“ I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope” Psalm 130:5 What is waiting, besides you and me, in this time of isolation? Much has been written about what we will do when we are sprung! Haircuts, restaurant visits, gyms, hugs, jobs, in church worship, book group actual gatherings, ...just to name a few of the things for which we are waiting. But what is waiting for our attention differently; what have we learned? What is in the waiting? Is there a spirituality of waiting?   Waiting on God is a favorite topic for many mystics. It might be wondrous and contemplative. But during this time of Covid 19 waiting is more often than not connected to anxiety and fear. We wait for results, we wait for financial news, we wait for cures.   Much has been collapsed into the phrase, “I cannot wait to get back to normal!” To which I respond: Wait! What!? When confronted with this kind of waiting or any translation of waiting which aligns it with “normalcy”, I

With respect to the title for my new blog, some have asked: Why ‘Baptizing Imagination’? The short answer is I don’t know. The longer explanation comes from a contemplative moment. One day as I was sitting pondering these words in emails and sermons and now blog posts! which seemed to literally and forcefully be unleashed during the time of the pandemic, I found myself immensely grateful for baptism, immensely, and I found myself quite shaken almost terrified by the exposure of my imagination. And so one seemed to be a blessed assuring and consoling concept and the other a terrifying one because it had always been submerged in favor of traditional expected and previously approved actions and words. All of a sudden rational thought and self protection gave way to a contemplative mysterious yes . This was the opportunity which isolation and social distancing afforded me. I pray it is a holy opportunity. And then the active tense...baptizing. I believe we are always forming, alwa

FEAR by Khalil Gibran It is said that before entering the sea, a river trembles with fear. She looks back at the path she has travelled, from the peaks of the mountains, the long winding road crossing forests and villages. And in front of her, she sees an ocean so vast, that to enter there seems nothing more than to disappear forever. But there is no other way. The river cannot go back. Nobody can go back. To go back is impossible in existence. The river needs to take the risk of entering the ocean, because only then will fear disappear, because that's where the river will know it's not about disappearing into the ocean, but of becoming the ocean. I don’t know about you but this poem has been haunting me. I picked it up because of its title, fear, and I put it down with hope the size of an ocean. I picked it up again because of another poetic line which stirs me, every story is a story of water, and I put it down with a

I took the picture above on Saturday, the one beautiful day between what has been constant rain and dreariness, and I am not just talking about the weather! I took the picture because it reminds me of the day which was filled with sunshine and laughter, rest and refreshment, love and imagination. You see, those are not really chairs! Those are ships in the sea which our two granddaughters sailed through stormy water and even over ice (Frozen needs to be part of all play these days:). They navigated while my husband and I along with our son, daughter in law and sleeping baby tried to stay socially distanced. It really was like a dance at all times with some difficult moves and some stumbling, or grumbling. After all, no one gave us these dance lessons; we are improvising.   The day goes down as another story of the evocative power of water, even imaginary, as I agree with the poet who said every story is a story about water! Water actual or water metaphor all signifies the

In a time when it seems the very earth beneath us may not hold we still find ourselves in the season of Easter, the season in which we celebrate the Paschal Mystery, the season in which we are to know Joy!   We have emerged from the wilderness of our lives, knelt at the foot of the cross, somehow arrived at the empty tomb to discover with Mary and the disciples He is Risen. Alleluia However, this Easter in spite of the theological assurances and the resurrection joy made known in springtime, we cannot help but feel that we are still in Lent. Our wilderness experience of isolation and anxiety and just plain strangeness continues. How long dear Lord, How long! More than any other Easter in my memory I am tossed between the hebrew scriptures and the new testament hoping that the living God will rescue me and remind me and calm the seas. More than any Easter in my memory I feel more like the people of 2000 years ago still processing, doubting and spinning.   I have been th

“Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths or the turning inwards in prayer for five short minutes.” Etty Hillesum Saturdays have taken on that importance for me. It seems as though during the week while all is blending together I catch myself holding my breath. Saturday becomes a long exhale before the Sabbath. In particular I find myself more deeply in prayer and conversation with God just before the Sermon on Sunday. Because the world is changing so fast I no longer trust anything I write on Tuesday will even be relevant on Sunday. So it is with prayer. The collects always have meaning but tailoring the intercessions and spontaneous prayer has taken on new meaning and importance.   And so, just before we explore tomorrow the story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus and enter into that narrative differently than ever before, we pause and turn inward. Take two deep breaths and savor this by Hafiz as we prepare for our h

Joy unspeakable is always there. Unspeakable doesn’t mean nonexistent. Joy unspeakable may be so deep and so profound and so holy as to cause bodily reaction, shaking, quaking. Joy unspeakable becomes the recognition of something glorious which is so strong and courageous as to continue into perpetuity while sadness and setbacks fade or get folded in.   “And then there was joy - not necessarily happiness, a passing emotion - but joy, the quiet deep-seated conviction that one’s life makes sense.” (Joy Unspeakable the book) Residing within us, no indwelling us, is that Joy which comes in the morning, the Joy of Paschal Mystery dawn. It is not a dawn of chronology but a dawn of eternal dawns.   I am thinking that in this time when so little “makes sense” that to discover or rediscover joy unspeakable is to engage in a process of hope and meaning making. Our true selves are at the center of the process and so is God.   We go out from and return to joy each day. And again this mi

I  would like to share a story of joy unspeakable. It happened in the spring of 2008 as my husband and I sat in Chapin Hall at Williams College awaiting the seniors including our oldest son to enter for Baccalaurete. I have always thought this evening’s celebration couched in benediction and intimacy was more ‘meaningful’ than the coming graduation in its grand size and scope! So my anticipation was already heightened and my camera was poised.   All of a sudden the room hushed and a clear crystaline note was proclaimed and extended from up behind me. It came from a spot as far from the stage as one could get and thus inverted all ordinary focus. It expanded. It pierced. It contained urgency, joy and holiness. I searched the highest corner of the balcony and there was the source! The Imam was calling us to worship in a way I had not previously experienced, in a way which summoned complete attention and reverence. The voice calling in the wilderness. Divine Charism.   Tears co

Going deeper into relationship with God and God’s creation is saving me. Finding and embracing new rhythms, blurting bottled up thoughts and prayers because I cannot do otherwise, and resting, simply resting in wonder as I gaze at freedom is liberating me.   In Joy Unspeakable I am caught on the line:”that moment of mystical encounter when God tiptoes into the hush arbor, and whispers in our ears, ‘don’t forget, I taught you how to fly on a wing and a prayer, when you’re ready let’s go!’” All that holy education, not the law school, the PhD, or the divinity school, no the holy education when God and I sat in tutorials as I tried to figure out who I am and how I am. Those tutorials were apparently about flight!   And flight is about faith and freedom! Joy unspeakable is about remembering who and whose we are, in faith, and risking the step up and off the runway to fly!   We who are isolated or quarantined, we who are sick and suffering, we who are anxious or impatient, we h

Dear People of God: If you will indulge me just a couple more days, I may be able to put this poem down!?:) I keep spinning off into what Holmes calls the "Cosmos interwoven with mystery". In the third stanza concerning joy unspeakable for the Desert Mothers and Fathers, I became fixed on the phrase: "freedom from 'church' as usual" Joy and freedom are closely related. And while many of us are mourning our Sunday actual gatherings and certainly the loss of physical bread and wine being consecrated and placed into our hands and mouths, there is a certain joy unspeakable running beneath the surface which allows us the freedom to worship in new ways, new rhythms, new language. When time is suspended as it often seems to be these days, there might be an authenticity and genuineness about our worship which is being recovered. In that deep authenticity is a sense of the divine and a question which is something like the psalmist:  How can I praise God in th

In my Saturday post I had completely intended to buy myself a little time to write Sunday’s sermon. In fact I had what I thought was a “good one” going! I was to preach on our senses in addition to touch as employed by Thomas and how they are God given gifts, recognizing some of us have keener ones than others, which help us realize the Risen One in our midst. I was going to preach on how our senses turn doubt to faith. However, as the Spirit would have it, I could not seem to finish it and so I took my own advice, for once, and prayed with the poem Joy Unspeakable for complementary inspiration. Well, the rest as they say is history and my post from yesterday reveals the result. Whether it is good or not is less the point than that it is authentic and speaks directly to what is calling me these days and what I believe the Spirit hopes me to say! So I am going to dwell in Joy Unspeakable this week, as well as in the Word, and offer some reflections on these powerful phrases and

Blessed be God who animates our lives; blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled and unfading, kept in heaven for you who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.  You may recognize that benediction as the opening of Peter’s letter and the Epistle for this Sunday. It goes on to say, and these may be the critical words for today... Although you have not seen him, you love him;  and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for  you are receiving  the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls. I am tempted to repeat this and to emphasize the YOU ARE RECEIVING...present active happening tense! Please repeat it to yourself today many times... These