Interested in joining us? Link to our Visitor's Center.
For worship, Kaye used a striking poem by John O'Donohue about any given day being a "eucharist of the ordinary," "transforming our broken fragments" of time into a "continuity." Scroll down to the bottom of this page to see the whole thing. The General Thanksgiving summed up our feelings. She concluded with "O Gracious Light."
Keeping with the theme of "an ordinary day," Kaye asked what our favorite days are. Monday, after a successful EFM meeting, or Tuesday after teaching yoga class... Good things in my life have often happened on Tuesdays... Any day Liam sees Grandma, and Saturdays at home with the family... Friday when no alarm clock's necessary and when the same friends have met for Mexican dinner for 30 years... Saturday mornings at the Farmers Market... TGIF... and just being home.
Yr. D, 1st yr: Michael, Mason; 2nd yr: Lanie; 3rd yr: Joyce, Susan; 4th yr, Jessica, Rita; 5th yr "Wide Angle," Kaye. Mentor: Scott. Absent: None.
Jessica sent questions out to the group by email. One concerned the "Welcome" sign outside most Episcopal Churches and a number of questions about "welcome" in the materials we engaged with. The other question concerned what it means to lead a Godly life. Years 1 and 2 met together in a breakout room (with Susan, too) for discussion of intra- and inter- mural conflict revealed in the minor prophets and the letter to the Hebrews -- the opposite of "welcome," it seems. Years 3 and 4 met in another breakout room where focus was very much on how to lead a Godly life, including the part played by singing hymns together. Hymn writer Carl Daw extolled the 1982 hymnal for "welcoming" new sources in a collection that retains traditional music and poetry over 1000 years old.
Lanie spoke from experience about the hymns in our collection that come from other traditions. She's grateful that we sing ALL the verses of the hymns, because they typically tell a story or build a complete thought that you miss if you skip to the end.
We heard that retired Archbishop Rowan Williams wrote that the essence of discipleship is not about going out to conquer, but just "following" Jesus. Scott wondered aloud what it means to "follow" Jesus when all we have of him is books and peoples' testimonies and theories. Everyone's readings came together to answer that question: Look for Jesus in others, as we promise in our baptismal covenant; find him where he always hung out, i.e. with the poor and the outcasts; being committed to growth over a lifetime. Of course, participate in worship and prayer with the rest of his body, the Church. Kaye tied this to welcome when she told of her visit to St. Philips in Texas, whose website asked any visitor, "What can we do for you to make you a better disciple?"
Michael brought us a nail from the USS Constitution, oldest continuously active ship in our national fleet. Is the nail authentic, or just an authentic copy? We focused on something Michael said early on, that the only original wood in the ship is below the keel where you can't see it; all above that has been painstakingly redone with newer materials.
We decided to imagine ourselves to be crew on a ship that's half and half original and restored. We imagined the creaking sounds, the smell of the Georgia pine, the flapping sails, and confidence in the construction: we're safe.
Where is sin in the world of this ship? It was created to kill. Its maintenance is expensive, its cannon annoying to the surrounding communities (especially when the crew shot off a barrage in a spiteful celebration of a lawsuit's failure to silence the ship).
"Redemption" this time turned out to be central to everything that followed. Yes, the ship was built to kill, but it has been repurposed to be a moving monument and a place where visitors feel connected to our past and inspired by our ideals. Susan pointed out that we automatically personify the ship, so this is a "personal" redemption.
We connected variously to boats and sailing, and could imagine this world easily. When we connected to Tradition, we hit a lode of valuable insights. Mason reminded us that the Church itself has long been compared to a ship, so that we call our central worship space the "nave" (same root as "navy"). Like the USS Constitution, our Episcopal Church has maintained the old design even while replacing so much of its old prejudices and violence. Paul himself started as a killing machine, and he retained a lot of his gung-ho personality when he shifted towards community-building. His analogy to the "body" could be applied to the crew of a ship; and becoming a Christian is also like the ship, as what people may see only looks like the same old person you were. The Cross itself was an instrument of torture, now a symbol of new life and hope.
Lanie leads worship. Jessica will bring "kindling" to start a TR. And Rita has already sent out the questions for week 32:
Happy Tuesday everyone!
I've chosen the first two questions from the Respond section for our discussion next week:
- If you were to take an X-ray of the world of your Engage assignment this week, what perspectives, contexts, beliefs, and behaviors would be illuminated?
- How have you experienced the inclusion or exclusion of people in your Engage assignment this year? In your journey with God? How does this impact your call to service?
Here's the poem that Kaye used for our worship:
The Inner History of a Day
No one knew the name of this day;
Born quietly from deepest night,
It hid its face in light,
Demanded nothing for itself,
Opened out to offer each of us
A field of brightness that traveled ahead,
Providing in time, ground to hold our footsteps
And the light of thought to show the way.
Born quietly from deepest night,
It hid its face in light,
Demanded nothing for itself,
Opened out to offer each of us
A field of brightness that traveled ahead,
Providing in time, ground to hold our footsteps
And the light of thought to show the way.
The mind of the day draws no attention;
It dwells within the silence with elegance
To create a space for all our words,
Drawing us to listen inward and outward.
We seldom notice how each day is a holy place
Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,
Transforming our broken fragments
Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.
Somewhere in us a dignity presides
That is more gracious than the smallness
That fuels us with fear and force,
A dignity that trusts the form a day takes.
So at the end of this day, we give thanks
For being betrothed to the unknown
And for the secret work
Through which the mind of the day
And wisdom of the soul become one.
John O’Donohue (1954-2008) To Bless The Space Between Us, A Book of Blessings



