Just between us, I'm going to make a confession. Although I love Christmas decorations, I have not decorated my home for Christmas.
All my Christmas celebrations happen away from home--many beautiful services at church, where both Chapel and Sanctuary bring us wonderful music and are gorgeously adorned with lighted trrees and wreaths and poinsettias and candles and stars and a major angel; in the homes of several church members who have made their homes beautiful and festive; at my sister's home in Seguin on Chrstmas Eve with my extended family, where the tree bears, in addition to the beautifully coordinated lights and ornaments, three that are several years older than I am: two little angels (one with pink wings, one with bhlue)and about eighteen inches of shiny foil circles on a thread (al that remains of perhaps six feet of the original, ordered, along with the angels, from the Sears catalog in 1925); and finally, on Christmas Day, in the home of Greg and Caroline and Veronica (children and grandchildren), where the decorations are lovely and quite eclectic.
Intending to decorate at my own cozy home, I got most of the boxes down from the high closets--many creches and angels and ornaments for display, but my artificial tree (purchased long ago in concession to my allergies) remains in the garage storeroom. and all the boxes of creches and angels and ornaments are stacked on the cedar chest in the spare bedroom. So...no decorations here at home.
Except for the gifts and wrapping paper spread out on the guest bed (to the great curiosity and enjoyment of my cat), and now overflowing to the kitchen table and the living room, where I stash them in big gift bags as they are wrapped (again, to the curiosity and enjoyment of my cat). So I've decided that the wrapping paper and ribbon and gift bags are, in fact, my Christmas decorations--including the foil packages and zip-loc bags of goodies in the freezer, awaiting distribution. They all remind me of the people I love, and the fun I had choosing and preparaing gifts for them. In our extended family, we no longer exchange gifts--we all have everything we need and most of what we want! But family members love readng the cards about what I chose for them at the Alternative Gift Market, and I've added some very small gifts designed to make them laugh. And of course, there are gift bags and boxes that have dome to me, bearing lovely things.
So it seems to me that the best Christmas decorations are the ones we give each other--from the wrappings around mny gifts to the decorations at church to the beautiful lights and displays in my neighborhood. I am grateful for them all. I urge you, at this Christmas time, to fill your heart with memories of these beautiful sighs and sounds. They will last long after the packages have been unwrapped and the decorations put away. They will warm your heart and light your way in the cold and darkness of winter and fill your life with your life with love.
Have a beautiful Christmas!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
The Sights and Sounds of ChristmasThe Sounds and Sights of ChristmasThe Sounds and Sights of Christmas
The Sounds and Sights of Christmas
Yes, I know we’re in the Advent season—and the Advent season is very important. As Frederick Buechner writes (paraphrased and abbreviated), Advent is the moment just before something very important and wonderful happens.
A long time ago a very stern curmudgeon told me that Advent is really intended to be a time of darkness, with emphasis on penitence and preparation. That is, in fact, where some of the Scripture selections take us. Just listen to John the Baptist preaching repentance, calling his congregation a bunch of snakes, doubting their sincerity in coming to him. That’s all about penitence. But there are more encouraging and hopeful Scripture selections, too. As the prophets call us to prepare, they speak to us of a time of peace and joy to come.
The latter message is what you’ll hear in Wednesday evening Chapel services between now and Christmas. It’s Advent in the church year, but the Chapel certainly looks like Christmas, with garlands and wreaths and two lovely lighted trees adorning our worship space, especially beautiful in candlelight. And the music will be very special this month. On December 12 the service will anticipate Christmas with lots of Scripture and music—sung by a soloist, a special ensemble, and the congregation, with beautiful music by our instrumentalists. On December 19, in our Service of Light in the Midst of Darkness, you’ll hear Shana Norton, harpist, accompanying Holy Communion and the Service of Anointing, as well as the favorite, “O Holy Night,” sung by Ruth Buss and Susan Sanders.
If this sounds like a shameless plug, it is. This is your invitation to join us on the next two Wednesdays, at 7:00 p.m. in the Murchison Chapel. The sights and sounds will be beautiful and will be lifted to God, whether you’re here or not. But those sights and sounds are sure to make your heart ready for the very important and wonderful thing that will happen on Christmas.
Yes, I know we’re in the Advent season—and the Advent season is very important. As Frederick Buechner writes (paraphrased and abbreviated), Advent is the moment just before something very important and wonderful happens.
A long time ago a very stern curmudgeon told me that Advent is really intended to be a time of darkness, with emphasis on penitence and preparation. That is, in fact, where some of the Scripture selections take us. Just listen to John the Baptist preaching repentance, calling his congregation a bunch of snakes, doubting their sincerity in coming to him. That’s all about penitence. But there are more encouraging and hopeful Scripture selections, too. As the prophets call us to prepare, they speak to us of a time of peace and joy to come.
The latter message is what you’ll hear in Wednesday evening Chapel services between now and Christmas. It’s Advent in the church year, but the Chapel certainly looks like Christmas, with garlands and wreaths and two lovely lighted trees adorning our worship space, especially beautiful in candlelight. And the music will be very special this month. On December 12 the service will anticipate Christmas with lots of Scripture and music—sung by a soloist, a special ensemble, and the congregation, with beautiful music by our instrumentalists. On December 19, in our Service of Light in the Midst of Darkness, you’ll hear Shana Norton, harpist, accompanying Holy Communion and the Service of Anointing, as well as the favorite, “O Holy Night,” sung by Ruth Buss and Susan Sanders.
If this sounds like a shameless plug, it is. This is your invitation to join us on the next two Wednesdays, at 7:00 p.m. in the Murchison Chapel. The sights and sounds will be beautiful and will be lifted to God, whether you’re here or not. But those sights and sounds are sure to make your heart ready for the very important and wonderful thing that will happen on Christmas.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Back from Italy!
That long, long trip I wrote about in October is now in the past, but far from forgotten. That long time (13 days) passed very quickly!
I learned many things, one of which is that it is probably impossible to have a bad meal in Italy. I discovered hot chocolate (the kind I expected to drink, but happily ate with a spoon instead) thicker and darker than hot fudge sauce. In Rome,I was dumbstruck by the Colosseum and the Forum—but not too dumbstruck to ask lots of questions of our guide. I stood with just six other people in the Sistine Chapel, attempting to grasp the enormity of the project, awed by the strangeness of what was there, and overwhelmed by the incredible amount of ornamentation throughout the Vatican Museum. I struggled to keep back tears in the Jewish synagogue as our guide told us stories of centuries of persecution, and the desecration of the building by Nazis during World War II. I spent a night in a ninth-century castle, where the host served pineapple upside-down cake for breakfast, followed by cereal and fruit and a long conversation about United Methodist beliefs—he really wanted to know! I saw autumn in Tuscany, with mountainsides covered in gold and red, learning that Sally Watkins will drive a car over anything like a road to get where we want to go. I heard a priest chanting the mass in an old, old abbey in Sant Antimo, and dared to dip my fingertip into the holy water. I explored the infinite variety of shopping opportunities in Rome and Florence, and even bought a few things. You’ll see my new red stole from Rome on Pentecost Sunday next May! Perhaps most important, with my two traveling companions, Sally and Sue, I spent two evenings in Italian homes, invited by a driver and a guide.
The trip taught me what most of you already know—that it is good to look at and live in another part of the world occasionally; that it is important to take time to feed one’s soul. I experienced what I’m good at telling other people: that rest and play and discovery can bring us as close to God as does work—perhaps even closer. And I realized anew what a gift it is to share uninterrupted time with friends.
I’m very glad I made the trip; I’m very glad to be safely home. It was incredibly hard to be so far away at a time when there were significant losses among us, but that was a learning experience, too. Returning in time for our All Saints celebration helped. Standing in the Chapel and Sanctuary with those dear congregations, singing “For All the Saints,” hearing the names of the departed read, lighting candles for those we have loved—all reminded me of the power of the community of faith that is ours. I am blessed to be here with you, and so appreciate all your encouragement—in this travel adventure and in my ministry.
I learned many things, one of which is that it is probably impossible to have a bad meal in Italy. I discovered hot chocolate (the kind I expected to drink, but happily ate with a spoon instead) thicker and darker than hot fudge sauce. In Rome,I was dumbstruck by the Colosseum and the Forum—but not too dumbstruck to ask lots of questions of our guide. I stood with just six other people in the Sistine Chapel, attempting to grasp the enormity of the project, awed by the strangeness of what was there, and overwhelmed by the incredible amount of ornamentation throughout the Vatican Museum. I struggled to keep back tears in the Jewish synagogue as our guide told us stories of centuries of persecution, and the desecration of the building by Nazis during World War II. I spent a night in a ninth-century castle, where the host served pineapple upside-down cake for breakfast, followed by cereal and fruit and a long conversation about United Methodist beliefs—he really wanted to know! I saw autumn in Tuscany, with mountainsides covered in gold and red, learning that Sally Watkins will drive a car over anything like a road to get where we want to go. I heard a priest chanting the mass in an old, old abbey in Sant Antimo, and dared to dip my fingertip into the holy water. I explored the infinite variety of shopping opportunities in Rome and Florence, and even bought a few things. You’ll see my new red stole from Rome on Pentecost Sunday next May! Perhaps most important, with my two traveling companions, Sally and Sue, I spent two evenings in Italian homes, invited by a driver and a guide.
The trip taught me what most of you already know—that it is good to look at and live in another part of the world occasionally; that it is important to take time to feed one’s soul. I experienced what I’m good at telling other people: that rest and play and discovery can bring us as close to God as does work—perhaps even closer. And I realized anew what a gift it is to share uninterrupted time with friends.
I’m very glad I made the trip; I’m very glad to be safely home. It was incredibly hard to be so far away at a time when there were significant losses among us, but that was a learning experience, too. Returning in time for our All Saints celebration helped. Standing in the Chapel and Sanctuary with those dear congregations, singing “For All the Saints,” hearing the names of the departed read, lighting candles for those we have loved—all reminded me of the power of the community of faith that is ours. I am blessed to be here with you, and so appreciate all your encouragement—in this travel adventure and in my ministry.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Off to Italy!
On Sunday, October 21, I will leave Austin for a long, long trip to Italy. Really long—twelve days! No, really, that’s a long, long trip for me. I think long and hard before embarking on a five-day trip for continuing education within the bounds of the United States. I am definitely a homebody.
I’m not sure exactly how this happened, but it’s happening. I will travel to Rome, Tuscany, and Florence with two of my dearest and longest-standing friends, Sally Watkins and Sue Bock. Since Sally is a travel agent and a specialist in Italy, and Sue is reading all the books Sally has assigned as pre-trip homework, I am assured of the best possible companionship. My most enjoyable preparation for the trip has been reading John Grisham’s new book about American football in Italy, Playing for Pizza. I don’t expect to see American football there, but I can’t wait to sample real Italian food made in Italy!
For a person born into a poor family in the depths of the Great Depression, this trip is a huge luxury. Is it really okay to spend the money and time this way? Should I stay home and give the money to the church or to the poor? Should I save it for a rainy day and my old age, which might come some time far in the future?
I have thought about this a lot—in fact, I think about this when making many small decisions about spending money. I know that everything I have comes from God, and that I have been hugely blessed to have come to a place in life that allows such discretionary spending. I find it amazingly wonderful that I have been so blessed, and agonizingly painful to remember that I have so much and so many have so little.
So…I live in some tension in this world of haves and have-nots. I know that I am not called to the life of an ascetic—take a look in my clothes closet or refrigerator, and that will be clear to anyone. But I know that I am called to be responsible to God for what I have…so along with my extra spending on this trip, I will do some extra giving to the church. I have listened with much interest and shared joy as friends who have traveled afar have described their journeys, and believe their travel has enriched their lives. So as I go, I will remember that God must surely be happy when we seek and explore new things, strange beauty, unfamiliar treasures, and the joy of friends.
I’ll be back to celebrate All-Saints worship with the saints of First Church, and I’ll probably be eager to tell you about my adventures. In the meantime, grace and peace to each of you!
I’m not sure exactly how this happened, but it’s happening. I will travel to Rome, Tuscany, and Florence with two of my dearest and longest-standing friends, Sally Watkins and Sue Bock. Since Sally is a travel agent and a specialist in Italy, and Sue is reading all the books Sally has assigned as pre-trip homework, I am assured of the best possible companionship. My most enjoyable preparation for the trip has been reading John Grisham’s new book about American football in Italy, Playing for Pizza. I don’t expect to see American football there, but I can’t wait to sample real Italian food made in Italy!
For a person born into a poor family in the depths of the Great Depression, this trip is a huge luxury. Is it really okay to spend the money and time this way? Should I stay home and give the money to the church or to the poor? Should I save it for a rainy day and my old age, which might come some time far in the future?
I have thought about this a lot—in fact, I think about this when making many small decisions about spending money. I know that everything I have comes from God, and that I have been hugely blessed to have come to a place in life that allows such discretionary spending. I find it amazingly wonderful that I have been so blessed, and agonizingly painful to remember that I have so much and so many have so little.
So…I live in some tension in this world of haves and have-nots. I know that I am not called to the life of an ascetic—take a look in my clothes closet or refrigerator, and that will be clear to anyone. But I know that I am called to be responsible to God for what I have…so along with my extra spending on this trip, I will do some extra giving to the church. I have listened with much interest and shared joy as friends who have traveled afar have described their journeys, and believe their travel has enriched their lives. So as I go, I will remember that God must surely be happy when we seek and explore new things, strange beauty, unfamiliar treasures, and the joy of friends.
I’ll be back to celebrate All-Saints worship with the saints of First Church, and I’ll probably be eager to tell you about my adventures. In the meantime, grace and peace to each of you!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
