Reflecting on a Dream

Tomorrow I head to the coast for a discernment retreat with a very dear friend of mine.  This evening, as the last bits of light from the daylight slowly fade and the shadows of nightfall once again cover the land, I have found myself pawing through my journal pages.  What might the Spirit might illuminate for me to ruminate upon?

This entry leaps off the page into my psyche.  This is what my spirit is swirling over this evening...

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Sunday, the 17th of March, 7:15 p.m. -- Today I presided at The Lord's Table for the first time.  I am very blessed to be in a church where "the priesthood of all believers" is not just theory but praxis.  This beautiful congregation at Murrayhills Christian has blessed me beyond belief.

First Day Presiding - 17 March 2013 - Photo by Matthew Wynne

I have dreamed of this day since I was three.  Very few dreams stick with us persistently for that long.  This dream, and visions of myself as pastor, have gone through ebbs and flows of urgency over the years.  Certain aspects, (like pay, setting, denomination, location) have gone through significant transformation over the years -- particularly in the years leading up to, and during, seminary.  Still, the dream of presiding at the Eucharist Table -- breaking the bread and blessing the cup in the Jesus tradition, extending an open invitation to all -- has remained as a constant.

Sitting on the Shore: Preparing for Retreat Time

"Sitting in the Sand" - Photo by Trista Wynne

This weekend I will be heading to the beach for a personal retreat: just me, the waves, a little cottage and my God.  The labels give you an idea of what the last few months have been like as I've donned the cap and gown of seminary studies, (wrapping up the final quarter this summer -- halfway through today) pondered the last ten years, (I've been married for a decade now) thought about whether or not to move back near or into our childhood town, been wrestling with a change of direction in my calling, figuring out how best to support aging parents, and pondering a whole host of other topics.  Wondering what is in store for, I simply record a little prayer before returning to my packing.  I wonder what this weekend will reveal...


Beloved,

It's been a little while since I've felt your presence in a palpable way.  I see glimpses of You in the faces and actions of the dear ones at my internship site, and Your love and grace are evident in this place.  And yet, it seems that You and I have been separated for a time.

Questions and chaos about the present and future seem to swirl around me.  Have I gone into hiding on account of the storm?  Are You in the midst of it?  Have You  been listening?  Have I been talking to You?  Have I been listening?

The winds and debris are swirling so wildly.  Questions of "helpful" people wanting me to land on a direction pummel me like tsunami waves.  I have enough doubts to make Your Thomas look like one who never questioned.

Searching for You outside the Church Walls

Ah, Lord,

You know my heart!  I just want to find a community that lives out Your love and proclaims freedom and peace.  After the church visit that I have recently had, my heart is saddened, but still, I continue to search for you.  Surely it shouldn't be this hard to find unharnessed love!

Why should I have to look any farther than the church that claims to be following You, Lord Jesus?  Why must I look beyond the people who claim to know You in order to find justice, peace and steadfast love?  I just don't understand.  I wish I could take people at their word, and that the one who claims to be a Christian would walk in Your way: loving You with their whole being, and loving their neighbors (with a wide definition!) as much as they love themselves.

Poured out for All: Mary’s Gift and Steadfast Devotion

Beloved,

As I smooth a sweet smelling lotion over my dry, cracked hands, I consider Mary of Bethany and her tender gift of adoration, compassion and grief.  On account of her outpouring, the whole room was filled with a fragrant perfume.  It must have clung to everyone who was present!  Like the cedar smoke of a campfire lingers on our skin, clothes and hair, this heady perfume must have remained with everyone in Your presence for days.

"Rising Smoke" - Photo by Trista Wynne

How long were You scented with Mary’s oil, Beloved?  Did it linger on You as You traveled?  Did the smell turn heads as You walked past?  What would they have been thinking?

Was the scent still with You in the upper room as You gathered with the disciples and their families?  Did any of the children ask about it?  Did they breathe You in as You laid Yourhands on them in blessing?

Perhaps the aroma of Mary’s anointing was waning as You entered the garden.  Or perhaps, in Your deepest anguish, as blood sweat and tears mingled, her simple gift drifted up to comfort You.

Oh Beloved, if only Mary had been with You in the garden!  She would have held You while You shook.  She would have let Your tears fall into her hands instead of onto the cold, hard ground of the olive grove. 

But maybe her gift was enough.  Maybe it gave You the courage to finish what You knew was Yours to accomplish.  Maybe she was there in her own way.

A simple gift, an extravagant gift, this wasteful, wondrous, gift of devotion and service was poured out for You.  And then, You, in turn, were poured out for us all.  Mary of Bethany will always be remembered, as will You.  The gift was a beautiful thing indeed.