Contact Us  |  Directions  |  Logon  |  Home 

Ministry  |  Religious Education

DECEMBER - Ministerial Musings

Caroling


On the Saturday before Christmas we went caroling. A motley group of teenagers and adults, we tumbled into Fellowship Hall to collect music, driving directions, and the baskets created by the middle school class as gifts to the people we would visit. We were excited and loud, pumped up on pizza, Christmas cookies, and soda fumes and ready to rock...the high energy that swirls around and through all of us in those days before Christmas was palpable in the room. So before departing, we stood side by side for a moment and took a deep collective breath. We had to stop everything in order to open a space for something else to happen.

As we stood together, I explained to the group that we would carol first at Walter Irvine’s house. While few of the teens knew Walter, most of us know his daughter Deb Bonneau and her husband Dave. In fact, many of the teens had grown up singing in Deb’s Youth Choir. I told them that Walter was dying but that he was very alert; his life had been filled with music from our church just as he had filled our church with music. I explained that the family had asked us to come and sing and that they would open Walter's window so that he could hear our carols. I reminded us all that this was an important gift we were bringing to this family and that our carols would be a lullaby for Walter.

When we arrived at Walter’s house we sang several carols. And then Deb and Dave came out and asked for a few adults to come inside to stand around Walter’s bed and sing with the family while the larger choir joined from outside. Together we hummed while Walter’s grand-daughter Noelle and her father sang "The First Noel," a song special to the family as Noey was born on Christmas Day. We finished by softly humming “Silent Night” as Dave sang “Night of Silence.”

As we drove away from Walter's house we talked about how hard it had been to sing, knowing that Walter was dying and that his family was grieving his leaving them. And yet, I told them, it isn't often in life that we get to do something this real. We had been privileged to be present in a completely real moment and we had, with our songs, done something that truly mattered. As he listened to us sing, Walter closed his eyes and smiled. He was peaceful. He was surrounded by a family and a congregation that loved him. And he was touched and pleased that we had come. As I slipped from the room he took Deb’s hand and murmured, “It was so nice of them to come.”

We continued our caroling and we sang to Eric Carlson, who greeted us at the door with gifts of candy and cards, then on to Russ Kay who had just come home from the Rehab Center with his new kidney. Russ beamed when he saw us. "I have so missed singing with you," he told us as he stepped out onto his snowy steps in his bedroom slippers to raise his voice with ours. We ended the day visiting Dean Bailey at the Sunrise Center where we entered a locked floor and sang outside Dean’s room. Our songs were loud and cheerful and residents came from up and down the halls to hear us. It was an amazing day for all of us.

And that’s how it happened that a motley crowd of teenagers and adults from this congregation discovered a space inside the bustle and the chaos of the season to offer and share something entirely real….. what a blessing to have opportunities like this in our lives.

, DRE
NOVEMBER - Ministerial Musings

As we turn toward the holidays and gather with family and friends for Thanksgiving, my heart hears the words of author Plec Ayer.

"May we remember, as we long on, that half the world's people have never used a telephone, and recall, as we chatter, that most of those around us have no change to speak or move as they choose.  May we recall that more than a billion beings live without food, and that as many children live amidst poverty and war.

May we have the strength to questions our own gods, and the grace to respect others'; may we, on a globe that is shrinking and expanding, honor our differences, while finding a language in which to speak of them together.  May we recall that the responsibility of the fortunate is to answer the prayers of others, and the privilege of the blessed is to make cause for general gratitude; may we sing hymns for the opportunities we often ignore and say hallelujahs to the moments that are every-day gifts.

May we speak to the best in our neighbors and attend to the worst in ourselves; may be have the courage to leaven compassion with discernment, and the sense to make knowledge dance with innocence.

May we, above all, in the clamor of the moment, find a space to recollect what we treasure, and a silence in which to recall the fact that progress, fundamentally, takes us backward, toward the essential and the deep.  And may we continue, amidst the acceleration and opportunities of the moment, to see what exists beyond all moments, and to rejoice in the wise souls in our midst...whose challenges and injunctions and reminders answer our petitions and our needs, while leaving use with questions it is our duty--our pleasure--to take home." (from Prayers for a Thousand Years, ed., by Elizabeth Roberts and Elias Amidon, p. 127)

Blessing to you.  Happy Thanksgiving.