Setting Up the Sincere Pumpkin Patch

I am not as sore this morning as I expected to be.  Why might I be sore?

I spent a good chunk of yesterday afternoon and evening doing this:

Photo taken by Pastor Keith Spencer

Not the most flattering picture of me, I admit, but in many ways, my blogs capture my life, in most aspects (the ugliest, most unbloggable bits are on paper, waiting for some future grad student to stumble across them).

Yes, yesterday was the great pumpkin offload.  Every year in October, my church sells pumpkins, lots of pumpkins.  And before we can do that, we need to get them off the truck, an 18 wheeler.  That takes lots of people.

I've been part of the offload for three years now.  The first year, the offload lasted late into the evening.  We were still unloading pumpkins in the dark.  Last year, we finished earlier, but the experience still left me sore.

I'm less sore today.  I did get home and soak my entire body in the chilly pool, which might have helped.  I took ibuprofen last night, rather than waiting for my back to scream at me.

We had more people helping last night.  The first year I went to help, it was a skeleton crew.  I think that experience had many people asking people to help, instead of hoping that they would.  Hence, the less strenuous experience of last year and last night.

We also had fewer pumpkins to offload.  We only pay for what we sell, so the farmer who ships the pumpkins sent us fewer this year.

Photo taken by Pastor Keith Spencer

As always, I'm struck by the ways that our pumpkin patch serves as spiritual formation.  I love the way it brings our church together.  Much like Vacation Bible School, it's a time period where we need everyone to help out when and where they can.  Some of us offload pumpkins.  Some of us sell them.  Some of us show up in the evenings to turn the pumpkins to keep them from rotting.

It's church service that also supports the community.  We use the money that we raise for education--some years VBS, some years sending youth to the national gathering, some years for supplies.  One year the money helped repair the roof--it might not seem like supporting the community until one thinks about how many community organizations use our building, from AA groups to the drama group for developmentally disabled youth. 

The sight of a pumpkin patch in front of a church does provide some visibility in the time of year when most motorists aren't noticing us.  We have lots of people stopping by who would ordinarily never give us a second thought.  We have brochures that tell people about our church.  But I doubt that pumpkin purchasers ever come back for worship.

Last night, though, as I watched the first pumpkin patch customers stop by, I thought about the small children and their joy at choosing pumpkins.  Would that ever translate into a later yearning for church?

Of course, that's not why we do it--if we wanted to plant that kind of seed, we'd do something less labor intensive. 

This morning I'm full of gratitude.  I love having seasonal markers, even when our weather hasn't shifted.  I'm happy that I can still carry pumpkins, even though I've had more aches and pains in the past year than I'm used to.  I'm happy to be part of this wonderful church community.  I'm grateful for the workers who grew the pumpkins and the soil that nurtured them.  I wonder how much longer those distant fields, in the parched western part of the U.S., can sustain this life.

Photo taken by Pastor Keith Spencer

It's a potent reminder of how much life changes.  I want to adopt a more sacramental approach to life.  I want to see evidence of God's grace all around me, in the lowliest gourd, in the greatest pumpkin, in every human who crosses my path.

Meditation on This Sunday's Gospel

The readings for Sunday, October 18, 2015:


Isaiah 53:4-12

Psalm 91:9-16

You have made the LORD your refuge, and the Most High your habitation. (Ps. 91:9)

Hebrews 5:1-10

Mark 10:35-45


Imagine being one of the 12 disciples; imagine the possible rivalries. Every so often, as with this Sunday’s Gospel, we see the very human side of the disciples.

Most of us, from the time we are little children, we want to be loved best in all the world. Unfortunately, many events happen to convince us that love is rare, and that if one person is loved, it means we must be loved less. Humans tend to see love as finite and to feel like there’s not enough to go around.

If Jesus was a different kind of leader, he might have decided to pit the disciples against each other, so that he could feed his own ego watching them compete for his favor. Those of you from dysfunctional families or Machiavellian workplaces have probably seen this technique in use.

Happily, we don’t worship that kind of God. We might expect Jesus to be a leader of comfort and compassion. We might expect Jesus to figure out a way to respond so that everyone gets to feel good about themselves and be assured that Jesus loves them all exactly the same.

We don’t worship that kind of God either.

Jesus reminds them that they don’t know what they’re asking. Again and again, Jesus tells his disciples, and centuries of believers to come, that the last will be first. Again and again, Jesus stresses that we're here to serve. Following Jesus isn't about self-empowerment. We don't follow Jesus because we hope to become rich. Other religions, like Capitalism, might make that promise, but not Christianity. Christianity is NOT just a big self-improvement program.

Sure, we might become better people, but not by the route that the larger world offers us. Christ tells us that we fulfill our destiny by serving others. It goes against most everything else we've ever learned. We're not supposed to look out for number one? We're not supposed to be most concerned about ourselves and our families? No, we're not.

You might feel as much despair over the need to have a servant’s heart as you did by last Sunday’s Gospel about giving away all our wealth. But here again, we can change our trajectory by taking small steps.

For some of us, if we really start to live a Gospel life, it will take practice and undoing of a past life of bad habits. Start small. Do good deeds for people that you like. Practice radical patience. Be on the lookout for all the people who need your smile or a kind word. Let other people take the credit for your ideas. Give away more money. Add some more prayer time to your day to focus on the needs of others.  Go through your day as the monks do, offering prayers for the world periodically throughout the day.
Ask God to show you how to have a servant's heart.

Maybe God will call you to heal others, like St. Luke, whose feast day we celebrate on October 18. Maybe we will have a different apostle as a role model. There are many ways to serve, and a vast world in need of our service.

Who knows where this path may lead? But we know that Christ calls us to follow it. By imitating Christ, we can change ourselves, and in the process, we can change the world.

Post Storm Strategies

We like rivers that stay within their borders as they lazily drift towards the sea:

We don't like the reminders of the laws of Physics that govern the planet, the storms of the century, the thousand year floods:

We want to believe that we are creating structures that will outlast us, modern cathedrals that will make our descendants marvel:

We persevere, even though we know it could all be swept away in an afternoon.  We build the buildings,

Cornerstone for Mepkin Abbey Chapel

plant the flowers,

write the words,

capture the images:

In this way, we walk the labyrinth of life:

The Lessons of Columbus and Our Spiritual Lives

Writing time is short this morning, so let me run a Columbus Day post that I wrote a few years ago.  It's one of my favorite meditations on Columbus.

Today we celebrate Columbus Day: October 12 was the actual day of the first sighting of land after almost 2 months at sea. I’m always amazed at what those early explorers accomplished. At Charlestowne Landing (near Charleston, SC), I saw a boat that was a replica of the boat that some of the first English settlers used to get here. It was teeny-tiny. I can't imagine sailing up the coast to the next harbor in it, much less across the Atlantic. Maybe it would have been easier, back before everyone knew how big the Atlantic was.

In our spiritual lives, we may be feeling a bit like Columbus. Let’s ask some questions prompted by Columbus Day, questions that may lead us to some meaningful meditations.

Below, when I talk about our spiritual lives, I’m talking about our individual lives and expressions of spirituality, as well as our corporate spiritual lives, the lives we live in the company of fellow believers.

--In our spiritual lives, are we the explorer or are we the native populations of new continents? Or are we members of the Old World? In other words, are we always striking out for new lands? Or are we waiting to be discovered? Are we so tied to our traditions that we can’t even imagine how our lives could be different?

--As spiritual people, how long are we willing to be at sea? I’m part of a church tradition, mainstream Protestantism, that looks back longingly to the 1950’s, when it seemed that everybody made time for church. Many of us hope that we will soon return to a time when church returns to its central location. But we may have only started our time at sea, on a voyage of discovery. Can we trust God? Can we continue to hold onto our faith when we're in the middle of a vast ocean, with nothing but our instruments and the stars to guide us, with no sense of how far away the land for which we're searching might be?

--We may be certain we’re on a quest to find one kind of wealth. In the process, we may discover something completely different, something far more valuable? Will we recognize the value of what we find?

--The explorations in North and South America changed our cooking forever. Imagine a culinary life without corn, sweet peppers, tomatoes. Imagine life without chocolate. What ways can our spirituality enrich our cultures?

--Of course, if I was looking through the Native American lens, I might say, "Imagine life without smallpox." What are the possible negative impacts implicit in the collision between secular culture and sacred culture? Can we mitigate those? Should we mitigate those?

--These explorations wouldn’t have been possible without the patronage of the wealthiest of society members. In our current world, many of us are some of the wealthiest people on the planet. North Americans may not feel like it, but we’re the Isabella and Ferdinand of our time. What projects should we be funding? What spiritual projects will make the kind of lasting legacy of funding the voyage of Columbus?

Your Giving Allows Others to Give

At the end of September, we had breakfast with a man we first met as our campus pastor and professor of Religion.  I've written a bit about that morning here, but I want to record some thoughts which have come back to me through the last 11 days.

Our campus pastor has gone on to be a parish pastor, and when he retired, he started working for Novus Way, which runs 4 Lutheran camps.  Lately, he's been raising funds for a campaign to expand Luther Springs.

It's an amazing turn of events, because not too long ago (12 years?), Luther Springs was close to insolvency, and now, the camp has to turn away participants because there's not enough space.

Our former campus pastor talked about his experience going to churches and synod meetings and the smaller units that make up the synods.  He has noticed that pastors tend to think that people won't donate, but when he talks to the people, they are happy to donate.

And he has also noticed what many a person has already observed:  one person's gift allows others to feel comfortable giving.

In my younger days, I thought my giving was useless, because I had so little money.  In my midlife days, I still feel like I don't have the kind of money that would allow me to fund the whole project.  I know that all of us donating smaller bits of money can add up to the whole project, and so I donate.

What I forget:  my giving signals others that this project is worthwhile.  In some way, it's my giving (or your giving, or anyone's giving) that gives others permission to give, and often more generously than they might have otherwise.

For the Beauty of the Earth, For the Beauty of the Skies

I have been watching Venus from my writing room window for weeks now.  And this morning, I can also see Jupiter.  As the moon rose higher, I watched for Mercury, but never saw its dim light.

Pam Ward-Reagan's picture

Later in the month, we will be able to see 2 other planets with our naked eyes.  For more on this morning's sky layout, go to this site.  The moon is beautiful this morning:  a slim crescent with the outline of the moon above it.

I'm reminded of an old saying about the old moon cradling the new moon in its arms.  But I don't have any cameras that can capture what I saw this morning.

I also didn't have a camera to capture the sunrise on Thursday.  It, too, was breathtaking, but in a different way than the astronomy lessons of these past several pre-dawn mornings.

My sense of wonder at God's amazing creation even stretches to the animal that used my pool as a toilet.  I suspect it was a raccoon.   Last week we heard chittering noises.  I said to my spouse, "Is it inside or outside the house?"  When he said outside, I assumed we would go back to sleep.  But he went to investigate.

There were 2 raccoons, one in our pool, and one out.  Luckily the one that was in was still alive and could pull himself out.  Later we found our small beach ball deflated by claws or teeth.

I find it amazing that we have raccoons visiting us, even though we're not near any sort of forest.  Again, I give thanks for the diversity of creation.

I'm reminded of that old hymn, which was one of my favorites of my youth.  I'll post the first stanza here, and I'll hum it all day.  I changed the last line to be the one I remember.

"For the beauty of the earth,

   For the beauty of the skies,

For the Love which from our birth

   Over and around us lies:

Christ, our God, to Thee we raise

This our hymn of grateful praise."

Switching Out the Prayer Books

This week I switched out my prayer books.  I use Phyllis Tickle's The Divine Hours for my fixed hour prayer. It's a 3 volume set, so three times a year, I trade out prayer books, taking book marks from one and adding them to the next one. Each time, I shake my head at how quickly time zooms by.

I've been using these wonderful books since Advent of 2005. In 2004, I went to Mepkin Abbey, and I really wanted something to help me pray through the day. I picked up a book in the bookstore. I was attracted to its small size. But each prayer encounter was almost too short. It didn't really replicate the Mepkin experience.

As I was reading Henri Nouwen's Genesee Diary, I realized that I really wanted a prayer book that was calibrated to the liturgical seasons. I wanted to be reading Advent verses at Advent, for example. And so, I made the leap.

I'm happy to have also discovered these prayers on an Internet site, so that I don't have to carry the books around with me. Would I have bought the books had I known of the Internet source? Probably. It's nice to be able to pray without a computer.

Some of you would say that you don't need a book to pray, which, of course, is true. But for those of us who need the structure, fixed hour prayer can work well. For those of us who can't figure out what to say when we pray, fixed hour prayer can work well. I love the idea of being part of a world-wide prayer web.

And of course, the Tickle volumes are just one of many resources. As I've blogged before, many people are rediscovering the value of this ancient discipline, people of many different denominations.

This time as I switched the prayer books, I took a minute to realize that Phyllis Tickle died a few weeks ago.  There wasn't much coverage of her death, for so many reasons.  But I imagine when future scholars write about the church history being made during the last two decades, her name will be prominent for so many reasons.  One of those reasons will surely be the revival in fixed hour prayer that she spearheaded.