some little gems from worship planning

I love this time of year. I get to sit at the piano with stacks of choral music and plan repertoire for the upcoming season. It can be a hit or miss process. Sometimes you find great texts with bad music, sometimes great music with a text that makes you cringe. And then there are the winners: the pieces that you know will sing themselves and whose text and music dance together perfectly.

Here’s an Advent text that I’ve fallen in love with, even though the musical setting by Craig Phillips is still growing on me.

“The Creator, the Wisdom of God draws near.
The mist of the prophet’s promise is dispersed.
Joy clears the skies, truth is resplendent,
the dark shadows are dispelled,
the gates of Eden are opened,
Adam dances in exultation:
Our Creator wills to fashion us anew.”
- from the Orthodox liturgy

I think we often miss Advent as a time of recreation. More and more I feel it as a season that invites us first into the waste and void before Creation – not a cheery or comfortable place for all you folks who love Christmas carols on the First Sunday of Advent! But as God’s creative, shaping breath – living Word and Wisdom – enters the world anew, we see the possibility of new life. We see that we indeed have access to Paradise, that our relationship with God is restored, and that God even wills to change our shape (that word refashioned really pulls at me), or even smooth some of the rough spots over.

Here’s another phenomenal music/text combination that jumped out at me. The text is by the amazing poet/preacher Thomas Troeger (see an earlier post about him) set to a gorgeous tune by K. Lee Scott. It’s published by Oxford University Press for those who might be interested.

“Too often God, your name is used to sanction hate and fear
so love and justice are refused to people you hold dear.
O never let us use your name to harm or hurt or kill
or consecrate a vicious aim as your almighty will.

But move through us in deeds that spell your name as Love and Light,
for faithful actions far excel beliefs that we recite.
Let naming you through how we live become our public creed:
the clearest witness we can give in meeting human need.

And keep us ready to receive the good that others do,
that helps expand what we believe and why we trust in you.
For where deep love and justice meet we see anew your face
and for a moment glimpse complete the world transformed by grace.

That vision opens wide the church to look beyond our walls,
to honor all who ask and search for where your spirit calls.
their questions and their wondering help us more fully claim
our mission as an offering that glorifies your name.”
-Thomas Troeger

I can’t say much more to that than a hearty, “Amen!”

being what you are

I have been enjoying an incredible time of vacation with my soulmate, Michael, who is visiting from Germany for several weeks. We are staying in a small cottage in Stonington Harbor, Maine which is at the eastern tip of Deer Isle. Though many towns in this area have become tourist destinations with lots of art galleries and bed and breakfasts, Stonington is still a viable fishing community. As a result, the place is humble and authentic; it isn’t trying to be something more than it is. I also love that my cell phone gets no reception here and the only public internet access in town is at the public library or a small restaurant. It is a much-needed change of pace.

The cozy little house we are staying in sits right over the water with a perfect view of the ocean and several islands that are close to the mainland. The days are much cooler than Manhattan (mid-70s during the day and low 60s at night) and there is almost always a gentle breeze that has the tangy smell of the sea. We are aware of the ebb and flow of the tide throughout the day and see the hard-working fishing and lobster boats scurrying about. We have a small but extremely functional kitchen so we have been cooking for ourselves most days and enjoying meals out on the dock. The menu has been homey and satisfying: potato and corn chowder, simple pasta dishes, native Maine blueberries, chicken piccatta (with lemon and capers), wine, German beer and even lobsters purchased straight from a fisherman on the pier.

We have kept active but not busy with lots of time for long walks and conversation. Wednesday we took a ferry out to Isle au Haut, where a portion of Acadia National Park is located. We hiked the southern part of the island, enjoyed a picnic lunch and took in the rugged coast and cobble beaches. I have also been rereading A Hidden Wholeness by Parker Palmer, which I first read back in January. It is one of those books that is powerful both in its simplicity and its depth.

Palmer’s writing and simply being in this beautiful place have helped me to see just how tired my soul has been from the past few months of transition. I have found myself sleeping deeply at night and even dreaming, waking up with the sunrise and feeling more connected to my body and emotions. I have cried more in the past week than I have in the past two years and it’s out of both intense joy and grief. The process of getting to New York City was graced in ways that I just can’t express. God has definitely been with me in this time and I am feeling like I am where I need to be. But it has taken a lot of emotional and spiritual energy to get grounded in a new place and I am still feeling the grief that comes leaving a place where I was deeply rooted.

So this week, I am grateful for the gifts of creation and soul friendship. Through them I feel that I am finding my way back to a sense of balance, wholeness and proportion in my life. Through a beautiful, natural space that invites me to breathe deeply and through a blessed relationship that invites me into deeper honesty and trust, I feel as if I am finding myself again. And this, Parker says, is where integrity is found.

“Jack pines…are not lumber trees [and they] won’t win many beauty contests either. But to me this valiant old tree, solitary on its own rocky point, is as beautiful as a living thing can be…in the calligraphy of its shape against the sky is written strength of character and perseverance, survival of wind, drought, heat, disease…In its silence it speaks of…wholeness…an integrity that comes from being what you are.” – Douglas Wood, Fawn Island (quoted by Parker Palmer in A Hidden Wholeness, pg. 3)