When I was a kid, I loved the Romper Room show. It was a TV preschool for most of us; real preschool was only for the very wealthy in those days! At any rate, I loved to watch this program, and the teacher "Miss Whoever" had a magic mirror that she used at the end of the show to say hello and give special messages to children watching. Now, after a while, I got suspicious of the Magic Mirror. I was not so sure how magic it really was. No matter how much I wanted Miss Romper Room to see ME and say hello to ME, she never did. In fact, she never said anything to anyone I knew. Which made me question just how magic the magic mirror really was! ALL my friends watched Romper Room, but the magic mirror never seemed able to see any of us. Clearly it was broken....or something more sinister was going on!
Miss Romper Room always ended the program with her advice to "Do be a DO bee. Don't be a DON'T bee." Of course, the real message in her admonition was to be positive, have that 'can do' attitude, approach life with the spirit of the Little Engine that Could. But there was also that subtler message....life is about doing. What did you do at school today? What did you do at work? What do I do to make the world a better place? Just plain old; what do you do? Be a DO bee. Do, Do, Do....
Ah, the bane of my existence. I'm so good at 'do.' Task-oriented just barely begins to describe me. It's not that I am a bundle of excess energy that gets a lot done all the time. It is just that my way of approaching life is in terms of what needs to get done. It took me too long in my last church position to realize that time, maybe lots of time, was needed at the beginning of any meeting to touch base, reconnect with people, check in on each other. No tasks allowed right off the bat! To me, this was 'wasted time' time when tasks were not being attended to, time we could have been using to analyze, decide, plot, determine....you get the picture.
Eventually I learned that not many tasks get their due attention until the people have been attended to first. The people; their lives, their dreams, their hopes, their joys, their disappointments, their struggles, their successes. What felt like idle chatter to me was in fact the glue that was necessary for a group of people to be able to face a task and have any sort of success with it. But I was still pretty happy once we finally got to (what I considered) the meat of the meeting!
Now I find myself in a tiny church, without a lot to 'do.' At least by my definition! Yes, I've read a bunch of books on stewardship. I've visited so many websites about emergent worship I could function in place of Google. I preached and formatted worship for July. But the feeling lingers that I am not 'doing' enough. So many days I go home and think 'what have I DONE today?' I don't think I have had one list of tasks to check up on at all this summer.
And then Henri Nouwen whispers in my ear. Have you read Henri? I strongly recommend him; lots of good books out there to his name. But years ago, in a parish far far away, Henri came to my attention through the mother of a severely handicapped child. This mother was forging the way for an inclusive worship community, not just for her son, but for all. She was an inspiration then, and continues to be so. And like so many prophets, she made people uncomfortable. They didn't want her around. Didn't want to include her in meetings or events. Spoke in hushed undertones in ways that intimated 'oh you KNOW about HER.' She made us uncomfortable, and rightly so!
But she was so clear with her mission; the physical church buildings needed to be accessible to all. And she would do all she could to make that happen. And she did. And in that process, she spoke Henri's prophetic words to me: "being is more important than doing." I can honestly say I did not get this at all when she said it. But as in all things God, the words stuck with me and would periodically resound in my brain, just sort of bouncing around in there. Eventually I read Nouwen's In the Name of Jesus and was wonder struck to find these thoughts of his in that book.
The book is the story of his journey both literally and figuratively from the land of thinking to the land of feeling, from mind to heart. In his story, he reveals the struggle of giving up the intellectual, task oriented approach to life as well as the joy and celebration of finally embracing the loving and compassionate approach to living with the world. Henri left the world of high class, upper education (think Notre Dame and Harvard!) for the land of the forsaken. He became the leader of L'Arche, an adult home for the profoundly retarded. Talk about whiplash! For Henri, life became about 'being' rather than 'doing.' Being with others, celebrating with them, crying with them, waiting with them, rejoicing with them, wondering with them, praying with them; entering into their lives in ways that connected him with their hearts, because their minds were not able to connect with his. And for Henri, this is really Jesus Work. This is what ministry is all about. This is what Jesus did.
Of course, for those of us that like the 'do' side of the equation, Jesus did a lot of things as well! He walked on water, he fed thousands with scraps, he healed what seemed like every leper that ever lived, he preached, he taught, he partied! But Henri tells me that the heart of Jesus' mission was not in these things he did, but in his compassionate companionship with others. And indeed, a close reading of the Gospels shows me a Jesus who gets upset with followers who want to focus on these events and not on his identity as the one who defines love and tells us to love our neighbor as ourselves. Hmmmm, Jesus was a Be Bee.
So this friendship I have forged with the 15 year old...is that something I have 'done?' The listening I do twice a week with the sitter for a NA program...what is that? Is that 'being' with her in a way that is ministry? And I have made friends with an 80 year old through weekly visits who has shared so much of her life story with me. She has made me laugh like a toddler more than once. And shown me that life is always the same; joy and pain, laughter and tears, struggle and success, no matter the time in history or the person. All that is required to get through any of it is being with another, companionship for the journey. I have waited (patiently?) while two programs I would like to launch linger in the sides. People who are interested in getting these programs off and running are facing personal issues that prevent them from digging into new ministries at church. And so instead of doing these ministries, I spend my time being with them. I am not 'doing' by my standards, but I guess I am certainly 'being.' To be...or to do....I am learning to be a Be Bee and not a Do Bee. And I don't need a magic mirror to send me the right messages, I just need to pay attention to the Gospels....and to my heart.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
By and By
I've been musing on the loss of some pretty impressive women lately. The church where I am working lost a dear soul unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was 84, but in pretty decent health and had even been the lector at worship the first Sunday of July. She went into the hospital for a routine procedure, and instead of coming home she went home to Jesus. We are all still walking around in a state of shock. She was a tiny little red head with such a sincere smile and beautiful manner about her. I didn't know her well or long, but still felt the the huge loss, and am grateful to have crossed her path. The words congregants used to describe her during the memorial service were ones any of us would wish to be remembered for.
And this week I sit at my laptop composing a service for my husband's 100 year old grandmother who went home to Jesus in February. Ligouri (what a great name!) had been lost to us mentally for years, but for reasons we cannot know, and maybe should not know, her body lingered on here in this world. We will all gather in San Diego next week to celebrate my mother-in-law's 80th birthday as well as celebrate Ligouri's life. I never met her, but have relished the stories I have heard from her two daughters this week as we plan the service. But I love her, as she is one of the reasons my husband exists, one of the reasons he is who he is. All of us gathered at the beach next week will be there one way or another because of Ligouri!
Our closing hymn at the memorial service will be I'll Fly Away, a toe-tapping, heading-bobbing country tune that is certainly celebratory in it's rhythm. I'm stealing my waving wand idea from the Undignified service in July and enlisting the three oldest great-great grandchildren to pass them out and get the dancing going. It should be a fitting way to end a celebration for a life of over 100 years! We always say a funeral or memorial service is a celebration; I'm hoping we live into that claim next week.
The trouble is, I cannot get the tune out of my head. Over and over it plays.
And that gets me thinking about my own grandmother. She is the only one I can remember who always said 'by and by'....'when are we leaving?' 'by and by' 'when will Mom be home?' 'by and by' I knew what the words meant, but I never really understood how they got the meaning they did. But we will sing them at Ligouri's service and I will know that 'by and by' I will also fly away to Jesus.
My own 96 year old aunt flew to Jesus last August. She was the oldest of the six in my mother's family and perpetuates a phrase from one of my favorite pastors. She was a "strong, fierce Irish woman," in the best sense of every one of those words! She never finished high school, as the depression wreaked havoc, instead leaving home for the city to work in THE department store. But in her 40's she returned to school and earned her nursing degree. At 73 she got her driver's licence! At 92, when the car conked out, she declared that was God's way of saying neither she nor the car should be out on the road, and she gave up her keys. Talk about fierce courage!
And she was the center of so much of the life of our family. She taught my children how to play poker at three years of age (no joke). If Dot was around, a card game was in progress or being organized. She would stock the cupboards with all sorts of delicious junk when my brothers and I were arriving for our annual two week vacation at the beach. And she could literally carry on three conversations at once and still hear all that was going on in that fourth conversation. She always knew her mind, and was never afraid to share it. But she was never mean or complaining or critical. I'm not sure she was a person you got close to in an emotional sort of way, but she was the bedrock of the family. I think even at 96 we were just stunned that she actually died...I think we thought she would be with us forever, or at least outlive all of us. It seemed way too soon for her 'by and by' to have arrived.
As I ponder all of these amazing women in their 80s, 90s, 100s, I am grateful for the gift of their lives and how my own life has been shaped or transformed by them. Ligouri would never know the impact she had on me, but believe me, through my husband's love and partnership, she indeed has influenced my life. My aunt had been with me my whole life; it would take pages to chronicle her impact! And the dear soul in church, well she just makes me want to be a better woman, to hear the things said at her memorial service said at mine! And so next week we will celebrate the centenarian. We will pray, hear scripture, sing, and hopefully dance our thanks for Ligouri's life, and know that by and by others will hopefully do the same when we fly away.
And this week I sit at my laptop composing a service for my husband's 100 year old grandmother who went home to Jesus in February. Ligouri (what a great name!) had been lost to us mentally for years, but for reasons we cannot know, and maybe should not know, her body lingered on here in this world. We will all gather in San Diego next week to celebrate my mother-in-law's 80th birthday as well as celebrate Ligouri's life. I never met her, but have relished the stories I have heard from her two daughters this week as we plan the service. But I love her, as she is one of the reasons my husband exists, one of the reasons he is who he is. All of us gathered at the beach next week will be there one way or another because of Ligouri!
Our closing hymn at the memorial service will be I'll Fly Away, a toe-tapping, heading-bobbing country tune that is certainly celebratory in it's rhythm. I'm stealing my waving wand idea from the Undignified service in July and enlisting the three oldest great-great grandchildren to pass them out and get the dancing going. It should be a fitting way to end a celebration for a life of over 100 years! We always say a funeral or memorial service is a celebration; I'm hoping we live into that claim next week.
The trouble is, I cannot get the tune out of my head. Over and over it plays.
I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away.
When I die Hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away.
And that gets me thinking about my own grandmother. She is the only one I can remember who always said 'by and by'....'when are we leaving?' 'by and by' 'when will Mom be home?' 'by and by' I knew what the words meant, but I never really understood how they got the meaning they did. But we will sing them at Ligouri's service and I will know that 'by and by' I will also fly away to Jesus.
My own 96 year old aunt flew to Jesus last August. She was the oldest of the six in my mother's family and perpetuates a phrase from one of my favorite pastors. She was a "strong, fierce Irish woman," in the best sense of every one of those words! She never finished high school, as the depression wreaked havoc, instead leaving home for the city to work in THE department store. But in her 40's she returned to school and earned her nursing degree. At 73 she got her driver's licence! At 92, when the car conked out, she declared that was God's way of saying neither she nor the car should be out on the road, and she gave up her keys. Talk about fierce courage!
And she was the center of so much of the life of our family. She taught my children how to play poker at three years of age (no joke). If Dot was around, a card game was in progress or being organized. She would stock the cupboards with all sorts of delicious junk when my brothers and I were arriving for our annual two week vacation at the beach. And she could literally carry on three conversations at once and still hear all that was going on in that fourth conversation. She always knew her mind, and was never afraid to share it. But she was never mean or complaining or critical. I'm not sure she was a person you got close to in an emotional sort of way, but she was the bedrock of the family. I think even at 96 we were just stunned that she actually died...I think we thought she would be with us forever, or at least outlive all of us. It seemed way too soon for her 'by and by' to have arrived.
As I ponder all of these amazing women in their 80s, 90s, 100s, I am grateful for the gift of their lives and how my own life has been shaped or transformed by them. Ligouri would never know the impact she had on me, but believe me, through my husband's love and partnership, she indeed has influenced my life. My aunt had been with me my whole life; it would take pages to chronicle her impact! And the dear soul in church, well she just makes me want to be a better woman, to hear the things said at her memorial service said at mine! And so next week we will celebrate the centenarian. We will pray, hear scripture, sing, and hopefully dance our thanks for Ligouri's life, and know that by and by others will hopefully do the same when we fly away.
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