Almost at the end

Today is Maundy Thursday. I have just finished the Good Friday bulletin and still working on completing sermons, hospital calls, the monthly newsletter, a pile of email responses, bills, filing, laundry, family plans for Easter and sorting out plans to run away from home.

Usually these beloved 'High Holy Days' have been just that.

This year, I am quite frankly 'Lented' out. NJ overcast skies help the sombre mood, but not my own.

As long as I can remember Good Friday has nearly always darkened over at around 3 O'clock. I have always found an equally sombre spot in which to be dark on Good Friday. Tomorrow's report is for clear but windy skies. I think we'll need the winds of the Mitsral to usher out all the suffering I have seen since Feb 6th, and usher in a New Heaven and a New Earth. Thank God, I am not responsible for any of that--only for praying with the sick, preaching the word and serving communion. No matter how much suffering our world endures, no amount of chocolate bunnies can convince me that God is not with us in it.

Why can't we GET this?

I went to the beach today. I didn't want to go to the beach but I had to go since I was already within blocks of it due to an overnight visit with friends. The beach in March in the Northeast is rarely windless or warm. Today was no exception.

The sky was sunny and blue but no amount of sun this time of year could eschew the bone chilling cold of winter winds. Still, I forced myself to walk, hoping that by mashing through thick sand at the water's edge would be enough to get my heart pumping and warm me up. It did. Kinda.

Thankfully about 10 minutes into the battle, the winds took a coffee break. With relief and gratitude, I pressed on, looking for my 'expected' gift of shell or sea glass. The water's edge was more full than usual of shellish goodies but none held any particular interest.

I went farther down the beach to my favorite finding spot which I privately call Boomerang Beach. It was unusually devoid of shells or even fragments. I had been duped by Mother Nature. I stood in disappointed disbelief and turned my back to the sun (and the wind) which was now back from break. Perfect...

I decided to walk out onto 'my' jetty. I began to stare at the sea with I'm sure, the face of a spoiled child. I had been both tricked and defeated. Damned leap year...

But just as I was about to give up hope and walk away empty-handed, Grace appeared.

The spray from the waves (who themselves were fighting to arrive at their destination), began catching the sunlight and making an assembly-line of rainbows!

Again, I looked in disbelief; joyful disbelief. Wave after wave rolled towards the beach with crowns of Easter-egg pastels. This was both a moment of speechless joy and stunning embarrassment. Joy because of the beauty and the surprise; embarrassment as I realized I had secretly proclaimed God's beach, sans beach glass, was 'not enough'.

Enter God's grace. It shows up unexpected, unannounced, "turns our mourning into dancing" and turns us on our ear. It reminds us again and again that as either Calvin or Barth said: "God does for us what we cannot do for ourselves."

These "grace-bows" were not the things I was seeking or even thought possible. They also weren't 'things' I could pick up, claim as my own and put in my pocket. They weren't 'items' I could take home to add to my collections of already-full bowls of sea glass and special shells. They weren't boasting objects I could show fellow beach collectors or friends.

They were however, a most poignant reminder that God's Grace is freely given, but cannot be commanded, captured or collected. The grace-bows were also a reminder again of the ancient symbol of protection and promise given to us by God. Finally the rainbows were a reminder that God's love is still amazingly more abundant than we could ever ask or imagine, if only we can let go of our agenda and take time to notice and to receive God's.

Relationships

Here's the best metaphor I can think of for my church and me. Guess who's who? Yes that's right. I'm the cat and the parish is the moose. I'm ready to pounce when things look titillating or tasty and I'm ready to bolt when things are either boring or threatening. Now I don't mean bolt for good, I mean just escape back to the manse for a nap or to curl up (with a book under, of course, my feaux bear skin)

The moose on the other hand can handle (and usually lives) in adverse conditions for extended periods of time. It can seek food and shelter on its own, but needs a good leader to find the really rich air and comfortable dwellings.

Both of these marvelous God-made creatures usually exist in separate altitudes and attitudes. But... as you can see from the photo, sometimes there are rare moments when they, in the quiet and peace of a snowy retreat, find connection and at least for a moment, love.

Ahhhh... Grace from the Sea

I've just returned from a few restorative days at the beach. Some might say that going to the beach in the Northeast in January is silly or downright masochistic, but to them I say, not so!

Some of the best beach days are found in the quiet off-season , when the crowds are gone for the winter and you can walk and drift as you please.

I am a 'professional' (read: avid) sea glass collector and pride myself on my collection as well as my discernment as to when the best times for finding these treasures are.

But beach glass collecting is not just another exercise in amassing 'stuff'. It's actually the opposite. It's an exercise in letting go of tension, worry and obsessing about things beyond our control and returning back to self and listening to God's voice, most often found for me in what's laying in wait for me in the sand.

This trip I found the usual large chunks of green, white (clear turned white/opaque from the ocean's churning) and brown all of which are fairly common and abundant on the right days/moons/tides. But I also found the sweetest piece of light green. By expert account, this piece is found/collected every 1 in 400. (which is about right since that's about the size of my 10- year collection.)

In the midst of losing 2 friends this year, (one to death and another to life circumstance) to find a piece of pale green, is most helpful and hopeful. Helpful to find something rare, and hopeful that new, special things are on their way.

I firmly believe God speaks to us in ways that we understand if we actually take notice. I don't stop to take notice enough, which is why I always find Grace by the Sea.

May you find God's grace in your sacred spaces. If you don't have a sacred space yet, no time like the present to create one. I bet God is waiting for you there right now.

Boxing Day

Boxing Day Definition: The fight that goes on in one's head between relaxing and thinking we should be doing something useful. cf; John Calvin (After all that's what we were put on this earth to do do. Be useful, no?) I am supposed to be starting my vacation today. Another battle. I did sleep in mighty late, which I feel no guilt about whatsoever, but I am also headed to a parishioner's home for dinner, on my fist day of vacation. They are wonderful people and good company including their children, but I really should be doing all non-work stuff this week since plenty of church work and ministry meetings will be waiting for me on Jan 2nd. Perhaps this is my way of slowly shifting into a vacation rhythm that seems both so foreign and long over due. I wonder what Calvin did on his vacations. Probably read up on boxing.

Day One

WOW- I Did it! I created a blog! One of my clergy budz has been nagging me to do this for months.This has NEVER been a dream of mine. I am always terrified that even my very hidden musings will someday be uncovered and I will be ruined. I worry that maybe my cleaning lady will discover my old journals which are buried in boxes in various closets, and be horrified. Good thing I don't have a cleaning lady.

So why Grace by the Sea? I don't live close enough to the sea, but go there when ever I can, year 'round and always find God's richest blessings there, amidst the flotsam and jetsam, on the beach, literally. Not that Grace can't be found in other places, but with the hectic pace of life in and being a Presbyterian minister, finding enough space and quiet to notice God's grace, is tricky biz.

...and sometimes dangerous, evidently. Gmail is so clever that they 'scan' your email conversations and then send you links to things they might think you'd like. Today I got an introduction to a website that sells paraphernalia that says "Minister, Don't shoot" or something like that...that's neither funny nor clever. I like Revgalblogpal's goodies which say "Does this pulpit make my but look big?" Now that's funny.
Write me clever things that will help us all endure the next 12 days,
Yours,
GBS (Grace by the Sea)