The Rev. Honorable Emanuel Cleaver II at North Street!

I was at North Street UMC most of the afternoon and evening today. with Rev. Honorable Emanuel Cleaver II in his new appointment as assistant to the bishop for African American congregations. North Street UMC ( entry January 19, 2009) is in the midst of probable transition --ConAgra has offered to purchase the building and buy land and build another church for the congregation at another Marshall location...about 20 or so attend in worship currently. It is an historic congregation, beginning in about 1872, is predominantly African American, and was excited (as I was) to have Rev. Cleaver there. He led a meeting for the church this afternoon, helping them to think about initial steps that are needed in order to do what is best for the church. We had a potluck and then Rev. Cleaver preached. A wonderful songstress from Second Baptist in Slater and her pianist really raised spirits and got us to moving. That's the woman with Rev. in the picture. And the North Street Choir sang, and it was all marvelous and uplifting. And Rev. Cleaver preached a very inspiring, heartfelt sermon.The pics are above. In the picture of him being met by one of the leaders of the congregation , Sam Moten, in the parking lot, all the buildings you can see in back of them, and the parking lot itself, belong to ConAgra. There are pics here of him leading the afternoon meeting with the church, and of some of what went on after worship. I believe that the North Street congregation was inspired and felt like they were being taken seriously by a very good and let's face it, famous man, who told them he is just a phone call away and that he will be working with them to get them to the next place, both building and ministry wise. I smiled a lot. It's so late that I am not going to spend much time editing...and I have a pastors' meeting at 10 in Liberty in the morning.

In Sight of Each Other

Today I was at Price Chopper on 103rd (my favorite grocery store) making the weekly trek to spend gobs of money on items that will be snorfed down by my family in a twinkling of an eye. I was back near the meat department when I heard four loud and confident men, who were having a good time just talking to each other, coming toward me (actually toward the meat.) It looked like they were trying to pick out meat to grill, though they weren't in much of a hurry--two were talking (somewhat loudly, but not obnoxiously so) about one brand of sausage that "sucks" (both agreed) and another two picking up one package of beef, putting it down, looking at another. These four men had on blue knit Polo shirts, though none of them, I would guess, ever played that particular sport. Instead of a pony, these four ride a big red truck, and had the words Kansas City Fire Department on hat and shirt.

I was reminded that several years ago that when I heard Fire Chief Smokey Dyer speak he said that firefighters on duty on the same truck are always supposed to be within sight of each other so that they will be able to respond quickly no matter where they are...they can get it together fast. They might be out playing basketball (thus the picture--although I don't think they usually have to be wearing full gear ;-}) ...they leave that in the truck. Today I debated (only about 10 seconds) about going over and asking these guys more about this. I spoke to one of the steak-handlers about this--saying, "I heard the Chief say one time that you guys in the unit have to be in sight of each other at all times...is that right?" He replied, "we're actually a company ma'am...but yeah, that's right...we keep an eye on each other and well, just take care of each other." I so much wanted to take these guys' picture, but really did not want to be remembered by that company as "that strange woman in Price Chopper wearing the Cardinals bucket hat."

Well, being the pastor and as a lover of the local church, I thought of the churches I know that exemplify that same togetherness---both ways.. They keep close so they'll be prepared to do what they are supposed to do---being the people who reach out to others, because they have the empowerment and accountability of each other. And also, to stay close so that they take care of each other, too. A church is not a church unless the members, sisters and brothers in Christ, want the very best for one another, express joy and appreciation for each others' unique gits and graces; and to still be there when brothers and sisters get very testy, impatient, angry, self-righteous, and just down-right awful to be around. Thank your Jesus for particular brothers and sisters who have been and are there for me, and for those all over my district who do keep each other in sight and take care of one another every single day.

Let us pray...

Nobody told me four and a half years ago that I would be praying with people (out loud) so much as a ds. Today, I think I prayed out loud (me saying the words) four times, which really does not sound that much to pastors who call on hospitalized folks and pray with them. To tell you the truth, I sort of had standard lines I would use on hospital calls--mind you, not the same prayers, but some of the same lines, and ones I hope I always said with truth and integrity. One I have often said at the bedside of someone injured or ill is "Lord give (name) the will to know the healing that only comes from you" for example. Most pastors, I think would own up to a few of this happening for them, as well.

The times I usually pray aloud now are before a one-on-one meeting with a pastor or lay person; before lunch when I am out a pastor or other church person (I think I always pray before a meal, but not aloud unless there is somebody else with me); and before meetings. At the beginning of my superintendency, I was fairly self conscious when I prayed, relying then on some of those more "stock prayers" which are handy sometimes in a pinch. I have gained more trust in myself, and in my Lord, in that as I begin a prayer now, I really try to stay in the moment of what is happening with that person across from me or the folks around the table, and try to express some of the joy, concern, fear, or confusion that is in that person, and in me as we begin.

Staying "in the moment" is really such a hard thing to do sometimes, when in private prayer or in praying aloud with another, my mind is racing forward to what will happen next: how will this person react when I share some of the things I must share; will this committee have the courage of its conviction in making some difficult decisions; and, what am I going to fix for dinner tonight?

It feels so right when the Spirit lets me stay in that moment, to pray what is in the depth of my heart, and through my empathetic spirit and my often times TOO intuitive sense, to try to speak the concerns of the heart of those with and for whom I pray.

Right now, I'm simply very grateful to have that opportunity to be in vocation that allows me into the hearts of persons in times of beginnings and endings (and in times of being in the middle of it too) and that I have the privilege of using my voice to speak to God who not only always listens, but forms the words that I say, when I am not quite sure how to pray. I am especially grateful when the Holy Spirit comes to give those sighs too deep for words when grief cannot be explained, when confusion would only lead to babbling if talk was attempted, and which comes when the hurt is so very deep that tears make it impossible to speak. I am grateful most of all that God entrusts me with people to pray for, and for knowledge that God is listening and all of my feeble prayers will be heard.

In my own little corner in my own little house...

...I can be whatever I want to be. That line is from Rodgers and Hammerstein's musical Cinderella written for TV. The corner of her own little house is really a chair by the fireplace, as seen in the picture on the right. Cinderella was televised in February of 1965. And I remember seeing it with my mother. I had anticipated that evening for many days and it did not disappoint. Funny, touching, and oh-so romantic to an 11 year old girl. I aspired to be Cinderella Lesley Ann Warren in lots of ways--to have an impossibly long neck a la Audrey Hepburn, to sing like a bird, and to have Stuart Damon--1965 style--find my shoe, find my house, and find my foot. Instead, I have a neck around which a clerical stole sometimes hangs; I have a choir-okay voice, but not for soloing, and there's been no man who has my shoe to come knocking at my door. At least I didn't hear him knocking if he did.
Here's the song from youtube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kX9JwQOtjU&feature=related

I do have something in common with this Cinderella though. I too have my own little corner in my own little house. It's my prayer place, on the lanai outside the sliding glass doors from my bedroom. When it is beautiful weather like it is today, I open up my glass doors and leave them that way, since screens are on the side that keep out the bugs (right side of pic.) I can also open the doors which are on the long hallway on the left of the photo--that long wall is all windows and sliding doors. Chairs, table, painting, lamp, yellow pillow are all from River Market Antiques. The quilt over the right chair is the small quilt that my mother made from scraps of fabric left over from clothes she had made for all of us. This was a gift to my dad to have to wrap up in on the couch. On the top of the table, today when I took this pic, were the leftovers from breakfast, a bible and a hymnal on top, along with the ever present three bright daisies. The bottom shelf of the table held these books: The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson; Applause of Heaven by Max Lucado; Preaching and Reading the Lectionary by D. Wesley Allen; Poetry as Spiritual Practice by Robert Howell; and The Song by Calvin Miller. On the floor next to the left chair, is a basket Cana made for a 4-H project 10 years ago, and under the right chair you will see our cat Danger's big behind. This space I show you feels holy to me; I pray there most every day and search the scripture. I remember poets from years ago and write some of my own poetry and think about blog entries. And I remember dresses my mother made me and the loveliness of the love my mother and father shared. It is a sacred place.

Do you have a place where you pray everyday? I try to pray in the car like lots of folks say they do, but my mind starts wandering because of all the stimulation around me. I sometimes pray before I get out of bed in the morning, but to be honest, part of the reason is so that I can lie in bed a little longer. This space outside my bedroom makes it for me.

I have begun asking my pastors when I have been visiting with them at their church, if they are praying everyday. They say yes, which is of course the RIGHT answer. Most all probably are praying every day, and are praying even at this moment, especially those who have waited to come up with a sermon until Saturday.

Do I ask them to pray because I want them to? Well, okay, yeah. But more importantly I want them to be attentive to their own little corner of their own hearts where that desire dwells to be with God, and to hear Jesus' words anew and to spill their guts before the Lord. We may never become just anything we want to be, as Cinderella sings, but we can become far more than we can ask or imagine by the grace of God. In my own little corner, that is my prayer today.

Reflection on John 6: 67-69 "To Whom Shall I Go?"

From the Gospel reading for Sunday:
"Jesus asked the twelve 'Do you also want to go away?' Simon Peter answered him 'Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy one of God.'" John 6: 67-69

To whom have I gone?
To whom shall I yet go?

To the entertainments that occupy mind and time
But entice away from the real and the sacred?

To the romance where there were always questions
about sincerity
When there was One who waited and asked that for only trust

To the people who thought me clever and bright
When the One who gave those gifts
Waited until they left, with their laughter and admiration
Leaving as they always do
And He said:
"As bright as you are-
However hard they listen and laugh
Please my child, come to me."

Where have I wandered away
Seeking on my own the joy I have desired, to find the
someone in whom to believe
Who would pour into my heart my life's meaning?

To whom can I go when my life frightens me, when I deny denial
And want no more to skate on the surface,
But instead to sink and fall and trust in....what? who?

Only in thee, my Lord
Do I keep finding
over and over
again and again
and forever and forever
My joy and my salvation

Keep me at your side, Lord
within arms reach of each other
For you to comfort and me to cling
For you to grab hold of and for me to touch your garment's hem
Close enough to laugh with
to look at
For you to see my faults up close
And me to see how truly Beautiful you are.

Your love is unfathonable, O Holy One of God.

I never want to flee
Let me always, Lord, walk with thee

Remembering Who We Are

First, a few pictures from the "Heartland Family Reunion" (District Picnic) last Friday night at Kearney First. The church has a great pavillioned picnic area, sand volleyball and basketball hoops. Several pks were there; we had about 70 in all attend. Picnic then music in the church. We had a good time! My hope is the family that is made up of the Heartland North pastoral families and our churches will continue to flourish this year. We, there at Kearney, were remembering who we are.


Sunday,I preached at Smith Chapel UMC, a church established MANY years ago (1824 for the origins of the congregation, 1857 for the first building), with a strong tradition of missions and a United Methodist Christian center. Their web page is really good: http://www.smithchapelumc.org. I really enjoyed the morning and lunch afterward. I was most fascinated (to the entertainment of the congregation) with their "offering boxes" which they are still using. This congregation remembers who it is not just from using items that have been used there from long ago, but by keeping alive the originating vision of this rural church-- Jesus Christ is the center of our lives. The altar and offering boxes:















And then there's my last name---I am having trouble remembering what it is. So I took the name tag from Friday night and put it on the console of my car. But like I said back on Aug 2 here, it really is that name "precious" we were given by God at baptism that is the one that will never change. Bishop Will Willimon (which still seems like an oxymoron to me) wrote a book many years ago on the meaning of baptism which is entitled "Remember Who You Are." He gets the title of the book from something that happened at his house when he was a teenager. On Saturday nights, as he went out the back door to meet up with friends or go on a date, his mother would call to him "William, remember who you are." She wasn't talking about his name of course, though some teenagers might need that encouragement as well if they took to illegally imbibing that evening. What his mother was saying was the he needed to remember that he was a Willimon, yes, but more importantly, that he was a Christian and not in name only. Remember, Will, there are some things we do and some things were don't do, but even more, there are things we are and some things we aren't when we are Christians--words like integrity, and kindness and self control, and fellowship in love, and keeping Jesus at the center of all we do.

I'll try to remember my last name, but I will try harder to remember Mama Willimon's advise--to remember who I truly am.

Breaking Bread Together

I have had the pleasure of eating out with colleagues and friends often over the last two weeks. Today I was at PotPie in Westport, my first time. And I had the Chicken nad Vegetable PotPie and it was so good!

Whomever I am eating with and I have paused for prayer before we ate. One day a few days ago, sitting in a pleasantly crowded large restaurant, as I began to pray aloud for us, I was suddenly filled with the heart-felt realization that there were people all around me---those two young men in ties over there guffawing away, that elderly couple down the row of booths who did not speak to each other at all, the five middle aged women at a table near by, the waiters---who might not have anyone praying for them that day. I don't know, maybe they did. But I tried say in words in that prayer what I sensed in my heart and I lifted a prayer for all in that restaurant, that they might sense God's love in the special ways that they needed it that day. Was there some way that I could indicate that Love toward them, not in some bombastic way, but in some other way...not sure exactly how, but a sincere smile can sometimes warm a heart (although I know there are some folks who don't want to be smiled at..I'm not sure what to do with them...)

Those nudges or fillings of the heart, are Spirit-given. I don't think that I will be seated in a restaurant for lunch again without looking up, looking around, and asking God to bless this particular bunch of folks, breaking bread along side me, and that somehow even in that very meal, in that breaking of the bread, they might recognize Christ in their midst and rejoice.