Day by Day

Sometimes it's a Nocturne by Chopin, sometimes it's the opening chapter of the Gospel of John, sometimes it's a song by an up and coming artist.

Yesterday it was something I can usually count on. Yesterday, I knew God's overwhelming presence through the following hymn:

Day by Day

Day by day, your mercies, Lord, attend me,
bringing comfort to my anxious soul.
Day by day, the blessings, Lord, you send me
draw me nearer to my heav'nly goal.
Love divine, beyond all mortal measure,
brings to naught the burdens of my quest;
Savior, lead me to the home I treasure,
where at last I'll find eternal rest.

Day by day, I know you will provide me
strength to serve and wisdom to obey;
I will seek your loving will to guide me
o'er the paths I struggle day by day.
I will fear no evil of the morrow,
I will trust in your enduring grace.
Savior, help me bear life's pain and sorrow
till in glory I behold your face.

Oh, what joy to know that you are near me
when my burdens grow too great to bear;
oh, what joy to know that you will hear me
when I come, O Lord, to you in prayer.
Day by day, no matter what betide me,
you will hold me ever in your hand.
Savior, with your presence here to guide me,
I will reach at last the promised land.

Ouch, pinching hurts.

A wise friend told me last week that my church and I sound like we are at a "pinch point." From what he said, it sounds like it's the time when we are recognizing each other's weaknesses and having to determine that we are going to deal with them.

I know I've let people down in the last year and a half, and yet for some reason, it seems like right now that is happening a lot. I know I've been let down too, and I sometimes forget that. It took me relating a particular story to my mom and her saying, "well, that's kind of mean" for me to realize that, yeah, it is. I sometimes lack that perspective.

It was actually only one particular instance that seemed to pinch really hard. But, that pinch left a bruise and all of the other little pinches that usually just tickle a little now hurt.

It was good to be with family these past few days, with people who love me no matter what. People I can literally physically lean on. A place where I don't have to wonder what I'm going to feed myself or how close I am to being out of toilet paper. In some ways, a place to nurse my wounds.

My bruise is now just starting to yellow and fade. I'm still sensitive. Last Monday I shared with the council that I had been having a hard week (the week before) - it was good to figuratively lean on them - even if they don't know what all of the weight I'm carrying is - they know that I'm struggling. And sometimes that's all I need.

To let someone else know that I'm hurting.

The picture of generosity

I don't think I even grasp the enormity of the Spirit at work. I can't even begin to express the generosity of people who have nothing.

Today, I preached from the Gospel of Mark - about the scribes who are full of themselves and devour widows houses & the poor widow who gave all that she had (2 coins worth a penny) to the temple's treasury. I focused on the Point of View - or the focus of each character - and that of Jesus.

I've written about our homeless man that is more a part of our congregation than many members. He attends almost every Sunday. He helps out on church work days and comes during the middle of the week to rake leaves or help with other outside labor. He brings tears to my eyes and humbles me in conversation about his faith (and right now as I type). He's kind, considerate, humble, works to hold his temper around some of the other campers - basically he lives with - who drink too much. He likes to sleep outside and feels stifled inside.

Today after the service (and after my sermon about the poor widow who gave everything), he came up to me to shake my hand (like many parishioners do) and told me the following story: yesterday he found himself (for the first time) at a particular agency that works with homeless people. He said that he stumbled upon their board meeting and everyone was invited to it. There were door prizes & he won a digital camera. Would we have any use for it?

We have had a digital camera on our "wish list" for a little more than 1/2 a year. We accepted the camera, and will put it to good use, as he would want us to.

I'm starting to get the feeling that my time here in this congregation is going to be defined more by my interaction with this one man than with anyone or anything else. I am humbled, amazed and inspired by him. I truly see Christ in him, even if he doesn't see it for himself. (We're working on that - on how he embodies Christ's love in the world).

When she told me her grandson had returned from Iraq, the tiny 80-something dedicated saint actually jumped up and down. She's a calm, reasonable woman, but she jumped up and down - and I left with a lipstick mark on my cheek.

I got to hold an 8 month old baby with big blue eyes today. Apparently she loves to dance to Christina Aguliara. Her mom says it's better than Justin Timberlake.

Last night I got to play detective as the Property chair and I walked through the building to be sure no one was camping out there. Apparently a man had been in a back staircase the day we have an older adults group - he ran out the outside door when the "older adult" surprised him. I love church buildings - I could walk around sanctuaries in the dark all the time. Of course, we also had to look through the basement. The Property chair let me hold the flashlight.

Supporting the self-sufficient and secretive

It's not uncommon for people to invite me into their pain and tell me they don't want anyone to know.

Two more people have cancer. Neither wants anyone to know.

Neither wants me to go to any extra effort with them (whether bringing communion to the one who is homebound or going and praying with the other while (or before) her chemo at the hospital).

Both want me to pray.

And, I get it. I think I would be like that too. It is difficult when so many people continuously ask "how are you doing?" with that look of pity in their eyes. It's even more difficult if no one goes to any extra effort to offer care.

I'm not sure how much to push it for these women who have a hard time asking for help. I'll call to check in. Should I ever show up unannounced? That seems like it's going too far.

An off-topic PS - when I spell-checked, one of the suggestions to replace "Chemo" was "Cheney." Well, he does sometimes induce vomiting and loss of hair.

Mob Mentality

I spent a lot of this week standing outside in a crowd of people listening to someone speak/demand/incite.

Yeah, I got to hear Barack Obama (who really does give me hope for our country) and Cindy Sheehan and I got to be part of a symbolic backdrop for something that received little to no press (against reinstating the death penalty).

One of my parishioners regularly asks me where the activist clergy are. He wants someone to lead an outcry against injustice. He wants marches in the streets with angry shouts and rallies. We've had some good conversations around this, especially around the incredible isolation of leadership and need for support for said activist clergy.

But, I also wonder about the climate. I've taken part in marches and gatherings and protests. I believe in using my voice, in gathering people to do so together, bringing a more powerful presence. But, do these protests, do these marches, to these gatherings ever bring about change? It seems reactionary rather than progressive. Couldn't the same amount of energy produce greater results by working for justice in different ways.

Am I just becoming cynical? or worse, lazy? or even worse, ambivalent?

I do get that people are energized by these events. And, a show of support (my main purpose for attending two of these events - Barack was for fun) encourages and gives credence to someone's position.

Maybe I just don't like crowds (and maybe this is a good excuse to avoid practicing my sermon at 9:30 on Saturday night).