terrified

Posted on April 21, 2012 by emacaulay

I love the long ago disciples of Jesus. They spent a lot of time clueless and terrified.

And yet those bunglers are the best kind of teachers because in our lived solidarity with their ineptitude there is such hope.

Easter and Eastertide are such a wallop of emotional power. There is such despair and such hope and such desperate need to find something that makes sense that might be future-shaping and given the body-wriinging of crucifixion and resurrection and road walking, Jesus is so patient! When encountering the lot of them after his resurection, the first thing he says to them is “Peace”.

It seems he knows that while terror bound it’s near impossible to allow anything in.

I’m feeling such gratitude for the power of a Holy heart that knew that what is needed is a beat or two of peace. What he taught those disciples after he rustled up something to eat is that when we allow ourselves to be open to peace and to hope and to the good of unclenching, there is room for breath; deep and grounding and freeing breath.

I’m feeling a deep sort of compassion for the clench of the world. We all want, we all need, we all ache for peace and all along?

That peace is. One breath at a time.

both and

Posted on April 19, 2012 by emacaulay

In her poem “The Art of Blessing the Day”, poet Marge Piercy says:

“We must remember, pleasure is as real as pain”.

Last night Gloria Steinem enjoined those of us present for her presentation to tend to pleasure and joy and gratitude even as we work with all we have to change systems of oppression.

Pleasure is as real as pain.

For five days last week, I was immersed in pleasure. I spent time with three beloved clergy sisters in Portland, Oregon. We were there to savor the gift of deep friendship and we were there to play.

I woke up each morning giving thanks for the great good of not knowing what was on the agenda. I had space to savor and give thanks for the blast of joy that was Easter, as well as the deep worship of Holy Week. I celebrated the amazing beauty of the land and the wild goodness of being with kindreds in whose company tears of all varieties are shared. Laughter-induced pain is fantastic ache.

There is work to do, to be sure. I am not the most patient of people. There is so much pain in the world that gets doled out from human to human and yet, pleasure is as real as pain and I was in it.

Oh yes I was.

gloria steinem!

Posted on April 18, 2012 by emacaulay

I was in a room tonight with Gloria Steinem.

There were hundreds who gathered in St Louis Park to hear her speak about Feminism as the longest revolution.

“Tell the truth, and discover in the telling that you are not alone in that truth.”

“Infuse everything you do with the values you want to see realized.”

What was shared in the room full of hopeful and committed hearts was the conviction that the world longs for a better way of living in community. It can be brought into being, this way of living that honors differences and seeks the fullness of life for all.

It will be done through deep listening and a sense of reverence for the power that is our ability to see the sacred in all.

“The means are the ends.”

What was shared was a sense of compassion for all – men and women alike – who have been mangled by a “power over” way of living in community. It just doesn’t work. We know this to be true.

Instead, conversation by conversation, living the vision as we seek to birth the vision, we have the opportunity to live into a more fulsome way for all genders.

I want that for my daughters and for my son. I want that for the tender promise that is the future.

I want that for all.

Now would be good.

prep

Posted on April 10, 2012 by emacaulay

Leaving town is a spiritual practice.

Whenever I am making preparations to be gone for a time, the worries raise their voices.

For example, I seem to be convinced that if I am in close proximity to my beloveds I can keep them safe. It’s a fine fantasy. If I’m in my zone, somehow my people are safer.

Church details feel monumental. Our church has the best staff bar none and a wondrous crew of retired clergy. There should be no worry. Should is the operative word. Worry I do.

Like so many other things, I suspect thriving happens when space is made. Offspring turn to each other or their step-Coop. Pets are tended. Church folk know the power of community. All these things are good.

And for me? Stepping out of my self-appointed role of keeper of well-being is flat-out crucial.

I’m off for five days. Preparing to leave has lessons to lend.

Perhaps the spiritual discipline most necessary for digesting a magnificent Holy Week is the sacred revel of fun.

I can work with that.

team

Posted on April 4, 2012 by emacaulay

I was held by two churches in one day: both I have given my heart to.

I spent the afternoon in Duluth at the funeral of a beloved spiritual guru. Armas was 95 when he died. The place was packed with huge hearted people who came to give thanks for the ways he breathed questions and spark in the world he so loved.

In the front row was his Men’s Bible Study group. In the congregation were people who had shared the work loves of his life: justice making, question asking, meaning making and savoring. His heart team was there to name his glory and give God thanks for the privilege of sharing life with him.

I motored back to Minneapolis for two church meetings. Around each meeting table were members of teams (in church speak, we call them committees) who give their time and their hearts in order that ministry can happen. We are varied in opinion and sensibilities, but we are woven together in order to set the stage for transformation.

It is no small thing, this being a part of a team.

Tonight I am full of wonder and gratitude. Paying tribute to a man who knew the need for community, followed by encounters with circles of folk who live that need in order to share it.

It was good. It is good.

hard work

Posted on March 31, 2012 by emacaulay

Palm Sunday is a lot of work.

I don’t mean planning for it or soaking in the wild good of children processing with palms waving.

I mean it is hard emotional work, because it is so very real.

We begin worship singing the wild hopes of the gathered – now and then. Surely this Jesus will save us. We join in the singing of “Hosannas” and feel ourselves swept into the shout of it.

And then the rest of the story commences. The part about betrayals and silencing. The part about the slinking away of the hopeful and the firing up of the machine of fear prompting the very ones who shouted hope to shout death.

It’s hard work.

Because it is so real.

Newspapers are packed full of this drama as it unfolds day after day after day. We want our President, our mothers, our please-God-SOMEBODY to save us when all along the answer to our heart clamor can be found within and among us.

A figurehead who does all our work for us will never save us.

Jesus came to teach us a new way, a way grounded in the hard work of lived compassion and justice through our very selves and we seemed then and seem now to prefer that he would do the work for us. The work seems too hard.

It is. But we’re not alone in it. The power and presence that took to the back of a donkey is in our midst yet.

Oh, may we be a people who take to our hearts and actions the living of “Hosanna”.

The world is sore in need of a break from “Crucify”.

reverence

Posted on March 28, 2012 by emacaulay

This morning as the sacrament of holy coffee was enjoyed, I was serenaded by a male cardinal.

Amazing grace, for sure.

Here is what I know: Spring is a heart leap sometimes too wild to contain.

I’m not sure how to thank the cardinal for his song, but I suspect is has a lot to do with ensuring that the world is safe for such as he.

Sometimes we are plain foolish enough to forget to stop and gape in wonder at the world we are blessed to tend. This organic thing that is alive and nurtures our souls and bodies ought be at the top of our reverence list.

Creation holds us each. How in turn will we live in this world in order that cardinals sing to our great great grandchildren?

Noticing beauty is a first step. Pausing to give thanks follows close behind. And then? Then we practice the teachings of our faith which have nothing to do with subduing but everything to do with encountering the earth as God’s Body (Sallie McFague’s naming of creation).

Thanks be to the Body.

circles of life

Posted on March 28, 2012 by emacaulay

I spent the day with United Methodist clergy from throughout the state.

The goal? The goal was to celebrate the powerful call we share. We named our grinches and glories, and re-membered the sense of wonder and promise that is sharing the gospel.

It was flat-out fun as well as soul tonic.

Tonight, I got an email from a friend. She wrote to tell me that for some reason over the past few days I had popped into her mind as she was in prayer. She wrote to tell me that she had been praying for me.

Some times the slogging gets thick, doesn’t it? We get bogged into a sense of the immense of what we seek to midwife, no matter what it is we are called to do. Work commences, the days pass, and somewhere along the way the sacred juice that is joy gets parched out of us.

And then we get reminded that we are blessed blessed blessed. The circles of love that hold our hearts and lives are alive and vibrant and present, slog or no.

full

Posted on March 22, 2012 by emacaulay

My head and heart are full.

My head is full of fluids intent on silencing my world. I’m on the second go-round of antibiotics for ear infections. So it goes. It’s brought to my heart a whole new compassion for those with hearing loss. Restaurants are brutal, as is any place where ambient noise reigns supreme. Reality feels swaddled. I’m learning new things.

And my heart? My heart is full of wonder. Love is an amazing force for healing. At my uncle’s funeral, the pain and joy that comes with family and loving was named, the holding of story was shared, and the power of healing and gratitude was passed from heart to heart. I share family with an amazing crew of varied explorers. From grandparents Keith and Helen came four children full of soul and zest and they made families and together we each hold a piece of our shared story. It’s a wonder.

Church too is a coming together of each of our stories. When we gather to name our dependence upon and grounding in the Holy, we swirl our beings into a weave of remarkable strength. Each of our bumps is held, each of our triumphs is present, and our questions and wisdom conspire to lead us into the story larger than our own in order that we might know it to be our own.

How wonder-full is that?

cozy

Posted on March 20, 2012 by emacaulay

Thunder is rumbling.

My dog is glued to my leg.

The house is buttoned up. Candles are lit.

There is something about the first thunderstorm of the year (in March?!) that brings back body memories of summers gone by. Usually I hear the rumbles and rain and am transported to the cabin, where I spent most of my summers growing up.

The sound of rain on the roof of the cabin or the bunkhouse was and is some of the finest music I know. Rain meant cards and books and nesting.

So tonight, Zoe and I will follow time-honored tradition.

Living Waters

Celebrating the Sacred