, I think that’s the point.  Remember, depending upon your Gospel choice, Jesus was either led or driven into the wilderness by the Spirit so that he could come to clarity about who he was and what his part of God’s mission was to be.

We are not often (if ever) willing to allow ourselves to be stretched beyond the point of comfort. We suffer the same ailment as did Adam and Eve in the Garden, we are tempted to be like Gods.

Illness, grief, suffering, drought, cold, wind, rain, dark, snow, heat and all the rest can be the ways in which we are drawn, driven or led to the ‘thin places’ in our lives that help us to regain perspective.  For me during this time of illness I’ve been reminded of two very important things.

• God is God and I am not
• Healing takes as long as it takes

Sometimes it takes a journey to the thin places for us to be reminded of our inabilities so that we can live anew in God’s endless capabilities in our lives and in the life of the world.

For today I pray for the grace and humility to be content with my ‘Not-Godness’ and the patience to be led by God to health, wholeness and healing following the pilgrims’ way for as long as it takes.

Sermon Audio: March 7, 2010-The Rev’d Warren Hicks

Exodus 3:1-15
Psalm 63:1-8
1 Corinthians 10:1-13
Luke 13:1-9

My goodness, it’s been an age since I really wrote something to put here.  I’d like to say that it’s the result of an intentional plan to be reflective and part of my Advent discipline, but that would be less than truthful.  Okay that would be a BFL (Big Fat Lie).

I’ve been doing the things that clergy do during Advent.  Though it may not have been a plan, the hiatus has been good for me.  Not only have I not written much, I haven’t read many of my favorite blogs for a month or so now. I’m not going to try and analyze it too much, I’m just going to try and learn what it has to teach me and move along.

Today’s huh, moment came when I was headed back to the office after lunch.  In a clear, 25 degree day, the tree in front of the church was filled with about 10 American Robins.  I pondered on that a bit and then went back to the stack of mail in my inbox. (It was my day to clear that bad boy–GTD David Allen wants me to have a ‘mind like water’).  I looked out the window and there weren’t 10 robins anymore.

There were more like 30 and a flock of starlings as well.

These birds that for me are the harbingers of spring (sort of like spring training baseball) were chasing one another around from tree to tree and make a big racket. Twenty-five degrees and robins?  What’s next, a king born in a barn?

The unpredictability of what’s at hand is an invitation to change how we see things it seems to me.  I become less and less surprised at anything anymore.  It’s not that it doesn’t inspire me to wonder, but it just is what it is and it will teach me what it has to teach me if I let it.

Whether it be Robins in spring or God being born poor and just like I was, it gives me pause to wonder just what God’s up to from one day to the next.

I can’t wait to see what sorts of surprises will come on the morrow.

My office windows look out, at roughly ground level, on the yard between the church and the rectory (where the rector and his family live).  I get to see the seasons pass before me. There’s much to learn from squirrels and birds if we pay attention.

Over the past couple of days, I’ve been watching young house sparrows and grey squirrels explore the world around them and learn about making their way in it.

I feed the birds intentionally.  The squirrels, not so much, but I feed them nonetheless.  Watching both species at my fancy ‘squirrel proof’ feeder is a real treat. 

The sparrows represent a scarcity mentality at its most fervent.  There are four feeding spots at this feeder. One would think that it would accommodate at least four sparrows at once.  Wrong!  Every time someone gets to the feeder and a second bird alights there as well, sparrow one freaks out and chases him off.  While that’s happening someone else flies in and snatches a seed or two while the vying is going on.  Pretty soon the feeder starts to sway a bit and birdseed winds up all over the place.  Interestingly enough, those who get to feed most peaceably and to their heart’s content seldom perch at the intended spot at all.

Sometimes we humans, even Christian ones are just like that.  We see abundance before us and expend more energy making sure that we get our share than we have to.  I like to think I’m pretty gracious with the wild bird mix in that feeder, but the frenzy mentality takes hold every time.  If I’m honest with myself, I’m often times more like a sparrow than one who trustsdeeply in Grace–God’s unmerited favor towards me.

Life in Christ is not competitive in the way of winners and losers.  We are called to an assured posture of God’s provision for us.  It seems to me that Jesus had a thing or two say about the first being last and the last being first.

God, give me the grace and courage to trust in you.  I suspect you care at least as much about feeding me and all of the rest of your Beloved as I do in feeding my sparrow friends.  Let my life and the lives of your faithful people reflect, demonstrate and proclaim that truth!

This past weekend a group of laypeople from St. Luke’s and I spent two days working with the folks at the Partnership for Missional Church (PMC), a process developed by Church Innovations of Minneapolis.  Simply put, PMC seeks to partner churches together to develop the skills of corporate spiritual discernment.  They facilitate gatherings of congregations, parish leaders and judicatories in a process of community assessment, gifts discernment and capacity building to help Christian communities identify “God’s promised and preferred future” in their common life.

One of the things that I am reflecting on about this weekend was a concept borrowed from physics called the Heisenberg uncertainty principle.  The overly simple explanation of the principle is that one can determined either the location of a subabtomic particle or its destination, but not both.  The implication for churches and discernment is that we can either control the process or the outcome of discernment, not both.

What seems most applicable about this principle, as applied to churches, is that we can either be faithful to the process of following and discipleship or we can do what we feel like we want to do, we cannot set out to ‘have it both ways’.  Simply put we can either trust God to take us where we are called to go or we can make our best guess as to where that is, go there and wait for God to show up.

It seems to me there’s an element of fear in either choice.

On the one hand we can hear the words of the author of the letter to the Hebrews as he writes, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” (10:31) and live with the question of whether or not God is inclined to break our fall, or we can deal with the anxiety of whether or not God will catch up to our plans and bless them ex post facto.

As ‘fearful’ as trusting God is in the times of great uncertainty, I believe that we’d do well to heed the words of the prophet Jeremiah, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope” (29:11).  I choose to believe that God has great plans in store for ‘The Church’ if we can invest in doing what is ours to do with respect to process and leave the outcome to God.

I close with this most wonderful passage from Ephesians, “Glory to God, who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever. Amen”²¹ (3:20-21).

May all our processes be faithful and God’s preferred and promised future for us all be revealed and sought with passion and courage.

Is the final question in this video the one that the Church should be dealing with most?

Thanks to my colleague Rich Simpson for sending the video link and the provocative question??

How does the message of the Gospel compete with all the other demands that a massively transitional world throws at us?  How do we imagine the path to faithful witness in the face of a world that is preparing for questions it can’t even ask yet?

I’ve probably done more reflecting on just what ‘happens’ during the keeping of a Holy Lent this year than in any other I care to remember.  Somewhere between my first Ash Wednesday service and the one that night I campe across the following quotation from Thomas Merton,

We must remember the original meaning of Lent, as the ver sacrum, the Church’s “holy spring”in which the catechumens were prepared for their baptism, and public penitents were made ready by penance for their restoration to the sacramental life in a communion with the rest of the Church. Lent is then not a season of punishment so much as one of healing.

From ‘Seasons of Celebration’

For me this little story captures much of what my Lent is going to be about.

Once upon a time there was a young couple who had their first child.  At about 5 years of age, the child began to leave toys strewn about his room at about bedtime shortly after moving into his ‘big boy bed’.  The parents were curious because the child had typically been very careful not to leave things lying about and was good about keeping things in order.  The watched with fascination and curiosity as the nightly regimen of leaving toy trucks, blocks, tops and most of all, Legos would find themselves littered about the room as bedtime approached.

After a time, curiosity got the better of them and they asked their son why he was being so messy with his toys in the evening.

He answered, “Because I want to make it harder for the monsters to get to me.”

They told the boy, as they had every night for as long as they could remember, “You are our child and we love you very much.  We’ll always protect you as best as we can.”

The boy looked at them believing his parents words, but doubting their ability to keep the monsters at bay, but his parents could tell that he was unconvinced.  They left the room carefull so as not to disturb the toys as they left.  They left the door half open per usual along with the light in the hallway.

It was late into the night that the call of the child awakened the parents and thay made their way to the bedroom door.  The paused briefly, knowing that there is little in this world that is more painful than stepping on the smallest of Lego pieces.  They just seem to stick.  The shuffled into the room moving the debris to both sides.

Kneeling by the bed, they repeated their mantra of commitment and care to their son, “You are our beloved child and we love you very much.  We’ll always do all that we can to keep you safe.  We’re here now, don’t be afraid.”

After a time he calmed and went back to sleep.

The parents carefully made their way back to their room hoping that the rest of the night would be uneventful. However, the pattern of waking in fear and calling out continued for a number of nights.

One night, maybe because of their fatigue, maybe because of the thunderstorm raging outside the window, the parents did not hear their son as quickly as they typically had.  Upon waking and not having his parents right there, the young boy lept out of bed and ran headlong toward the door.

Bang!  The toes on his right foot made contact with the big yellow bulldozer.  “Ouch!” he cried out.

His left foot then came down on two narrow, two button Legos.  “AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!”.  He hopped on his right foot until he made contact with the Lincoln Logs near the door.  He came down full force on the left foot, driving the Legos yet deeper into the soft flesh of the sole of his foot.

Just then, his parents burst through the door and gathered him in their arms and consoling him and brushing the Legos away.  That night, as you might imagine he slept the rest of the night in his parents’ bed.

The following night the parents noticed that something was different in the booby trapping of the bedroom.  There were still Legos, Lincoln Logs and all the rest on the floor, but this time there was a clear, straight path to the doorway leading to the hall the would bring the child safely to his parents should he awake afraid in the night.

As time went on, they parents noticed fewer and fewer obstacles between the bed and the door.  Things got quieter bit by bit, until the clutter was not so threatening.  Oddly enough some of the best times this family would have would be in clearing the clutter about the bed together to provide freer and easier access to one another in the dark nights with fear, anxiety and abiding care would strike at either end of the hall.

Fear was still there, but they understood that being together would vanquish fear in due course.

I hope the imagery is neither too obvious nor too obscure.

Lent, for me, this year is about allowing healing to take place.  For me it is the healing of my need to place obstacles in the way of my path to the God who promises, not that there will not be fearful times, but that together we can and will weather the storms, come what may.

May your Lent be Holy and Healing and may you and God work together to clear a path to be travelled easily and with confidence in the face of the fears that we all must face.

Today the Most Reverend Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury and the Right Reverend John Sentamu Archbishop of York, issued a call to prayer, fasting and action on behalf of those who are suffering most in Zimbabwe.  I commend it for your prayer, reflection and action.  Though it has come too late for my Ash Wednesday discipline, I intend to heed their call weekly as part of my Lenten Devotion.  Would you consider joining me?