So, Here's What I Think...

Veiled from head to toe A gauzy film covering my eyes No one sees me, And I can't see them. (See clearly, that is.) It doesn't matter if the sky is clear Or if the clouds are out It's all the same gray.

Some years ago, I wrote quite a bit of poetry. I was even a member of a monthly poetry group. Lots of painful stuff happened then, and pain can be quite the muse for poetry, and writing in general. Today, I felt inspired to write a poem. Nothing particularly painful happened, rather, more of a wistful wondering, based on a chance encounter with a neighbor. It's a first draft, so likely it'll go through a few revisions before I feel like it's done. But here goes: "Sunflowers" Looking over the fence today, A neighbor was working in his yard. Not much different from my own Tending the lawn, Separating the despised weeds From the soft, green grass. As I watered my grass, I noticed a tall bunch of sunflowers Growing in the corner of my neighbor's yard. Lovely plants -- they reminded me of the blooms I once received as a gift. So, so tall -- The bright flowers rose higher than the fence. Then I realized what my neighbor was doing. The flow...

Maundy Thursday -- the Catholics refer to it as Holy Thursday, but we Episcopalians use the word, "maundy" (coming from a Latin word meaning mandate or command ) to emphasize the commandment given by Jesus to his disciples: " A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35) This service has a reenactment of Jesus washing the disciples' feet. At a certain point in the service, the priests removed their stoles and washed the feet of any person who came up to them. My church has a nice twist to that -- at the end, the Lay Eucharistic Ministers (lay assistants at the altar) then exchanged places with the priests and washed their feet -- showing that we are all to love and serve one another as Christ. This was the first year I didn't go up for the foot washing. Instead, I felt I needed to...

As an Episcopalian, I am a member of a liturgical church. "Liturgy," or "work of the people", consists of the rituals we use in worship to bring others and ourselves closer to God. Liturgy, as the definition implies, is an interactive form of worship. Perhaps that is why I lean so much towards it. Liturgy involves most of the senses (all, if you include incense), and incorporates movement in the form of standing, sitting, and kneeling. We sing, pray silently and aloud, and respond verbally to prompts in the service. In liturgical style, I prefer "High Church," or liturgy rich in vestments, sounds, sacred music, candles and incense. Some people refer to it as "smells and bells". I find that when done well, a High Church liturgy can bring me closest to experiencing the wonder and majesty of God. That's not to say that "Low Church", a simpler form of liturgy, or "Broad Church", which tries to blend aspects of High and...

Wow. Just. Wow. I love a sermon that makes me think, that adds something new to the store of knowledge I carry. Most sermons are good in the sense that they are reminders of things I already know, but forget. This one was powerful because it added more depth to a familiar story. I had a different interpretation in my last blog entry. The familiar story is usually known as the Parable of the Prodigal Son . You know, the younger son demands his share of the inheritance, blows it, returns home humbled, and his father takes him back with great celebration. The older son is angry because his no-good brother is welcomed home without any reproach while he slaves along, unappreciated. The father tells the older brother that "all that is mine is yours." Here's what I got from today's sermon: Reconciliation -- implies that something is not right, something needs to be fixed. Think about reconciling your checkbook and finding that you're two cents off. The church, ...

I greeted Fr. R with those words from the title, and he laughed and said it was an oxymoron. I replied, "Yes, I like that sort of thing." Well, "Happy Lent" is kind of an oxymoron and...kind of not. I happen to like Lent. When I wrote an article for my old church's newsletter, I learned that "Lent" came from an Anglo-Saxon word for "spring." That kind of stuck on me. When I think of Spring, I think of Spring Cleaning, being refreshed, starting anew. Lent is like that -- Spring Cleaning for the soul. I like the penitential seasons of Advent and Lent because they are an opportunity to intentionally clean up my spiritual life. Like housekeeping, one should clean up on a regular basis, but sometimes you need to set aside a special time to do some deep cleaning. In a couple of weeks, I'll meet with one of our priests and say my Confession. It will be an opportunity for me to hear God, through the priest, say "I forgive you." ...

Recently, I contributed a Lenten meditation for my former church's collection of writings. I like Lent, with its thoughtful, penitential focus. It's a lot like spring cleaning (the word lent comes from an Anglo-Saxon word for spring , after all) for the soul. Here's the meditation: Meditation for the 5th Day in Lent 2010 by Erlinda Please read 1 Corinthians 1:1-19 There is a saying: “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Unfortunately, this holds true when we look at the state of the Church in Corinth and the present-day Church. Because we have been created to live in community (Gen. 2:18, Matt. 18:20, 1 Cor. 1:9), we have an almost insatiable hunger to belong to something. But often, when we create groups in which to belong, we also create out-groups. When Paul learned that the Church had split into factions, he admonished the Corinthians to strive for unity, “in mind and purpose.” I have seen the sad results of church splits, whether from personal differen...