"Only"

I have a confession to make. I was scolded by a caller during my volunteer stint at the church.. It was actually at the end of the very first phone call I answered...what a way to start, huh? I was trying to locate some information for the woman on the phone, and I excused my slowness by saying "The regular secretary is on vacation; I'm only a volunteer, so please forgive me for being so slow." As we got ready to hang up, she said to me..."please don't ever say you're 'only' a volunteer; volunteers help run this country. Without them nothing would get done!" Point well taken! I've said almost the same thing to others when they demur "Oh, I'm not the doctor; I'm only a nurse" or "I'm not the principal; I'm only a teacher."

You are not an 'only' anything! Who knows what really important things God might be using you for? You're not 'only' a sign; you may be the sign God's using to point someone in a new direction. You are not 'only' a lay person; you could be the person God is using to make a stranger feel comfortable during first visit to your church. You are not 'only' a beginner Christian; the very first prayer from your lips might be the one that goes straight to God's heart to seal your life to Him forever.

And here's another 'only'  to think about....as a unique and awesome creation of God, what is it that 'only' you in all your uniqueness and beauty, a perfect creation made by the Father...what is it that 'only' you can give to the world?

Is God Pleased?

My moment to ponder from last Thursday's study group came not from our lengthy discussion about social justice issues, nor from our intense discourse as we continued to delve into the story of the Prodigal Son. It came as I listened to one of our members speak about her recent trip to Italy. As she talked about visiting museums, cathedrals, amd the duomos of Rome and the Vatican, she recalled that someone in her group asked: "Do you think that God is pleased with all this lavish show of wealth?" I was immediately transported back to 2005, my first trip to Paris. I went with an opinion...that wealth should be spent on caring for the poor rather than on ornate, ostentatious Gothic churches. I based this on a comment I remembered from deep in my childhood. My grandparents had just returned from a trip to Europe, and my grandmother exclaimed that the Vatican should be ashamed of its wealth and should be using it to help the poor Catholic people of Rome! As I sat in the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, I remembered this comment while I gasped in awe at the beauty around me. Was there value to the poor in this beautiful place? Was God pleased that money and time were spent to create this beauty? My opinion is that God absolutely is pleased when anyone creates beauty in His honor. Why else would He have blessed mankind with the ability to create? My opinion is that God is absolutely pleased that even the lowliest Parisian laborer had the opportunity to work for God's glory during the construction of places like Notre Dame and Ste. Chappelle. My opinion is that God is absolutely pleased that His church becomes common ground for all people, all sinners whether rich or poor, titled or anonymous. As I wrote in my travel journal on September 18, 2005:

"....it moved my soul. Suddenly I 'got it;' the epiphany of why these early churches were so lavish and overdone. This was the sanctuary of the poor, the one place they could come & not only see the beauty of God's creation, but also find His presence in their otherwise miserable lives of poverty, hard work, and suffering. And their alms and work helped make this glorious place. I see the Church as a buffer, a meeting place to tone down the excesses and extravagances of the wealthy and provide beauty and sanctuary for the poor. I felt moved and privileged to share this great cathedral with the countless souls, both rich and poor of Paris who have worshipped here since 1163. As the people came forward for Communion..... I thought of the thousands who have come before trodding the millenium-old tiles seeking forgiveness for transgressions common to all of God's people, rich or poor. In God's eyes---all are equal."

Yes, I think God is pleased whenever people create beauty in His honor. I think He is pleased when each gives of his time or talent or money to produce that beauty. Were there excesses and extravagances in the Church? Absolutely....that's what the Reformation was all about. But in Paris in the 12th  and 13th centuries, the Reformation was 300 years away; God was pleased.

Where Does This Path Lead?

As I spend time reflecting on images I receive, both mentally and through my camera, I'm struck by the ones that involve walking, paths, and feet. I even take photos of floors like this one that I took inside the Notre Dame de Beaulieu church in Cucuron. I love black and white design and the beautiful pattern of the tomette tiles intrigued me. What you can't see in this photo is the cool sheen of moisture on the floor. It was a very hot day outside, but the cool, dark interior of the church caused condensation on the tiles. This 'path' led from the heavy wooden doors in the back of the church up to the altar...very predictable. The paths in my life right now are not quite so predictable. As in this photo, they fade into the shadows, and I'm not quite sure where they lead. I think about the feet that have walked this tiled path...hundreds, maybe thousands over the years. Did they know where it was leading them, or like me, did they simply put their faith and trust in God and embrace the adventure of it all? Was their path smooth and cool like this one or filled with rocky obstacles and moments of hot, sweaty terror? Are there lessons for me to learn from their  feet, their journey?

Rocamadour

It's hard to avoid churches and pilgrimage sites when you visit France. Religion has played a huge part in the history of this country and is still an important part of its patrimony. This photo is from my visit to Rocamadour, a major pilgrimage site on the way to Santiago de la Compostela in Spain. Several of France's kings made pilgrimage to this holy place that has roots as far back as the 7th century. A pilgrim wishing to do penitence would ascend these stairs on his knees, praying the rosary at each step. There are 287 steps to the church of the Black Virgin at the top. I can only wince in imagined pain at the toll these steps took on the pilgrims' knees!

While there are many other churches in France that have a Black Virgin, the one at Rocamadour is one of the most famous. To me, she is also the most beautiful. The dim light in the church made it hard to get a good photo, but I hope you can appreciate how special she is. In some ways this trip feels like my pilgrimage. I'm still not sure exactly where this pilgrimage is leading me or just what God's plan is in all this sacred exploration and spiritual beauty. Maybe the early pilgrims weren't sure either. My prayer is that I, like them, can find my way to what God intends.

Montsegur

Help me understand....

This is Montsegur located in southwest France. It is a ruined Cathar stronghold that sits atop a pog. In 1243-44, 500 Cathar men, women and children were held at siege by the French army. Pope Innocent III decreed Cathars to be heretics and pressured the French king to assist him in destroying all Cathars in France. After almost 10 months, the besieged finally were overcome. The French demanded that they recant their heretical faith or be burned. 250 refused to recant and were burned on a huge pyre in the meadow marked by a memorial in the photo below. I climbed to the stronghold...a very difficult hike, but well worth it. The view from the top is magnificent, but loses some of its fascination when you consider that the people who were trapped here were this far above any help.

This is only one of the places that the burning happened. Eventually all the Cathars were eliminated. In fact, nothing remains of their faith except the writings of the Catholic church which explains why they were decreed heretics. Essentially they are people who rebelled against the excesses and exclusiveness of the Church. They did not believe in the Holy Eucharist, nor did they believe in infant baptism. They believed that the Bible should be written in the language of the people and made available to any believer, not just held in the hands of priests. The only sacrament they practiced was the consolamentum or laying on of hands to declare a person as a Good Man or Good Woman.

For these reasons, they were destroyed in the name of God.

Help me understand......

The Church in St. Cirq Lapopie

I'm frequently surprised by churches in France. An ancient facade can hold relics and art from the long distant past or it can open into a bright modern space. You just never know when you pull open the big wooden doors what you may find inside. The 15th century church in St. Cirq Lapopie was that kind of surprise. Instead of being dark and dim inside, it was white, airy, and open. The walls were still lined with tiny chapels devoted to different saints and the Holy Family, but each chapel had a unique, more modern style. I loved this one dedicated to the Virgin, a gem of blue niched into the white wall illuminated by votives.

Then stepping outside the Virgin's chapel, I'm thrilled by this very modern art installation...a tree leafed with stainless steel bicycle wheels . Reaching high up to the Romanesque vaulted ceiling, does it signify movement toward God? Living modernity growing from a dying world? Or fresh thoughts about religion rooted in the old, established tradition? Or is it....just art!

"Find My Church"

I'm counting down the days until I leave for a month's sojourn in France. I probably don't need to tell you that I'm excited about this trip. While in my heart, I shouted an immediate "YES!" to the opportunity to make the trip when it was presented in March, my mind had to think about it awhile. You know...figure out all the details, ponder the 'what ifs,' count the pennies, weigh the pros and cons. Yes, I wanted more than anything to have this adventure, and I also wanted some reassurance that it was the right thing to do as it could be (and I expect it will be!) a life-changing experience. Part of my spiritual practice is to spend some time every day in quiet time with God; time when I stop talking and instead listen for His direction. I do this on my drive into work. For several mornings I had talked with God about whether it really was the right thing to do, hoping that I would hear a big 'yes' from Him. Being in quiet time and merging onto I-35 from the St. Charles exit, this is what I heard..."Find my church." Loud and clear, not my words, but His. So I did. I will worship with the Anglican Community that I found in Cahors. I've emailed their church secretary; I'm told they welcome visitors. I have the schedule of services, and directions to the Catholic parish In Cahors where they meet. Their priest serves another parish as well, so Holy Eucharist is offered only every other Sunday. I have found God's church in the Lot.

Celtic Worship

Last Sunday evening Edith and I attended a Celtic worship service at her church, St. James. It was a small group, maybe 30-40 people, who gathered in this 1905 church built of beautiful creamy stone. The dark wood pews, paneling and arched beams set off the jewel-like stained glass windows of the Anglican-style church. It felt so peaceful and refreshing to listen to the harp play soft Celtic melodies. The liturgy was traditional Episcopalian, but the prayers were Celtic, much like this one:

MY SOUL'S HEALER
My soul's Healer,
Keep me at even,
Keep me at morning,
Keep me at noon,
On rough course faring,
Help and safeguard
My means this night.
I am tired, astray, and stumbling,
Shield me from snare and sin.

It was a lovely close to a wonderful weekend.

A New Tradition

I entered the church in the rapidly gathering dusk, a bit breathless after the rushed dash from work to arrive in time for the New Year's Eve service. Not being a party kind of New Year's celebrator, I was intrigued by the idea of welcoming the new year in a different way. The sanctuary lights were dimmed; all the altar candles flickered in the quiet church. The two tall trees flanking the altar were lit with their tiny white lights.A handful of people were scattered among the pews. I recognized everyone from the Saturday evening 'regulars.' Karen walked up and down the center aisle, lighting the candles held high overhead by tall, wooden candlesticks. I knelt and quieted my heart and mind to match the hush within the sanctuary. At the stroke of 5pm Elizabeth began the service which reminded me of a Christmas service of Lessons and Carols. Bible passages were read followed by a psalm or canticle, a prayer, and then a moment of quiet. The passages reflected God's instructions from the beginning...the Ten Commandments...to the end...verses from Revelations. Elizabeth's homily invited us to mark this time of transistion with the ritual of pausing to reflect on the past before moving into the future; to acknowledge the trials of 2008, as well as the possibilities of 2009; and to know that in life with God through Christ, we are blessed with grace no matter what the external circumstances are in the world. We took several minutes to reflect in silence what this meant to each of us. Although the silence was immense, almost palpable, it felt very warm and full of love as this small group joined in community to seek God's will for our lives. Since we were a small group, Elizabeth invited us to come forward together for the Holy Eucharist. We circled the table, and we each offered communion to our neighbor. It was a powerful expression of God's love. And a powerful way to end the old year before moving into the new. I hope to make this a New Year's tradition.

Holy Spirit

"Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in us the fire of your love."

I took this picture in a Paris church. I lit candles and whispered prayers for those I love more than once as I explored the churches of Paris. In St.-Germain-des-Pres I lit a candle to Ste. Anne and prayed for the well-being of my friend, Anne. I lit a tiny votive in Notre Dame and prayed for my family. What is it about lighting candles? I know that the Catholic Church has its own explanation for why Catholics do this, but why do I participate in this ritual so foreign to my Protestant upbringing? I believe the answer is in the Holy Spirit Prayer above: lighting a candle is symbolic of the Spirit's kindling the fire in my heart and expressing the love of God. As Bev said in her note: 'I pray that your experience at St. Timothy's has helped to kindle the fire of God's love in you.'

It has...amen.

How I Got From There to Here

Last Christmas I was talking with a friend about my need to read something light. I had just finished reading "The Innocent Man" by John Grisham, and although it was a really good book, it was also very tense and dark. She suggested that I try Jan Karon's "Mitford" books...so I did. And was immediately hooked! I read them all. One thing in every book that delighted me was Father Timothy's ability to pray so beautifully and eloquently. Maybe it was something about being Episcopalian??? I've shared that I've been on a spiritual search, and this seemed like a 'sign.' I Googled Episcopal churches in the central Iowa region and found 3 or 4 listed. But the one that caught my eye was St. Timothy's Episcopal Church in West Des Moines. The name plus the fact that they had 3 services spanning Saturday and Sunday appealed to me. I love having a choice. I made my first visit in March and have attended regularly since. I knew very little about Episcopalians before this year, but I can tell you that even though I've been a member of both Methodist and Presbyterian churches, this church feels like home. It totally makes sense to me. I love the traditions and liturgy; the people of the church community are geniunely friendly and hospitable; the church does good stuff in the community. It feels like home enough that I will be received by the Bishop into the church on Dec. 7th. Who knew a novel recommended by a friend would lead me to from 'there to here?'