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Note: This was written on Thursday, July 7. This week, I expect to catch the blog publication of Thursday Thoughts up with the email distribution to the two congregations. (By the way: Sophia, Millie, and Helen, mentioned below, sit in the front row at Brownsville. The very public, very proud average age of these three saints is 98. Balancing them demographically, the average age of Blain, Lucien and Maclaren, in the back row, is 7.)


Dear household of God at Brownsville and Tracyton,

In my Thursday Thoughts, I want to share some of what  I’m learning, what I’m seeing, and what I’m wondering, with both the Brownsville and Tracyton congregations.

This week, I’ve learned:

  • In Brownsville, I’ve learned that some of the liveliest members are also some of the most senior: my gosh, Sophia, Millie, and Helen, you’ve got stories to tell, prayers and concerns and love to share!
  • Brownsville’s people care about the church, whether they attend it or not. A 4th-of-July night phone call forwarded from the church phone let me know that people were doing fireworks in the church parking lot. Had a nice in-person visit with the caller on Tuesday morning, and thanked her for the call.
  • Tracyton: you made a BIG adjustment in worship time, with grace and commitment. Forty-nine of you gathered for the 9:00 service last Sunday — 23 from the old 8:30 service, and 26 from the old 11:00! Good job! Didn’t it feel good having the sanctuary so full that you had to decide where to sit? Wasn’t it fun being able to hear ourselves sing?

This week, I’ve seen God at work:Some of Wes's family at Wollochet Bay, July 4

  • In holy conversations of caring about some of our more vulnerable church family members.
  • In just-as-holy conversations in 4th-of-July gathering of my extended family.
  • In the way people’s lives can move through grief or other wounding, into a new kind of wholeness.

This week, I’ve wondered:

  • How we learn to call a new congregation, and a new pastor, “our” congregation, “our” pastor.
  • How to keep the beautiful vision of the Beloved Community before us, when we are so deeply enmeshed with systemic hate, violence, and a reliance on injustice.

What are you learning? What are you seeing? What are you wondering?

Katherine Parker speaking at Tracyton UMC           This evening, Thursday the 7th, I’d like you to meet my cousin Katherine. Katherine Parker is a United Methodist missionary serving in Nepal [Note: this link from Paul Jeffrey contains a video of Katherine’s work, at the end of the article; it’s mostly about last year’s Nepal earthquakes, and the work of recovery.] She’ll be at Tracyton UMC this evening for a simple meal at 6:00 and a 7:00 program. Katherine is one of the best spokespersons for Missions you’ll ever meet. I hope you can come!

I look forward to seeing you again in worship this Sunday at Tracyton, 9:00 a.m., and at Brownsville, 11:00 a.m. To prepare, you may want to review the prophet Amos, especially chapter 7, and Luke 10:25-37, the parable we call “the good Samaritan.”

Next Tuesday, July 12, you’re welcome to join with me for Word on the Street lunch and conversation at Putter’s, at Rolling Hills Golf Course on McWilliams. We’ll be considering a key scripture or idea for the coming Sunday’s worship service.

Love,

Wes

[NOTE: As of July 1, I’m appointed to serve as pastor of both the Tracyton church, where I’ve been pastor for four years, and the Brownsville church, 5 miles away across our little peninsula. It’s a large transition for me, and for both congregations. I’m picking up a Brownsville traditional communication, the weekly “Thursday Thoughts,” to keep folks in touch with where we are — where I am — through this time of transition. The “Thursday Thoughts” are emailed, and put up on the Brownsville web page, but sharing them here makes sense, too.]


Thursday, June 30, 2016

Dear sisters and brothers,

The “Thursday Thoughts” email was initiated in the Brownsville congregation to keep the church updated during a major funding project a few years back.

I love the idea! In fact, I love it so much, I think I’ll spread the joy, and share Thursday Thoughts in the Tracyton congregation as well.

Change happens. You make a change, you’re done. Get a new shirt, you have a new shirt. Trade in the car, the new one fits where the old one was.

Transition, however, is another matter. Transition is how our minds are a-swim and our eyes are boggling, and we can’t remember who we are or what we’re looking for in the bookcase, or why we’re gathering for song, and prayer, and a few words, and a meal of bread and juice so skimpy it hardly gets the appetite started.

So we are walking through the wilderness of this Transition together, and it helps to pay curious attention to what we’re learning, what we’re seeing, and what we’re wondering.

It’ll vary from time to time, but I’ll be sharing some of my experiences in these areas … and inviting your reflections in return.

This week, I’ve learned:

  • Joe and Susan Tollefson’s infectious enthusiasm and their love of their Brownsville church’s story
  • More of who Sally Klein is, as she stayed in the Stanton/Bogue one-star motel and shared rides to and from Puyallup for Annual Conference where she served as Tracyton’s Lay Member
  • and, via Geoff Colvin’s Humans Are Underrated, I’ve learned that we humans need physical presence, not just phone & Facebook, and that empathy is a skill that can be learned.

This week, I’ve seen God at work:

  • in the Annual Conference’s difficult, grace-filled conversations and risky, courageous decisions
  • in a friend’s joy as she received communion at Conference for the first time in years, because it felt to her like a truly welcoming body for the first time
  • in Hildegard’s sharing the story of the Brownsville Garden Club with me (okay, this was actually a couple weeks ago, but Oh! What a holy project, helping kids learn the value of caring for plants’ growth, the earth’s health, and the value of patience and partnership).

This week, I’ve wondered:

  • Uh-oh. There’s a problem. When I get too busy, I tend not to wonder enough. Wonder and curiosity are related to awe and worship. So are delight in the exquisite, lament for the tragic, breathing deep in times of serenity, and the desire to allow the Mystery to unfold and to enfold me.
  • One place I’ve come close to holy wonder this week is in opening Rebecca Solnit’s book, A Field Guide to Getting Lost. I’m halfway through … which means, I’m totally awestruck with amazing writing, lost in it, and not at all sure how I will be changed when I arrive out the other side.

This is how Transition is. When we find ourselves oriented again, (to paraphrase Solnit) we cease to be lost not by returning, but by turning into something else.

This week I wonder: Who will I become? Who will we become?

Love,

Wes

For me, the past weekend was a time of family celebrations and road-tripping across Washington. Thus, I was only briefly aware of the murders in Orlando, and haven’t had time to sit with the reality of it until today.

Because I was away, I was didn’t have the responsibility in worship yesterday morning to put it all together, do instant theology, make quick sense. I didn’t have opportunity to write post a statement on Facebook, or to read more than a very few. I watched very little news. I’m blessed to have been prevented from rushing to righteous anger and self-righteous posturing. (My anger and posturing are mellowed 36 hours to perfection?)

But more than ever, I am feeling the emptiness of those pat statements we make, things like “Our thoughts and prayers are with … .” Especially the statements by politicians, but also by preachers, and other partners in faith communities. Continue Reading »

Incredible find!

Rare Wesley Hymn Fragment
Found in Farmhouse

Charles WesleyA manuscript fragment found in a Cotswold farmhouse under restoration appears to be the first draft of an unpublished hymn by Charles Wesley (1707-1788).

The draft, in Wesley’s own hand, includes several edits, with whole lines crossed out and re-written. Only the first verse is relatively intact. The refrain, however, is un-altered. Cambridge hymnologist Edmund Wren, who authenticated the manuscript, writes, “It’s quite clear that the refrain is the inspiration for the hymn. The verses are only an afterthought.”

Wesley was a prolific hymnodist, with over 6,000 hymns published in his lifetime. With his brother John (1703-1791) he is considered a co-founder of the Methodist movement. Charles Wesley is known to have visited the Methodist Societies of the Cotswolds several times in the mid-1700s, spending several weeks there with his wife Sally in the summer of 1754 after her devastating battle with smallpox. “The refrain’s profession of steadfast faithfulness to God mirrors Wesley’s steadfast devotion to Sally,” Wren notes.


Lord, Thy Prevenient Grace we Know

        88 88 88   (refrain 77 74 77 74)
Lord, Thy prevenient grace we know,
Both love and law within our heart.
A full commitment we would show;
Our sole Redeemer Friend Thou art!
Thy faithfulness to us we feel,
And ours to Thee, O such a deal!
refrain
Never shall we give you up,
Never shall we let you down,
Never shall we run around and desert you.
Never shall we make you cry,
Never shall we say goodbye,
Never shall we tell a lie and hurt you
CW
First day of April, A.D. 1754
Down Astley, Glouc.

Turn, turn

Labyrinth at Franciscan Retreat Center, Scottsdale, AZI really like those blasts from our pasts that Facebook invites us to share. This is the labyrinth at the Franciscan Renewal Center in (of all incongruous places) Scottsdale, Arizona. Facebook reminded me that I was there for an Alban Institute training five years ago.

I tend to walk labyrinths, and other paths of prayer, barefoot. It helps ground me. It slows me down. There’s a sole / soul connection.

Sometimes it hurts. The Scottsdale sand is hard packed, coarse-grained, just a bit painful on my usually-protected feet — but Ah! there were fresh hoofprints that morning. (Deer? Javelina!)
(The labyrinth at the Whidbey Institute, by contrast, is worn into a grass lawn, and when I walked it, was deliciously cool, damp soil.)

A bit of Hopkins’ sonnet, “God’s Grandeur,” speaks of the degradation of earth by our action, and our alienation from earth:

“The soil is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.”

And then comes the poem’s turning point.

Taking off my shoes, becoming re-grounded, is a turning point.
Walking the labyrinth is an exercise in turning.
The lines that follow are after the turning point of the poem.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Hopkins could sense this in the 1800s. Perhaps we will too, when we take off our shoes, and turn.


*Maybe this post sounds extra-familiar to you. I wrote it for Facebook on Nov. 17. It’s more a blog post than a Facebook post, though, don’t you think?
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