No Parades, No Parties, No Pancakes in a Pandemic Year--Let Us Eat Cake!

Here we are on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday--but it's a pandemic year, so we already know it will be different.  You may have been seeing houses in New Orleans that have been decorated the way that parade floats would have been decorated in years past.  I admire the "let's make lemonaid out of these lemons we've been given" spirit.

Today is Mardi Gras, and it's also Shrove Tuesday. It's the day before Ash Wednesday, the day before Lent begins. Mardi Gras and Carnival, holidays that come to us out of predominantly Catholic countries, certainly have a more festive air than Shrove Tuesday, which comes to us from some of the more dour traditions of England. The word shrove, which is the past tense of the verb to shrive, which means to seek absolution for sins through confession and penance, is far less festive than the Catholic terms for this day.

In the churches of my childhood, we had pancake suppers on Shrove Tuesday.  I am guessing that there will be few pancake suppers in church fellowship halls across the nation today.  Even if we could make it safe to assemble, much of the northern 48, as I like to call the rest of the U.S. that's not Florida and Hawaii, are dealing with snow and ice today.

Maybe this year is the year to have this wallop of a winter storm when we can't do much as a group:  no parades, no parties, no pancakes.  But we could do something on a small scale at home.  The holidays of Shrove Tuesday, Carnival, and Mardi Gras have their roots in the self-denial of the Lenten season. These holidays are rooted in the fasting traditions of Lent and the need to get rid of all the ingredients that you'd be giving up during Lent: alcohol, sugar, eggs, and in some traditions, even dairy foods.

Many of us have baking supplies on hand--why not make a Mardi Gras treat that's a cross between a bread and a cake?

Here's a recipe for a simple, yeasted bread that requires no kneading and is relatively healthy, but also sweet.  I'll walk you through it.

Epiphany/Mardi Gras Bread

2 pkg (5 ½ tsp.) active dry yeast
¼ c. warm water
2/3 c. milk
½ c. sugar
1 ½ tsp. salt
½ c. butter
3 large eggs
4 c. flour (can be part or all whole wheat)
2 c. candied fruit, and/or raisins, and/or nuts

In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in the warm water with a tsp. of sugar and the salt.  Give it a few minutes to foam, and then mix in the eggs. In a small heavy saucepan, bring the milk, butter, salt, and sugar to a boil. Once it’s cooled a bit, add the milk mixture to the yeast mixture, along with the flour, and blend.

Add the 2 cups of candied fruit, nuts, and/or raisins—or leave them out. I’ve used candied ginger with great success, and I really like dried cranberries and pecans. You can use more gourmet items, like citron. Or use the candied fruits that make an appearance during the holiday baking season.

The dough will be very sticky; fortunately, you don’t knead it.

Simply let it rise. Grease 2 tube pans or bundt pans.

When the dough has doubled in size, spoon it into the pans. Let it rise again.

If you want to put prizes in the bread, you can do so before you put the bread in the oven. The traditional prize for Mardi Gras is a baby Jesus (if using plastic, stick him into the bread after baking). For Epiphany/Three Kings Bread, some bread bakers include a coin (wrapped in foil) that indicates good luck for the person who finds it. Some put a china baby into the bread. Other customs include a bean, a clove, a twig, a piece of rag. Some traditions have the person who finds the embedded item doing the clean up, some have the person hosting the next party in February at Candlemas or the next year's Mardi Gras party.

Bake at 375 for 25-35 minutes. The dough should be golden, and a toothpick inserted in the center should come out clean.

The bread is delicious plain:

but it’s also good with powdered sugar frosting or glaze.

For Mardi Gras, traditionally you’d sprinkle the icing or glaze with sugar colored purple, green, and/or yellow. 

You can make colored sugar easily at home by stirring food coloring into white granulated (table) sugar:

Based on a recipe found in Beatrice Ojakangas’ The Great Holiday Baking Book

And keep this bread in mind as Christmas rolls around; it's easy for gifts and a reason to celebrate Epiphany on January 6.

The Feast Day of Saint Valentine--AND the Feast of the Transfiguration--on a Sunday in a Pandemic Year

This isn't the first day that Valentine's Day falls on a Sunday. It is the first day for most of us that Valentine's Day falls on a Sunday where it isn't safe to assemble the way that we once did. It is also the Feast Day of the Transfiguration, which falls on the last Sunday before Ash Wednesday. Catholics celebrate the Transfiguration feast day on August 6, and we could spend lots of time analyzing whether or not Saint Valentine deserves to be a saint or deserves to have a feast day or whether or not this day that celebrates romantic love should be mentioned in church services, the church services that a lot of us won't be attending in person for reasons pertaining to disease or snow.

Once I would have written a blog post about how we hope our earthly relationships would transfigure us. In fact, I've written variations of that blog post over and over again. Once I would have written about all the ways we wish we could be transfigured--but do we want to do the work?

Today I'm thinking about this past pandemic year and all the ways it has changed us and our society profoundly. I'm also thinking about the dangerous message that so many of us hear about love, the messages beamed at us that tell us we are not worthy of love, that we must make profound changes so that we can find the love we crave.

I think about what God says about Jesus on the mountain: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!” It reminds us of what happened at the baptism of Jesus, that declaration of love at the beginning, before Jesus has done a thing in terms of ministry. The good news of the Christian gospel is that God feels the same way about all of us.

Many of us (all of us?) crave this kind of complete love. Imagine: we don't have to transform ourselves or bend ourselves into pretzel shapes or become someone we're not to be worthy of this kind of love. We don't have to do a certain set of practices. We don't have to behave in a certain way, in ways that we know we can't sustain. We don't even need to say a formal acceptance. God just loves us this way.

Many of us spend our whole lives yearning to find this kind of love from our fellow humans, and occasionally, we find it for a bit--but most humans find this kind of love unsustainable, particularly when we're trying to love humans who aren't on their best behavior.In the past, I've worried about how Valentine's Day might make people feel excluded. I've thought the church should just ignore this holiday that is designed to make us feel like we must spend gobs and gobs of money to demonstrate our love. But maybe I've overlooked an essential message that preaches well.

Every day, ideally, should be Valentine's Day, a day in which we try to remind our loved ones how much we care--and not by buying flowers, dinners out, candy, and jewelry. We show that we love by our actions: our care, our putting our own needs in the backseat, our concern, our gentle touch, our loving remarks, our forgiveness over and over again.

And sustained by the love that sustains in our homes, we can go out to be a witness that glows with evidence of God's love to the dark corners of the world. Every week, we are reminded of the brokenness of the world, and some weeks the world feels more broken, unfixable. But we can kindle the fires that can transform the world.

On this Valentine's Day, let us go out into the world, living sacraments, to be Valentines to one another, to illuminate the wonders of God's love to a weary world .

New Spiritual Disciplines and Practices for the Twenty-first Century

 For my program that will lead to my certification as a spiritual director, we read one book a month and write a report.  With some of the books, it's like falling through a hole in time; for example, one of them talked about talking to one's spiritual director with a long distance phone call, if one could afford those high rates.

For the last review I wrote this, in response to the question about what stirred my spirit most:  "It may not be the fault of the book, but not much about this stirred my spirit. I liked the reminder that there are a variety of disciplines, but at this point, I’ve heard a lot about these particular disciplines, and I find myself wondering about the kind of book I’d write for the 21st century, the disciplines that are important for our current time. Thinking about that question has stirred my spirit—and in a good way."

We turn in our responses to our small group leader, and she writes the most wonderful replies.  Here's what she wrote to the above response:  "Now, I am wondering when you will be writing a book about current spiritual disciplines!!!!!! What a wonderful gift that would be to all of us - and everyone!!!!! And I have no doubt that you could do just that!!!! Especially with the direction that you are taking right now……Kristin, you have so very much to offer to the Church - Lutheran and United Methodist!!!!! - the entire Church. God has no boundaries for you……This is such a beautiful time of discerning for you…..Blessings are with you as you continue on your journey."

I'm recording this exchange in part because of the praise.  I like having positive voices in reserve for when the negative voices in my head get too loud and shrill.

But I'm also recording it because I like to keep a record of potential writing projects and books.  Of course, I have more ideas than I have time to write in my current lifetime.  But this idea spoke to me:  what are the spiritual disciplines for the 21st century that will take us to the 22nd?

Some of those practices might be the same.  Some are timeless.  But we likely have new practices that would be very unfamiliar to a time traveler arriving from the year 1927--or 1427.

What are they?  I'm not sure yet.  But it's a question that stirs my soul.

Seminary Online Open House

Last night, I went to an online open house at Wesley Theological Seminary last night.  I got the invitation in the late afternoon, and I thought, I should probably do this.  I'm not sure why I thought that.  After all, I'm already working on my application.

I was expecting it to be more of a virtual tour of the campus with a presentation of some sort.  Instead, it was a Zoom meeting with special guests.  A first year student was our special guest for the first half hour, and for the last half, we heard from an academic dean who also teaches a pastoral care class.  I was impressed with the enthusiasm of the first year student.  The professor has been at Wesley for 18 years, which I see as a good sign.  He talked about the difference between conversation in a pastoral care setting (a slower pace, careful and considered), conversation in daily life (not deep), and conversation in a Zoom meeting (more like ping ponging comments).  

What most heartened me about his presentation is that he talked about the seminary's approach to the classes that go deep into the Bible.  He talked about the different contexts that would be considered throughout the course of the class, and by extension the course of seminary study:  the context of the world in which the text that was written, the context of the world of readers, and the context of scholarship.  I was glad to hear that Wesley doesn't insist on the doctrine of Biblical inerrancy.

It does occur to me that those kinds of questions might be ones I should be considering, but I am just so thrilled about the Arts and Theology focus and the fact that the seminary is Methodist, which is much closer to Lutheran theology than many traditions.  Years ago, when I was first wondering if there could be a seminary with an arts and theology focus, I came across a program at Fuller Seminary.  That seminary has an online option, but I have a sense of their conservative theology, and I know that won't work for me.

I was pleased to see the diversity of the people on the Zoom call--almost all of us thinking about seminary, with a person or two who has already committed.  I was most happy to see that they are not all just out of undergraduate school.  I'm not opposed to studying with students who are in their 20's, but I don't want to be the only person at midlife in the room.  And I'm at the far end of midlife--I'm not 40 years old anymore (I'll celebrate my 56th birthday in July).

While the webinar wasn't what I was expecting, in a way, it was much more useful.  I don't really need a virtual tour of the campus or the library, although I would have enjoyed it.  But I already know that I'll love those things.  I was glad to get a chance to see that I will also love my classmates and my professors.

When God Opens Both Doors and Windows

In my path to seminary, I realize that there will be discouraging times, so I want to record the encouraging times so that I have them when I need the fortitude to keep going.  In the past week, I've gotten so much positive feedback when I've told people my plans.  I remember many a spiritual book that suggests/claims that if one gets this kind of feedback, then it may be a bit clearer that one is proceeding in a good direction.

Earlier this week, I looked through the application materials for the seminary part of my plan; the candidacy part involves a different set of paperwork, with some overlap.  The seminary requires 4 letters of recommendation, so I decided to reach out to the people who might be the most likely candidates to write letters, knowing that they might say no for a variety of reasons.

They all said yes!

Yesterday I was on a Zoom conference call with part of the group that plans the Create in Me retreat.  We spent the first part of the call catching up with each other.   I told about my inability to be sure I could attend the retreat because my school is being bought by another school, and I don't know what the new vacation policy will be.  Then without planning to do it, I blurted out,  "And because that's not enough change and upheaval, I submitted my application for candidacy last week."  I said a few sentences about the Theology and the Arts program I'd found, and I was pleased to see the people on the call smile and nodded.

Today let me proceed on some of the pieces that I need to do.  The various essays that I have to write won't write themselves after all.

Meditation on This Sunday's Gospel

The readings for Sunday, February 14, 2021:

First reading
2 Kings 2:1-12

Psalm
Psalm 50:1-6

Second reading
2 Corinthians 4:3-6

Gospel
Mark 9:2-9

In past years, I would have thought about Transfiguration Sunday and the upcoming season of denial and penitence, Lent, that is fast approaching.  Frankly, this year it feels like we've had a whole year of lessons in Lenten denial.

This year, as we read the passage from Mark, we might understand Peter's response a bit better than we have in past years.  I see Peter yearning for time to process what he's seen, to try to make sense of it all, and of course, to prolong the good feeling of being one of the special ones, one of the ones who gets to go up the mountain with Jesus, one of the ones to witness this strange transfiguration.

This past year has been one of those hinge moments in history, where we will clearly see a before and an after.  Right now, we don't know what that after will look like.  Maybe we're scared we'll never get to a place of transfiguration.  Maybe we're scared of what that transfigured world will be.

Maybe we wish we could be like Peter, strong, like a rock, with that gusto and enthusiasm.  Maybe we know that we're just sand, hardly able to hold ourselves and our communities together. the former rock of faith abraded away by the difficulties of life. We know that a house built on sand will wash away with a big storm or with the daily movement of the waves.

But take heart: concrete mixed with sand will be stronger. And where do those of us who are sand find concrete? Often we don't even have to look. Often our family and friends are in their concrete phase when we're in our sand phase. We strengthen each other, even when we're unaware that we're doing it. But how much stronger we could be if we were more intentional.

We can do the work of strengthening each other, even when it's not safe to gather together in a room.  The past year has shown us many ways to be together in community.  The years after the virulence of COVID-19 dies down will be transfiguring too.  We're learning valuable lessons about how to be a community.

Jesus knew the value of community. He knew the human tendency to rush towards transfiguration. We yearn to be different, but so often, we shun the hard work involved. We might embrace transformation before we stop to consider the cost. But if we are surrounded by community, the work transforms into something more festive. If we stay on top of the mountain after the light fades, we may come to feel stranded.

Jesus reminds us again and again that the true work comes not from telling people what we’ve seen, but by letting what we’ve seen change the way that we live. Our true calling is not to be carnival barker, but to get on with the work of repair and building of the communities in which we find ourselves.

We can be the rock, the concrete, the sand. Christ's vision is big enough to transfigure us all.

Ministry or Good Customer Service?

My friend had an aging dog with kidney issues.  Two weeks ago, her dog's health took a quick nosedive, and the dog died by the end of the week.  She posted pictures of the condolence card from her vet.

What impressed me even more was the response of the online pet supply site, Chewy.com.  She had just bought some specialty food on a recurring order basis.  Not only did they cancel the recurring charges, but they also refunded her most recent purchase.  She didn't have to send the food back, even though it was unopened.  No, they refunded her money.

And then they went even further.  The sent her flowers and a candle, along with a card.  Wow.

Some people might be cynical.  Some might take a marketing perspective and say that the company just observed good customer service--and yet, many companies wouldn't take the extra steps of sending flowers and a candle.  Many companies wouldn't even send a card.

I would say that the company was actually practicing a sort of ministry.  We tend to think that ministry only happens in churches.  But if we're alert, we can see that ministry actually happens in all kinds of settings--and it makes for great customer service, if done right.