Ashes

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday - the first of the 40 days of Lent. And, like many of my fellow Christians, I attended a special service of worship which included the imposition of ashes. I have participated in Ash Wednesday services since I was very little. Then, I was the one walking up to the pastor... Now I am the pastor. (It is still a bit of a mind-trip, really.)

The church I am now serving held its Ash Wednesday service last night. I called the service "A Service of Confession and Forgiveness". Throughout the service, we read scripture and prayed together, confessing the sins of idolatry, violence, and selfishness. And together, we heard God's clear promise of forgiveness. We heard that Good News. We let the cleansing fire of the Holy Spirit burn away those valueless sins, purifying our hearts so that we might have a new space present within us for the new life offered us in Christ. Then the mark of the ashes was offered as a sign of our forgiveness and new life.

Now, I must admit... I typically have every element of these services planned out to the letter. But, I struggled with one element this year: what to say while I was marking my fellow travelers with the ashes. Traditionally, the pastor will refer to God's words to Adam in Genesis 3:19: "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." I've used those words before - and they are certainly appropriate - but, they just didn't seem to fit the full context of the service that I had put together. For whatever reason, I just couldn't decide what I needed to say... So, I stepped out in faith and decided to let the Spirit give me the words in the moment. Seriously. I walked down, opened the earthenware container that held the ashes, and waited for the people to come forward...all the while, having no idea what I would say as I made the sign of the cross on their foreheads with palm ashes.

Well, it shouldn't come as a surprise that the Spirit showed up just in time. As I marked the first person with ashes, I found myself saying, "The gift of God's grace, given to you." It certainly fit. Each and every one of us...marked with grace.

Anyone who has ever received the mark of ashes -- as well as, and perhaps more especially those who have ever done the marking -- will tell you that the ash just seems to get everywhere. Sure, you may have started with it only on your forehead, but somehow you will find that you get smudges of it on your hand, your bulletin has ashy fingerprints on it, or your glasses get a few flecks of ash on them. And if you are the one who is offering the mark of ashes...well... it is practically impossible not to get smudges of ash all over everything -- your robe, your cheeks, your Bible, the hymnal... I can't explain it. No matter how careful I am each year, I always end up with ashy smudges on things. Sometimes I discover them weeks later, only to wonder how on earth it got smudged with palm ashes.

So, with my index finger coated in ashes, as I tried to avoid getting ash marks all over the hymnal, I thought back to the words that the Spirit had given me as I made the sign of the cross on the foreheads of my fellow Lenten-travelers. "The gift of God's grace, given to you." And I had an epiphany, of sorts... God's grace is a lot like the ashes of Ash Wednesday. God's grace is a free gift. God's grace is pure. And God's grace gets all over everything...and there isn't anything any of us can do about it. Oh, sure... we try to stop God's grace from touching things (or people, or groups) that we don't think it is supposed to touch. But there really isn't anything we can do to stop it -- or, more specifically, there's nothing we can do to stop God from marking whatever or whomever God wants with smudges of grace.

Like the ashes of Ash Wednesday, the grace of God ends up all over the place...even the unexpected places... And -- when it comes to God's grace -- that is how it should be. Thanks be to God.

The Lenten Journey Begins...

For several years now, I have opted out of the whole "give something up for Lent" thing. Instead, I have chosen to dare to "take something on for Lent". This year, I am challenging myself to take on 2 things:

1. Zumba
2. Actually posting to my blog on a regular basis

Yes, I am beginning Zumba classes. For those who aren't familiar with Zumba, it is a workout program/class that feels more like a Latin dance fiesta than your average exercise program. I've been to one class so far, and I loved it! In many respects, this one is all about the practice of Honoring the Body. As one who was created in the image of God, I need to remember that my body is worthy of care - it is, after all, "a temple of the Holy Spirit within [me]" (1 Corinthians 6:19).

My second challenge...well... I know that I have tried to post on a more regular basis in the past. I've even managed to succeed on occasion! But I really do want to work on this one. I find that I am forever thinking about things to post - things to write about, talk about, ask you all about...but then I don't bother to sit down and actually blog about it! This has got to change. So, considering another Christian practice - Saying Yes and Saying No - I am determined to do better.

You may be curious about this "Saying Yes and Saying No" business. Good. I hope you are curious! Once again, as I have done in the past, I am leading a study on several Christian practices during this season of Lent. I am a huge fan of the book Practicing Our Faith: A Way of Life for a Searching People (edited by Dorothy C. Bass) - it is a wonderful resource, and it provides for a fantastic book study. In conjunction with the book study, I am also going to be preaching on Christian practices during the entire season of Lent (and likely into the Easter season, as well). I plan to invite you all into the conversation here on my blog, too!

So...that's what I'm looking forward to as I begin this Lenten journey once again. How about you?

Ring Them Bells!

In honor of my love of the Muppets, and in celebration of the Christmas and Holiday Season...

Blogging Again, For The First Time

Peace and greetings, my fellow dancers! It has been FOREVER since I have posted (clearly), and for that I do apologize. I had high hopes of blogging on a more regular basis this last year, and then life got the best of me.

As many of you already know, I have recently accepted and been installed into a new call. Yes, I have bid a sad farewell to the Midwest, and I am now learning my way around the lovely state of New York. No, I am not living in the city, but I am only about an hour away. It it absolutely beautiful over here by the Hudson River, and - while the Winter is lovely - I can't wait to see this place in the Spring!

I really am hoping to be more faithful about posting - especially in the new year. Really! There are lots of things that will be going on this year, and I am excited to be able to share with this community. I may even do some lectionary-related blogging this year -- we'll see how the Spirit decides to inspire the dance...

The Great Flood of 2008... in Rhyme

'Twas the week before Christmas,
and in Macomb, Illinois,
not a person was driving -
neither a girl, nor a boy.
The ice storm had come,
and much power was down.
The ice coated EVERYTHING
in this Midwestern town.
The Fourth Sunday of Advent
was only 2 days away,
and the pastor at First Pres
found she needed to pray.
A parishioner called
and needed some help.
"The church building's flooded,"
he said with a yelp!
The ice, it would seem,
had coated the church,
clogging all of the drain spouts,
forcing the water to search
for the easiest path
to escape from the roof.
So the water flowed inside,
where things aren't so rustproof.
The pastor's left eye, well,
it started to twitch;
she feared driving to church
she'd end up in a ditch.
But she managed to get there
with the help of a friend
(who's own church then flooded
before the month's end)!

It had flooded the Chapel's
newly carpeted floor,
and it dripped from the speakers
and was soaked up by the door!
It flooded the pastor's old office -
and how!
She was ever so thankful
to not be in there now!
The water flowed into
the Conference Room,
and the pastor wondered when
the adult class could resume.
Down in the basement
the water dripped, too,
causing ceilings to crash
and tiles to unglue.
They gathered up waste cans
from each nook and cranny -
the number of leaks
and the drips was uncanny!
And up on the roof
they caused quite a clatter;
as they chipped at the ice,
my teeth started to chatter.
The work to clean up
went on through the night,
as the pastor, sexton, and others
worked with all of their might.

The Fourth Sunday of Advent -
it came and it went,
for the ice storm made it too hard
to attend any event.
But the Christmas Eve service
went according to plan,
and we all celebrated the birth
of the Son of Man.