Open Engagement

Today I was sitting in my local Starbucks, and I looked out the window to see a little red haired boy, maybe about 3 years old, outside the entrance door.  His mother was standing and talking with a friend, and while they talked, this little boy was eagerly engaging with the simple metal handrail along the ramp leading up to the door.  First, you've got to realize that the rail was just a very simple metal bar - nothing fancy.  But at one end, it curved around to make a good foothold.  The little boy was climbing up and then down, up again, down again.  Then he ran the length of the bar looking for more ways to get up on the bar.  He tried a few options, found it was hard to climb up without the toehold, so returned to the end excitedly and went up and down again, folding himself over the top bar, standing up straight on it, hugging the bar, lying along it, getting down again, swinging from it.  I don't know if I can convey the intensity and enthusiasm with which this little boy engaged with climbing and exploring this simple bar.  I sat transfixed by his undivided and unwavering commitment to his quest while for the whole 5 minutes his mother was talking, he continued to climb and explore with unrelenting curiousity, focus and dedication.

And I thought: when was the last time I took such interest in exploring an everyday object like that?  I would never give that tired old railing a second look, let alone see it as a delightful way to engage with my world, although perhaps at one point, when I was three, I might have.   This led me to wonder if I ever, in my own current context, approach any everyday situation with the same kind of complete openness and eagerness to all possibilities that the little boy was demonstrating?   Do I ever still run enthusiastically toward my own handrails in life with self abandon – and with an active desire to squeeze every ounce of possibility out of an everyday opportunity? 

This Sunday I will be preaching about what it might look like to live our lives with wide open hands and wide open hearts.  This little boy gave me a great image to ponder as I consider what I will say. 

Promises

Today I'm going to preside at the first wedding I've done in a long time.  Since first being ordained in 1996, I've done hundreds of funerals, but only maybe a dozen or two weddings.  In my days as a Unitarian Universalist minister I did some unusual ones. I remember one wedding I did in the Tufts Chapel for a Greek Orthodox woman who wanted all the Orthodox rituals in her wedding with her groom, a culturally Jewish man who'd never once been to temple in his life.  He had no knowledge of her (or his) religion, but just kept saying he didn't want the wedding to be "too Christian."  Boy, I had to work very hard with that couple to come up with something that worked for them both!  I did weddings for people who wanted me to sing Sufi chants I'd never heard of or to include very, very long poems or to base their ceremony on their favorite movie.  I've got to say, such weddings were exhausting!  It was like reinventing marriage every time.  Now, as an Episcopal priest, I stick with the Marriage rite from the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer.  It's traditional, but beautiful, and it is founded in the understanding that it is God that brings people together into a life of commitment together. 

Marriage is about making promises - both the bride and groom's promises to each other and God's promise to be there with them in their love for each other.  Sometimes we avoid making promises for fear that we will not be able to keep them.  But today two of our parishioners will make lifelong promises to each other - and despite the risks involved, they are excited and happy.  For they know they will not need to carry out their promises alone.  Their extended families and our church community stand ready to support them in their marriage.  And they also know that God is at the center of their lives together and will provide what they need to live more deeply into God's love together.

When we are convinced that God is active in our lives and when we can entrust our lives to God, we are able to make promises to ourselves and others despite our fears.  For we know that with God, nothing is impossible.  I am grateful for John and Kim today - for their faith, and for their willingness to make promises.

Break Fast Time

Well, just to report the results of my wonderful juice fast, I fasted for a full 10 days, including the last two days in a hurricane.  I juiced a whole bunch of vegetables and fruits before the storm in case I lost power.  I had a pitcher of red juice (beets, carrots, celery, hot peppers and apples), a pitcher of yellow juice (peach, mango, pear and celery) and a giant pitcher of bright green juice (chard, kale, parsley, celery, lemon, ginger, peaches and cucumbers)  These juices lasted for the whole last two days of the fast.  Those days were very relaxing because I didn't have to do any juicing, and all I could do was rest, since Hurricane Irene raging outside.  It turns out that being still, quiet and restful at the end of a fast only brings a deeper awareness of your body and the changes that fasting is bringing.  The fast really sunk in during the hurricane - I recognized both my hunger and my fullness, the changes in my body, the new energy I felt and my gratitude very strongly as the fast came to an end. 

The reason I haven't written this post before is that I was waiting for my internet to be restored after the storm.  I broke the fast last Tuesday at lunch with some beautiful fresh salads at lunch and dinner, and then the next day, I had a soup with beans and pesto in it.  My awareness and appreciation of what I'm eating is still very high almost a week later.  I have not fallen into sloppy eating habits again - at least not yet.  I feel my relationship with food has changed and it is my prayer that I can actively maintain this new relationship rather than fall into my old, mindless (and pretty un-grateful) habits.

My clothes now fit comfortably again and I lost 12 pounds over the course of my fast.  I feel well and strong, in control of my food choices and free of illogical cravings. 

Most of all, I feel very grateful for having so much good, healthy food and clean water available to me.  I hope the experience of fasting will keep me in that place of gratefulness so that I remember not to take these amazing gifts for granted.

And I think I will do it again!  I hope you will give it a try sometime, too.  Advent or Lent are natural times to do some fasting, but anytime is a good time to get in touch with the gift of food and your relationship to it.  Let me know if I can be of help.