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I’m not ashamed to say
that I woke up at 5:15 am on Friday to watch the royal wedding. For
anyone interested in plumbing the socio-political imagination of the
British this was a must see event.
Leading a church that isn’t a “church,” doesn’t meet regularly, and
has a loose version of itself is all rather tricky. It’s also a lot of
fun. I’m four weeks into my position at Mission Developer with The Project F-M,
and I’m discovering new joys and challenges each day.
Easter brings with it an abundance of natural joy and reason for
celebration. The love of God poured out for us through the Incarnation,
the life, the death and now the resurrection, which today we
commemorate, of Jesus of Nazareth is made known in the most powerful
ways.
Jesus Christ is rightly regarded as the most important person for
helping us understand love. Especially at this time of year, it seems
wise to ponder the love of Jesus.
Interesting
conversation in our Tuesday morning lectionary group. It began with the
usual quandary about how best to preach to those who come only once or twice a
year. One of our group enthused about how when they hear that Jesus rose from
the dead it will, or at least can, change their lives forever. He's seen
it happen.
Holy Week and Easter are matched only by Advent and Christmas as
prime times of the Christian year for showcasing choral singing. This
has me thinking about church choirs generally–what are they for and who
should sing in them?
I spent last night curled around my toddler, bowl in hand, waiting
for her to wake and vomit again. She had a miserable case of food
poisoning that kept us both in and out of sleep until the morning.
I was thinking about relaying this episode to a seminary friend who
recently asked me to “sell” him on the idea of children.
So, I’ve finally read Rob Bell’s Love Wins
and am working on a review. When I think about all the controversy
surrounding the book, I wish more people had a chance to take a study
seminar I took while studying at Regent College.
One
of the funny sidelights of owning a chiminea (and Facebooking about
making fires in it on a frequent basis) is that I have kind of become
the "Parish incinerator for holy objects." Things like slightly
"off-smelling" chrism, leftover blessed palm fronds, or worn out
corporals or altar linens seem to find their way into my chiminea to be
burned. I think part of it is folks in my parish know I love to burn
stuff, and they also know my fire-sitting spot is, at least to me, a
holy space.