Sunday Snow Day Short Worship by Way of Technology

On Saturday afternoon, my spouse suggested that I make some sort of recording for parishioners, since we weren't having any sort of worship service at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, Tennessee.  While I thought it was a great idea, I decided to wait until Sunday morning, so that I would have time to think about the best approach and write down a few thoughts/prayers.

I decided that it should be more than just a prayer for all of us stuck inside because of the weather, although I did want to do that too.  I decided on reading the lectionary selections for the day, having a bit of a meditation, and closing with prayer and a benediction.

I use the live recording feature of Facebook every morning as I do my morning watch devotional time that I started during Covid.  But that's with my South Florida church's page, not my own.  Happily, it was just as easy on my own page.

I tagged the church in the space where one puts the date/title and a short description.  As I broadcast, one of my morning watch people who usually watches the 5:30 a.m. broadcast joined us.  Within 15 minutes of finishing the broadcast, the member who manages the church's Facebook page had linked back to my post.

I was also able to capture the recording and put in on my YouTube page and then to send the link to the church's e-mail list.  You can view it here if you like--it's open to all.

Certainly more people have viewed it than just the church membership of roughly 40 adults.  Right now, the number of viewers is at 456, and I have no idea what counts as a viewer.  I've tried some experimenting on my own, but the viewer count doesn't go up--but perhaps that's because it's my page?

I did hear from church members who appreciated my effort, so that alone made me feel it was worthwhile.  If it reaches others who find it meaningful, that's great too.  On a week-end so full of troubling news and difficult weather, I'm glad I was able to minister in some form.

Advent Eve

Tomorrow is the first Sunday in Advent.  If we're going to adopt an Advent practice, now is the time to make our preparations.  Do you need candles?  Drawing paper?  Fabric?  A book of Advent reflections?  An Advent wreath?

I will adopt the practices I always try:  an Advent wreath with 4 candles that I'll light regularly.  I might not return to my wreath every evening, but several days a week, I'd like to do that.  I have several Advent devotional books.

But this year, I will be continuing my morning devotional broadcast at 5:30 a.m. on my church's Facebook page.  As I've been doing for months now, I'll be reading from Phyllis Tickle's The Divine Hours.  Continuing this process feels like a special Advent practice.

My church is doing an Advent wreath creating event tomorrow--we're not sure what to expect in these days when we haven't been meeting in person.  It was never a hugely attended event, but this year might be different.

I think I will create a special Advent wreath for Morning Watch.  I'm not sure how I'll let it or display it during the time.  But let me try.  Perhaps there are some electronic candles.  Hmmm.  Let me let this thought percolate--the thought about candles, not the thought about creating a wreath especially for Morning Watch. 

For many of us, this Thanksgiving week-end will be a bit different from what we usually would have experienced.  For me, I'm not driving 12+ hours today to get back home from my North Carolina family reunion.  I've got lots of food in the fridge, so no need to do food shopping or food prep.

I'm seeing some time freed up that I wouldn't ordinarily have--I want to put it to good use by getting ready for Advent.

What We Treasure

As I was thinking about what to write this morning, I looked up some older posts trying to remember when I used to post links to my video sermons--was it the day of church or was it after?  But what really interested me was this post from July that talked about a changing sense of call--and what was more interesting was the Facebook interchange that I recorded. 

I wrote this:  I'm ready to be called to a different kind of ministry--perhaps the director of virtual creative encounters with the Holy. Hmm. Let me dream about that for a time."

These days, I'd edit that to be both virtual and live.  I repeat this vision here, because I want to keep remembering it.  This afternoon, I'll attend a virtual session that will be similar to those I want to create in the future, an Advent Crafts workshop offered by one of my Create in Me friends for the Southeastern synod of the Lutheran (ELCA) church.  I'll write more on this workshop later.

This morning, I want to remember that I've gotten positive feedback for the morning watch sessions I've been leading each morning at 5:30 a.m. through my church's Facebook page.  I have trouble figuring out how to interpret the statistics that Facebook gives me as the administrator of my church's Facebook page.  What exactly is an engagement?  When it says that x amount of people have been reached, what does that mean?  I'm guessing that an engagement means a certain amount of time that people have lingered--or does it mean that people have clicked to make the video play?

I always go back to check the comments that people post to morning watch.  From the comments and from the people who I can see watching as I do the live broadcast, I know that at least 4 people tune in regularly.

At the end of Friday's morning watch, I talked about thinking about what we want more of and what we want less of--I talked about the delights of my sketch book and the value of doing a sketch every morning for five minutes, often the only time I'm sketching.  I talked about what delights us also delighting God, that God put us on earth not to finish our chore list.  Does it bring us delight?  That's a good barometer--what brings us true joy?  I talked about treasuring the time to do morning watch and the time to sketch each day.

One of my constant viewers said, "I also treasure Morning Watch."  Another one wrote, "For me as rewarding as Church."

I wanted to record this feedback here, because finding past material on Facebook isn't always easy.  I want to remember that what I'm doing is worthwhile.

Seven Months of Morning Watch

Seven months ago, I started "broadcasting" a morning watch devotion time on my church's Facebook page.  I started it as the pandemic began spreading exponentially in the U.S.  I started it in the days after my church decided to move to virtual worship.  I had no plan, really.  

My pastor was putting together online opportunities to support our congregation members, and I wanted to help.  I'm an early morning person in a way that most people aren't.  Several church friends had been moved to working from home, and I had heard from them that they wished there was some sort of morning mix of devotion and creative time to begin their day.  I got my pastor's O.K., and on the morning of March 30, I made my first attempt.

I had originally planned to choose my own Bible passages and write my own prayers, but as I thought about it, I said to myself, "Why do that when Phyllis Tickle has already put together that resource?"  I've been using her 3 volume set, The Divine Hours, so on the morning of March 30, I pulled that book off the shelf and read the passages out loud.  Then, before the final prayer, I gave us 5-7 minutes to journal, to sketch, to meditate, or to do whatever grounds us.

I am so glad that I used the Phyllis Tickle book.  Back then, I had no idea that I would still be doing morning watch seven months later.  I thought I would do it for a few weeks and then life might shift back to something that looked more like normal.  I thought that Easter might be a demarcation point, and once the Octave of Easter was over, I'd stop broadcasting.

Now I have no idea when I'll stop.  It's been a good experience for me.  I read the Bible passages differently when I'm reading them out loud and when I know that people will be watching me read them out loud.  I don't mean that I change my verbal reading style, but that when I'm reading out loud, I don't skim or let my eyes wander across the page, the way I do when I'm reading silently.

I have been sketching more, and if I hadn't been doing morning watch, some of that sketching wouldn't have happened.

But what's most important is that at the end, I do a benediction, a time of reminding people of how much God loves us.  I give the message that I need to hear:  God is with us, God delights in us, God is rooting for us.  

As the months have gone on, periodically the process feels stale.  I feel like I'm sketching the same thing, saying the same thing, using the same words.  And then, a fresh idea breaks through.  

The process is important for me, in the way that it has been for years.  I make my way through the day in a much more grounded way if I actually begin the day by doing something that grounds me (imagine that!).  Is it important to anyone else?  I have 3-6 faithful viewers; usually 1-4 people watch live.  Usually each post gets positive interaction:  some likes, some comments.

I'll keep doing morning watch--for how long?  These past seven months have shown us the folly of making definitive plans.  It works for me now, so let me stay the course.

 

The Quilt Need Not Transform Itself

My Mepkin journaling group is listening/journaling our way through Following the Mystics Through the Narrow Gate, a conference that was recorded.  This month's segment was a 25 minute talk by Father Richard Rohr.  The most compelling part of the segment, on the Wednesday in October when I listened, was Rohr's idea about how we feel we must prove ourselves, over and over again, and get ever and ever better.  He posits that this need of overproving of ourselves is part of Western culture, not Christian culture.  

I had that idea on the brain as I closed my morning watch, the morning devotion time that I do each morning on my church's Facebook page.  I always say a few sentences, a benediction of sorts, after the closing prayer.  Yesterday, I talked about how God loves us just as we are, that God's not waiting for us to change.  God delights in us--God's not waiting until we transform ourselves into something else.  After all, God made us the way we are.

I shifted my computer a bit to show the quilts on the bed behind me.  I said that I loved them--of course I do.  After all, I chose the fabric and sewed it together.  I'm not disappointed with the quilts because they don't have pink fabric--if I had wanted them to have pink fabric, I'd have included it.  I'm not waiting for the quilts to develop their inner pinkness before I love them.

Likewise, God does not say, "I would love you so much more if you could just become a more patient person.  I would love you so much more if you would cut down on your drinking.  I would love you so much more if you gave 3% more of your income to charity.  Do those things, and then I will love you fully."

In fact, Richard Rohr would tell us that God loves us so that we can change, not if we change.  But any self-hatred we feel is not God's voice.  God's love opens us to possibility--and it's why saints don't become cynics (Rohr's approximate words).

It seems like such a basic idea, and yet it's so hard for me to believe it, to live it.  It's an idea I return to again and again in my writing and my preaching/devotion work.  Sadly, the idea that God loves us, that God's not passing harsh judgment on us--this idea isn't one that's preached widely enough.

And that's sad, because that should be the central message of the Christian church--we found it woven throughout our sacred texts.  Would that we proclaimed it more loudly.

The Improvement Projects of God

I got home last night to a house simmering with unpleasantness.  My spouse had attempted a variety of projects, all projects which should have been easy, all projects which went astray, which left my spouse ever more frustrated, and by the time I got home, he was in a foul mood.

Luckily, the dinner he had made was delicious, so there was one thing that worked.  

This morning, I used his experiences as I closed morning watch on my church's Facebook page.  I always end morning watch with a benediction of sorts.  I'm intrigued by how I use the stuff of life in my closing.  This morning, I talked about hoping that we all find meaning in our work, that we have at least one piece of it that comes to successful completion.

And then I took a leap.  I reminded us that we are God's projects, that God is seeing us through to a successful completion, even though we may be at the point where we don't see how we will ever be a successful project of God.

I love this idea of humanity as a home repair project.  I will spend some time thinking about that.  And then, after morning watch, I had a different thought:  what if we're not home repair projects, but God's self-improvement projects?

I know that many of us see God as perfect and complete, unchanging.  Why would God need a self-improvement project if God is perfect?

But I like the idea of God as taking on projects that might lead to a better version of God.  I'm intrigued by the idea that God's creation can help God do that.

Olive Trees and Eagle Wings

 The morning readings in The Divine Hours by Phyllis Tickle have been speaking to me more so than usual this week, which has left me inspired as I've ended the Morning Watch devotional that I've been doing for my church.  Let me record some of those thoughts.

On Thursday, I read Psalm 52:8:  "I am like a green olive tree in the house of God; I trust in the mercy of God for ever and ever" (p. 377).  I found the idea of a green olive tree delightful, and when I searched online for images, I was struck by the twisted together nature of the trunk and how sturdy it looked.

I was also struck by the fact that the tree seems to be one that can live and thrive in conditions that would adversely affect other trees.  This tree likes drier soil.  And I liked the versatility of the fruit:  olives can be used to give flavor and sodium and even more protein than other plant based food (I should look it up to make sure this is true).  Olive oil can be used to cook with and to moisturize skin and hair.

As I concluded Morning Watch, I encouraged us all to be like olive trees, sturdy and rooted and offering shelter to a lot of creatures, bearing good fruit that's versatile.

This morning, I was struck by the end of Psalm 103:5, which promises that God will renew our youth like eagles.  How I need some eagle strength right now, and I do miss my youthful vigor.

I'm working on this sketch, still in progress, of the house of God and the olive tree:

At first I thought I was creating stained glass windows, and maybe I am, although in some ways, I've put windows in what could be the roof of the temple structure.  Or maybe it's the top of the building.  Or maybe it will just be the tree that's more realistic--and I'm using that term very loosely.  I am interested to see where this goes.

As I concluded Morning Watch this morning, I talked about doing things over the week-end, like cooking or reading, that would renew vigor, keep us rooted, and provide nourishment (both literal and figurative) for the coming week.  I encouraged us to remember that God is there too, our nourishment, our olive tree roots, our eagle wings.

Let us go forth, to be nourishment to the world, to be rooted like the olive trees in the face of all that may be coming, let us use those eagle wings to soar.

God as Jazz Musician and Other Benedictions from Morning Watch

I have been doing Morning Watch since late March; when the technology is working, at 5:30 a.m., I broadcast live from my church's Facebook page which is then recorded.  I read many of the readings from Phyllis Tickle's The Divine Hours.  Then we take 5-7 minutes of quiet time for sketching, journaling, meditating, or whatever grounds us--I work on a sketch each morning.  I close with the last prayer, which Tickle calls "The Concluding Prayer of the Church," and then I say some encouraging words.

Some days, the encouraging words are similar, some version of "God is with us, walking beside us, cheering us on."  Other days, I say something different, just to keep it interesting, for both me and those who tune in.

On Tuesday morning, I was feeling tired and sloggy.  Just before Morning Watch, I had gone outside to look at the moon, which wasn't the gorgeous full moon I wanted to see, but something obscured.  At the end of Morning Watch,  I talked about looking for the full moon, which sometimes is gorgeous, or might appear as a glowing disc beneath clouds--not exactly what we were looking for, but beautiful anyway.

And then I had a new idea.  I talked about God as jazz musician in our band, master improviser.  I talked about God as the one who could lead us through unexpected twists and turns, that we could create something more beautiful than anything we had planned.

Yesterday was the feast day of the Transfiguration, along with being the 75th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima.  I talked about all the ways we long to be transfigured.  I also talked about danger of letting those longings for change make us want to bomb everything to rubble and start over, the way that public policy seems to do these days.  

Some days, I make up a benediction as we close.  Yesterday, I said that I wished for all of us that we would find ways to be transfigured and ways to go out and transfigure the world to make it closer to what God intends for us all.

Most days I end with that kind of benediction, regardless of the words that I choose to express it. 

A Blessing for Your Thursday: Softening Our Hard Hearts towards a Place of Compassion

When I close the broadcast of Morning Watch each day, I give a sort of benediction.  Some days it's more like words of encouragement.  Some days, it's more like prayer.  Some days, I repeat what I often say ("God is with us, cheering us on, walking beside us, going up ahead to clear a way for us, etc.).  Some days, something new breaks through.

I often wish later that I had written down what I said, because as the days go by and the recordings mount, it's hard to remember which days were the ones that felt profound.  There's only been a time or two where I turned the last words of Morning Watch into a post of any kind, but I know that there have been more times that felt more profound.

This morning was one of those days.  I talked about our hard hearts cracking open, and I heard that language which feels so violent, in these days of so much violence.

I said, "Let us pray that God who has said even the hardest heart can be melted, can be split open.  Let us pray in these days, that all of our hard heart places are cracked open just a little bit, or a lot.  Let us pray that the cracking open of these hardened hearts is not too painful a process, but instead a softening process."

I then went on to talk about hard hearts softening towards a place of compassion where we can all make better decisions.

Here was my final blessing:

"Move your hard heart places towards softening; see what you can approach from a spirit of compassion.  This the only way, or at least one of a few ways to make the world truly better.  That's what I wish for us all, a better world.  Let's begin to create it today!"