Monday Morning Musing

Several weeks ago, I was waiting for a friend in the parking lot of a large store. It was a very windy day, and I watched people literally "hang onto their hats" as they left the building. Shopping carts, having minds of their own, were blown into the back bumpers of cars. I noticed a family with three or four small children come out of the building. Mom was holding a baby in one arm, and a small child was holding on tightly to her other hand. Dad was pushing a shopping cart while hanging on tightly to six large helium filled balloons. Next to dad, a boy of five or six watched the balloons with great interest. Suddenly, a big gust of wind blew across the parking lot and one of the balloons broke free and floated up into the sky. At first, the young boy started screaming and seemed distraught as dad tried to comfort him. Eventually, the boy calmed down and the two of them stared up into the sky and pointed at the balloon. They watched intently as it went higher and higher, eventually disappearing. 

I watched the two of them as the initial disappointment of losing one balloon was quickly forgotten by the wonder of watching it fly away. This week, many churches will celebrate the Ascension, when Jesus, after his death and resurrection, is carried by God back to heaven. In Acts 1, it says, "Jesus was lifted up and a cloud took him out of their sight." They too, just like the young child who was first upset when his balloon disappeared into the sky, were not sure what to make of things. Of course, those watching Jesus ascend encountered two people in white robes who asked them, "Why are you standing here, looking toward heaven?"

My prayer for us this week is that we take a few moments to ponder the mystery of Jesus ascending to the heavens. However, then we must heed the advice of those who asked, "why are you standing here?" Afterall, with so many people in this world still suffering from hunger, loneliness, and war, it is time we stop standing around bickering with each other and get to work loving and caring for those in need in the same way Jesus loves and cares for us. 

Last month, I received a message on Facebook inviting me to a concert by the Victory Chorus in Duluth, Minnesota. Normally, I do not pay much attention to announcements over Facebook, but because this came from a friend, I checked "interested."  On Saturday, I received another email invitation, so Sunday after church, a bit tired, I headed to Duluth not knowing what to expect. As people were arriving, the choir was warming up. The room was filled not only with friends and family, but beautiful music, love, and positive energy. In a brochure is this statement: 

“The Victory Chorus provides a safe, loving, and supportive space that welcomes people living with dementia to engage in their community, build connections, use their gifts, and experience JOY.”

Indeed! The preconcert music, including a wonderful rendition of “You are My Sunshine,” set the stage for a fantastic afternoon of music making, community connection, and breaking down stigmas and barriers that often isolate those grappling with dementia from their families and other loved ones. The choir was intergenerational, included sisters singing with brothers, and those living with dementia sitting next to those who walk with them. I was inspired by my friend who directs the choir. Not only her fingers, but her whole body came alive as she led the choir through their selections.

As I drove home, I felt like I had just encountered the Holy Spirit at a charismatic revival! My prayer is that all our worship gatherings can also be safe, loving, and supportive spaces that welcome all people so we can engage community, build connections, use our gifts, and most importantly, experience JOY! Afterall, Jesus calls us to proclaim “Good News!” and to share with others the joy of the Gospel.

Is there anything more beautiful than the greening of aspen in the spring?  The naked forests are beginning to don new spring dress making that which looked dead come alive. Even the mountain ash I planted last fall in my yard is starting to have buds, and the tamarack are giving a hint that they will soon join the party. Goldfinches really look gold, and the groundhog across the highway seems no longer scared of his shadow. 

This morning, I took the last of the sunflower seeds and put them in feeders. I glanced at all of the seeds on the ground underneath the feeders and noticed that some of the seeds have self-planted themselves and have germinated. In burying themselves, they have found new life. I am not sure how many will survive, but I am certain some will, because each year sunflowers bloom in my yard despite never planting them myself. 

I have discovered that in my driving to churches the past several years, it is in the wonder of the north woods where I most profoundly experience death and resurrection. However, I have come to realize that creation is teaching me that just like the sunflower seed must die to self in order to experience new life, I too must die into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Chirst so I may also be transformed and have eternal life with Christ. My prayer this week is that we not confine ourselves to discovering the Risen Christ in buildings on the weekend, but rather, experience resurrection right outside the front steps of our homes. 

Birds are everywhere! Last night, I slept in the spare room because my bed was piled high with stuff. Near the window is a tall arborvitae. Often, there are chickadees or sparrows that hang out in its dense foliage, but this morning I was awakened by the raucous songs of two crows. I am certain their mission was to see which one could roust me from my bed. Mission accomplished. I bounded down the stairs to turn on the coffee pot, when I noticed five or six robins in the lawn just outside the kitchen window. Pigeons were underneath the feeders picking up what the goldfinches were dropping. 

Yesterday, in my early morning pilgrimage to Finlayson and Moose Lake, I encountered swans, geese, and ducks of all sorts on lakes and in ditches. Pairs of sandhill cranes have returned to fields, and turkeys are everywhere, one nearly becoming a hood ornament. Juncos were gathering along the road while high in the sky turkey vultures circled above the treetops. . 

In the past few days, I have noticed birds gathering with other birds. Their songs, some sweet, some shrill, some loud, some soft, make a joyful noise that not only pleases me, but certainly must be pleasing to God. My prayer this week is that we continue to gather with at least one other person and lift our voices in praise to God. 

Cry out with joy to God all the earth, 

O sing to the Glory of God's name.

O render God glorious praise. 

Say to God: How tremendous are your deeds. 

Psalm 64 vs. 1-3

This weekend, while sharing a  short lesson to children at both the Cromwell United Methodist Church and Hill City United Methodist Church, I asked them to look around the church to see if they could see Jesus. In HIll City, one child quickly pointed to a large picture of Jesus on the back wall. I chuckled, because  I had forgotten the picture was there!  Another child pointed to the cross draped in white cloth. She commented that those must have been the linens left in the tomb when Mary found it empty. All I could think was that this child had really been listening to readings on Easter Sunday! In Cromwell, with the help of a very astute parent in the back pew, the kids shared how we can see Jesus' presence when everyone gathers for worship.

As the discussion was winding down, I asked the children in Hill City how we know when Jesus is present in each of us. One of the youngest in the group turned around to her father sitting nearby. He was making a heart sign with his hands. She smiled, and turned to me and whispered softly the word "love." The children from both churches seemed to have a better handle on how Jesus is present in the world than many of us adults. With so much chaos in the world today, endless wars and hate-filled speech, maybe it is time we listen to the wisdom of children who share during a Sunday school lesson at church. 

I realize it is Thursday. I also know that I am  a bit late with musings. To be honest, I have spent the last four days searching for my Easter Basket and completely lost track of  time. Fortunately, I found the basket this morning on the back steps. Sadly,  it was empty. Inside the basket was a note that told me to read Mark 16: 1-8.

I should not complain. Afterall, since Mary Magdalene, Mary, mother of James, and Salome were told not to worry when they found an empty tomb, I should not be disappointed with an empty Easter basket.

He has risen!  He has risen indeed!

Better late than never! This morning I jumped out of bed, bounded down the stairs, and immediately went into the living room to pull back the drapes. I wanted to see the snow!  Afterall, there has been so little this winter I almost forgot what it looks like. Yesterday was Palm Sunday and the church began pulling back the drapes on Jesus' walk to the cross. 

Today, many folks are staying at home because of the winter storm. My prayer is that we take advantage of this day or two of slowing down and take and make time to reflect on the gravity of what Jesus suffering on the cross means for us. In a world so full of chaos, a walk with Jesus might help us all find ways to be more kind and forgiving to our neighbors just as Jesus was towards us. 

Some folks know there are two things I do not own; an alarm clock and a comb. Naturally, as we moved our clocks ahead one hour this past Sunday, there was some concern by a few friends about whether  I would get up in time to get to church and then, in my haste to get out the door, would I be groomed appropriately to fulfil my pastoral obligations. I am happy to report that I did get up plenty early and I looked no better, no worse, than any other Sunday. However,  the change in time meant the first hour of my journey to Finlayson was in complete darkness. It was not until I got to McGregor that I began to see the light and then I literally began singing, 

"I saw the light, I saw the light
No more darkness, no more night
Now I'm so happy, no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord, I saw the light."

Not totally clear headed, I struggled to remember the words to the first first. After a quick gulp of coffee, they flowed out of my mouth like the Jordan River.

I wandered so aimless, life filled with sin
I wouldn't let my dear Savior in
Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night
Praise the Lord, I saw the light.

Ironically, I think Hank Williams and John's Gospel  have a lot in common. John wrote, "But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God." (John 3:21)  My prayer this week is that in our comings and goings, whether we are early or late,  and regardless of our physical appearance, we recognize that Jesus is the light! May the light of Christ shine brightly to help in the transformation of the world.

What a difference a year makes. Last year, the snow kept falling, and my snowblower was my best friend. There were many mornings I was blowing snow even before I had my morning cup of coffee. This year, the snowblower has only been put into action three times.  The other day, I was pretty certain my little red Toro snowblower cursed me when I jumped into my car instead of wheeling him out onto the driveway. Furthermore, last spring I remember how the ditches, creeks, and fields swelled with the snow melt. This year, because we have little to no snow, they are nearly dry. Migrating water birds have fewer choices to take rest on their return north. 

Water is essential for all life. Our bodies require water, as do all plants and animals, in order to  survive. If the forests of northern Minnesota do not receive rain or snow soon, the risk of a catastrophic forest fire will remain high, and the potential destruction to our beloved ecosystems unimaginable. Already, there has been an increase in the number of small fires in our ditches.

Of course, water is also important to the life of the Church. There are numerous references to water in both the Old and New Testaments. God instructed Moses to strike the rock at Horeb, and then water flowed so the people could drink. In Acts 8, the Ethiopian eunuch instructed the chariot to stop at a body of water where he asked Philip, "See, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized?" Of course, in Matthew 28: 19-20, Jesus says, "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." 

This week, as we pray for much needed rain and and snow for our beautiful forests, may we also pray that the fonts in our church will also be filled with water. In this way, those thirsty for new life in Jesus Christ will be refreshed through the waters of baptism.

Recently, I was playing a game of kickball with eleven kids and several adults in the parking lot of Hill City United Methodist Church. The ages of the young people were from five to seventeen, but most were in third and fourth grade. As the youngest of the group kicked the ball gently past the pitcher, it became clear that the child did not understand how the game was played.  Immediately, an adult went to his side and together they made a dash to first base. The third grader who had picked up the ball could easily have gotten them out at first, but pretended not to be able to get there in time. When asked by a teammate why he did not get him out he said, "He is just learning to play the game so we need to help him."  Oftentimes, third graders understand Jesus' message better than adults.

On Thursday, I had the pleasure of participating in two worship services -- one at the Villa Vista in Cromwell and the other at Moose Lake Village in Moose Lake. As folks gathered to sing hymns, break open scripture, and pray for not only their needs, but the needs for the world, I witnessed the wonderful care given to the residents by the staff and volunteers in both locations. I was overjoyed with the concern residents had for each other, not to mention their kindness to me. 

In Mark's Gospel this week, we heard Jesus say, "If any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."  Sometimes picking up one's cross is best expressed in ordinary actions.  Being kind to someone who needs a bit of extra help to play a game of kickball or helping transport someone to a worship service whether by car or wheelchair are simple ways to pick up one's cross to follow Jesus. My prayer this week is that we treat those around us with kindness in ordinary ways with the knowledge that the results may lead to something extraordinary.

Several years ago, I put up three bird feeders with the hope that they would attract cardinals, chickadees, and grosbeaks. More recently, I even planted a 12 foot high mountain ash near the feeders so they could provide a perch near the feeders. Finally, this winter the bird feeders are a hub activity. Saturday morning, I replenished two of the smaller feeders and then left town for the day. When I returned in the evening, the feeders were practically empty. I am happy to report that this winter, and despite the lack of snow, birds are a daily sight at my feeders.

Of course, I have only seen a few chickadees and there have been no cardinals or nuthatches. My most frequent guests have been goldfinches and eight or nine pigeons that sit under the feeder picking up what has been dropped to the ground. At first, I was a little disappointed at not seeing a cardinal and I have missed the black capped chickadee. However, over the course of the winter, I have enjoyed the goldfinches. Even now, the feathers of the male are beginning to change to a vibrant yellow. This transformation is quite stunning to watch and I am grateful to the goldfinch.

In many ways, the church is also like a bird feeder. Just like I must make sure there is always bird seed in my feeder, the church must also provide food, spiritual and real, so folks will flock to our table. And just like I never know which birds will come to my feeder, the church should also be prepared for the unexpected guests, welcoming all who come through their doors. Finally, just like goldfinches are transformed throughout the winter months, our churches must also be a place where people can be transformed by the love of Jesus Christ. 

I received my first Valentine's gift on Sunday morning. As I greeted people entering church, a young girl said "Happy Valentine's Day" and handed me a chocolate heart wrapped in bright red foil. I returned the greeting, we both smiled, and as she walked away I unwrapped the chocolate and promptly popped in my mouth. Later in the morning, at luncheon after service in Moose Lake, I enjoyed a nice piece of red velvet cake. Once home, I opened some mail and there was a Valentine from an old friend. On the cover was a big heart and the familiar phrase, "Won't you be my Valentine?"

It is interesting that this year Valentine's Day and Ash Wednesday are both being celebrated on the same Wednesday in February. We might think these two events have nothing in common. Afterall, Valentine's Day is associated with love and Ash Wednesday marks the start of Lent, a time of repentance, fasting,  and reflection. However, isn't it the fact that  God so loved the world that he sent Jesus the ultimate expression of love?

Today, we live in a world torn apart by war, the demonizing of those who may hold opposing religious or political views, and an absence of compassion for the most vulnerable in society. Maybe what the world really needs is the intersection of Valentine's Day and Ash Wednesday so we can learn to love each other more deeply and without judgement. Afterall, the chocolate heart I recieved from a young person walking into church was graciously given without condition. My prayer this week is that as we put ashes on our forward reminding us to turn towards God, we also turn to our neighbor and love them as Jesus loves us. 

 On Sunday morning, I watched a red fox dash across the road. I slowed down to see if I could get a better look. Spotting him, we had a staring contest before he scampered into the woods. Just a few miles north of Hll City, I saw several crows sharing communion as they gathered around the carcass of a deer. They hardly noticed me as I passed. In all  of my travels this week, juncos, jays, and chickadees can be seen, some along roadsides and some in barren bushes. Hawks and owls, perched on dead trees, keep vigil for voles, mice, and other furry appetizers. 

Fortunately, communion and community greets me each time I step into the warm sanctuaries of Moose Lake, Hill City, and Cromwell United Methodist Churches.  However, as  I wake up this morning and begin to map out my week, I realize that the presence of God is found not just in my destination, but is revealed even more so in the journey.

Next Sunday, we will pray Psalm 111. "Praise the Lord! I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart, in the company of the upright, in the congregation. Great are the works of the Lord, studied by all who delight in them."  In reflection, I have come to realize the fox, the birds, and even the carcass of the deer are all part of our congregation. My prayer this week is that in our comings and goings, we see all of Creation as members of our congregations and we avail ourselves of God's presence in the journey and not just the destination. 

Sunday afternoon, I noticed a goldfinch nestled in one of the feeders hanging outside my window. When I opened the curtains, she glared at me. As she flew away, I realized there were no seeds in the feeder. I went to the old kettle where I keep the seeds and realized it was almost empty. I poured the last cupful into the feeder, and within a few minutes, the solitary goldfinch returned. All alone, she stayed in the feeder for most of the afternoon, except for the rabbit who would appear periodically to gather up what dropped. 

This morning, I poured myself a cup of hot coffee and once again pulled back the curtains to look at the feeder. To my surprise, there were two birds nestled in the feeder and two rabbits underneath enjoying what fell to the ground. Once again, I noticed the feeder was almost empty, so soon I will go into town to buy more seeds. In many ways, my encounter with the goldfinches reminds me of the Gospel passage we read on Sunday. In John 1: 43-51, Philip encounters Jesus and in his excitement rushes to Nathanial to invite him to join him in following Jesus. Nathaniel is skeptical, but Philip tells Nathanial to "Come and See."  Eventually, Jesus arrives and Nathaniel believes and does follow Jesus.

My prayer this week is that our churches model themselves after bird feeders. After all, just like bird feeders require us to provide seeds so birds will not only come and see but also come and eat, our churches should also be places where we  provide food so all can be well-fed. Our churches, like feeders, should be available to all, both the eager like Philip as well as those more skeptical like Nathaniel.

It seemed like just yesterday that we were decorating churches, hanging outdoor lights, and gorging ourselves on Christmas goodies. This past weekend, as the Christmas season  concluded with Magi arriving at the manger to encounter the Christ child, we have literally begun putting Christmas into boxes and large tupperware containers. I was amazed as I watched a beautifully decorated artificial tree collapse at the push of several buttons and then seek shelter in a large cardboard box. Although this tree is not a living organism like my beloved dahlia bulbs, rest assured, it will spring back into action and be all ready to go next December, much like the dahlias do each spring when I take them out of darkness and bring them into the light of spring. 

As we put away Christmas, I found comfort this week when I witnessed  Christ  being revealed in the life of the church after Christmas. In Moose Lake, the church hosted another congregation whose activities were disrupted after a flood in their sanctuary and fellowship hall. In Cromwell, despite slippery roads, folks still gathered to reaffirm their baptism and share in the open table. Last evening, I had a zoom meeting with some Hill City youth preparing for confirmation. As we reviewed John 1: 43-51, shared some contemporary music, and discussed a future pancake breakfast, I was inspired by their wisdom and deep concern for each other and for the world around them.

My prayer this week is that even though we put our Christmass trees, decorations, and lights into boxes until next year, we do not put Jesus into a box for safe storage. Our task is to diligently find new ways to share his love with the world. In this way, maybe peace can replace war, kindness can replace cruelty, and empathy can replace apathy

 Happy New Year!

At midnight, I was fast asleep in an old chair wrapped in a well worn blanket. No champagne, no noise makers, just the sound of the tv playing reruns of Star Trek. Eventually, I made my way up the stairs, hummed a few bars of Auld Lang Syne, and in the comfort of my own bed, drifted off to sleep. This is really no different than most nights. 

As I bounded down the stairs at 8:00am, I headed out the door to meet friends for breakfast. After several cups of coffee, a wild rice omelette, and good conversation, I rejoiced in the ordinariness of this day. After breakfast, I returned home and realized I needed to put my house in order. Laundry was in the dryer, papers covered the table, and the counter was full of dirty dishes. The busyness of Christmas has left its mark.

Next Sunday, we will read Genesis 1:1-5 which begins, "When God began to create the heavens and the earth, the earth was in complete chaos and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light."  My prayer for the New Year is that in the chaos of our lives, we will return to the order and ordinariness God provides by welcoming the light of Jesus into our lives.

 Merry Christmas!

I came down the steps early this morning and paused at the 1924 Christmas plate hanging on the wall. In this scene, a person in a small rowboat surrounded by floating ice is making their way to a lighthouse in the distance. Without the light coming from the beacon, there would be no way for the person to avoid the ice and find their way to safety.

As we gather around dinner tables, fireplaces, and fishouses, let us give thanks to God for sending us Jesus Christ, the light of the world. I am grateful to the folks at Hill City, Cromwell, and Moose Lake United Methodist Churches. Afterall, just like a star led travelers to give homage to a newborn in a manger, and lighthouses help those at sea to avoid danger, each time I travel to you, I find comfort knowing  the church lights are still on to welcome me. My prayer is that our churches continue to be beacons of light for all travelers seeking refuge, welcoming them with the love and peace of Jesus Christ.

Merry Christmas!

I woke up in the middle of the night, ambled down the stairs, and sat in a comfortable chair in my living room. I wrapped myself in a warm blanket and placed my feet on a hassock. I glanced at the wall where one hundred Bing and Grondahl Christmas plates from the years 1900-2000 are hanging. These plates were not something I would have ever considered purchasing, but were handed down to me from my aunts and mother. As I looked intently at the blue porcelain plates, I realised each plate told a different story about Christmas. 

The plate for 1909 depicts a small boy sitting in front of a Christmas tree on Christmas Eve and reminds me of myself, impatiently waiting for the time when we would open gifts after Christmas Eve dinner.  In the plate for 1913, a man is carrying a freshly cut tree down a snowy path through the woods. This image reminds me of the trees my dad would cut to be placed in our living room each year.  The plate from 1926 is a family walking on their way to church on Christmas Eve. The church is well lit and a bright star shines in the distant sky. I could go on, but I think you get the picture!

As we eagerly anticipate Christmas, we must walk through the darkest days of winter. In our journey, my prayer is that we can find comfort in the images we hold on to from Christmasses past. And yet even in the darkness, we find great hope that the light of Jesus Christ awaits us at the end of our Advent journey.