Saturday, 20 December 2008

Blessings to the High Low Places

I know I know your thinking you never write you never call and here you are in the last few days posting like a woman unleashed. It is as much I suppose about a search for meaning, context and understanding.

As I write today I am again in work (I know it is a Saturday) I have icon class soon yet here I am just getting the last service sheets together for tomorrows recreated Christingle come Nativity service I have got together.
Okay todays context, outside of my window I am watching the rain bucket down on Christmas Shopers. On the headphones is a bazar mix of old Mary Mary renditions of 'Shackles" and all blessings be to Spanky who yesterday introduced me to Sufjan Stevens Holy Holy Holy. And yes I think you could do much worse than hook into YouTube and have a listen http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R-liS9e2IY8 .

And Christchurch being Christchurch we have sadly another murder of a young woman . I used to resist saying another prostitute is murdered because the sensationalism of her occupation made the reality of her humanity invisable. So between the creation of Nativity services I have been searching the net to see if there is a photo of her incase she is one of the sex workers I say hello to in the morning on my way to work. I recall the memorial of Suzie Sutherland of the letter her parents sent that was read out to this church full of prostitues, dealers, pimps, street people, her lovers and her friends. How many of them will be gathering again for Ngatai's funeral?

Seems a sad yet appropriate context to introduce my last meditation for Advent. Today if the rain would not wash it away I would write in chalk on the pathments of Manchester Street. To you who work on these streets please please be take care of yourselves you are important. You are loved.

I am here again Lord.
No matter how much I tell myself this year it will be different I still find myself on this night frequenting these High low places.
Not that you ever try to stop me, “We all have our way of sitting Shiva with those who wait for the light” you say.
For me it is to be pulled to the edge places.
To bear witness to humanities yearning for the new dawn.
When I was younger I frequented the Great Cathedrals of the world, circled spires and lay across great arches. At other times I would find myself in the belfries of humble worship, in houses no bigger than the stable in which Christ came forth clothed in a woman’s blood.

Be it a mega church or humble house - as on this night as in the very first night, I come to watch over the prayers of those drawn to the light.
To see their prayers as smoke curl from their lips carried high into the arms of the creator.

On this night I come down low, hover over those in prayer and finally settle next to a pillar I watch as the everyday drama of prayer- humanities hymns to the silence unfold.

Few see me, the occassional babe in arms - fingers reaching out - faces alight, the old blind priest still going after all these years.
He pauses beside me “So unearthly thing” he says “Have you come today to take me to my creator?”.
I smile it is the same question he asks of me every year “Not tonight old man”, he is after all not mine to take.
“This night I come to hear the prayers of the faithful and the lost”, he humphs and shuffles along.

Tonight there are prayers both sublime and rediculous.
To the side sits a woman hands clasps tight she prays for patience, that her fear for the future not be spat out at her husband recently laid off. In the front sits the old man begging to be taken, so he may be reuntited with his beloved wife gone long before.
For the out of place woman with three toned hair the prayer is for a friend found facedown in the river, while the eight year old one seat back practices looking unimpressed as she prays that tomorrow she wont be made to sit next to her aunt that dribbles at dinner.
As the numbers gather there voices build

Lord make me pretty,
Stop me from drinking,
Give me pajamas with feet in them,
Help my son in prison,
Give us enough money for presents for the Children,
God I hope it was quick,
Take away my grandsons asthma,
Give us the contract at work,
Don’t let my husband find out what I have done,
Give me one more day I know I can win back the rent,
Take my daughters cancer away,
Let me know if you exsist,
Tell me is this all there is?
Help me tell my mother I am pregnant again,
Make the news happy today,
Find my boy a job,
Remind me why I stay,
Just take all this away,
What should I make for Christmas dinner,
Im so tired,
Just do something,
Thank you…

That stops me

Thank you! It is not just the words but the intent that pulls me close,
so heart felt, so full... ripe.
Ah but the intent... that spins me back to the night in the stable when we kept vigil. For that moment when our bodies shuddered at the cries of birthing , and we angels in the rafters clung together praying with the same need heard again here tonight.
Please let the child king would be born with breath.

The Birthing Prayer of Mary rang in our ears as she called out...
"May it be your will, Adonai my God and God of my ancestors, that you will ease these pains for me,
Make me strong,
increase the strength of my baby boy.
Ease my birth,
Birth me to motherhood Abba as I birth our babe,
Bring him out into the air without harm.
Make him be of good fortune bought into this life,
Fill him with peace,
Make him healthly and grow him to be an honourable man, as is the father you have provided on earth,
May my child find grace in Your eyes and in the eyes of all your creations.
May this child's life fulfill the verse:
"God sets the childless woman among her household as a happy mother of children. Hallelujah."
May my husband and I raise this child to serve You.
May we merit to teach this child your holy Torah,
to have peace and comfort, honour and rest.
Guard us, my baby and I, that we will not come to harm.
May You strengthen my courage, my strength, and my might, as it says:
"My Lord, my life-breath is revived.
You have restored me to health and revived me." Amen."

And then in the midst of this panting prayer there came the moment when
tears and prayers were released and fulfilled. When pain before us was transformed into sobs, then gulps, to gasps…and then all three at once all overarched with such sweet delight and thanks that we could not help but call out to the world in glory and light up the sky.

Not that they noticed. For them it was not the wonder that woke the neighbour and turned wise men towards Bethlehem, it was the miracle of a babe taken in his fathers arms and held up to Yahweh in blessing.
It was the tiny curled fist and the widest yawn that transfixed a mothers eyes, calling each movement to the attention of his earthly father.

And to the world a King was born that night, the fulfillment of joy and prophecy.

Thousands of years past and here in a down town church I am reminded of that moment in a prayer of thanks by a lone woman in prayer.
The baby in her belly is a gift unexpected, joy personified.
Perfect even in its imprerfection?
But they know this already, she still clasps the brochure in her hand, down syndrome…

Yet even in this reality her prayer turns not to ‘please God fix my baby’,
but to thanks for the gift of life inside her.
Many will walk away from a baby not perfect in their sight even though all are perfect in the sight of their creator.
Some will stare at one who does not look like the others.
Others will see sorrow and punishment for Gods perfect gift seen through the eyes as imperfection.
But in this place, on this day, in the midst the prayers of demanding
The pleases,
And the shoulds,
And the makes,
And the whys,
And the help,
And the do God,
And the don’t.
In humanities imperfection, the timeless miracle continues to unfold, seen once more in the face of a new babe in arms reminder of the coming of a new day.

As witnessed by an angel on this night and in a woman consumed by the thankfulness and blessed by the love of God

Blessings Megan

Friday, 19 December 2008

To the Outskirts of Bethlehem

Today looking out of my office window on the forth floor the rain splashes down (my favourite weather) and I am listening to a nostalgia trip with Faith No More's rendition of Easy, Jeff Buckley's version of Hallelujah and the Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra.

Yesterday I posted one of the meditations from my Advent Series. One of things I have thought about is what it was like for Mary and Joseph on the way to Bethlehem. What they said to each other, how well they knew each other. Any way the follow piece came from those ponderings.
I try not to say too much - to be annoying.
After all we don’t know each other that well… not as husband and wife.

Although in someway he has always been around, be it fixing our roof, or laughing out loud with the other men at a wedding feast.
Not ours though.

When the match was made I would peak from behind the curtain to see what he ate, how he prayed and provided, to imprint on my heart what it was that made him smile.

Just as my mother did before her wedding, I would look to his callused hands to see how soft they became when he cradled a child.
These are the things a woman in my village look for in a man.

Now though in this place - at this time, I am no longer sure of this stoic man who walks beside me.
Away from my mothers arms I am unsure how angry he may really be,
Yet no harsh words has he aimed in my direction.
No doubt has he cast on my claims out loud.
And for that gracious God …
I am most grateful in your choice of husband for me.

Last night we camped along the road side with some of his cousins, I heard them joke about how lucky he was to have such a pretty young wife.
But then I guess they don’t know what the rest of his family think of me.

Today I find myself even more grateful for the presence of my silent saviour. For without his care of me, and belief in our sacred charge, my fate would be that of the women we pass on our way.

The outcast, the lost, and the dead.

He has saved my life, - and aside from being kind of old, I know I am in the safest place possible out here on the road to Bethlehem, and away from the rising ire of those who once held me dear.

He says little - speaks more encouragement to the donkey on which I sit than to me!
At first I tried to make conversation, but what is there to say that can encompass that which is both too big and so small.

In the every day do I say “Excuse me husband but my butt has cramp and I am wondering if you can have a look at my toes and tell me if they indeed exist it has been so long since we met”

I sigh, and for a brief moment my stone faced husband smiles “My Miriam who would have ever thought I had married such a quiet wife, if you keep this up I will be the envy of all the men of Nazareth!”
We laugh for a moment and as night comes it is with relief and affection that I let such strong hands lift me down. Such a man you have given me to father our son on earth dear Lord.

Camping on the outskirts of Bethlehem surrounded by the cooking fires of fellow travellers we pull back the tent flap so the stars and the moon may shine down upon us, Joseph knows the stars by name.

Peace at last.
On the edge of sleep feel his hand on my belly “Sleep Miriam mine, God has gifted me you both to care for, and tonight at least all is well in the world.


Blessings on the Journey

Megan

Thursday, 18 December 2008

I like this place on the hill

Here is the meditation I wrote that was published in the Advent Christmas resource Hands of Light. I was imaging what it was like to sit on a hill and watch the story of Joseph and Mary unfold.

I like this place here on the hill.
This crevice in the rock carved out by thee and me has been my shelter from heat and rain all the days of my life.
From here I can see all my sheep.

My people in the village try to beg me to come down in winter,
but more than a night by the fire and I am restless for my place in the rock.
You gave it to me so that I may watch over them.
So I may provide meat for worship and feast days,
so I may witness dramas and miracles.

It is not lonely up here on the hillside,
both people and sheep I know and address by name.
But when it comes to conversation, it is the sheep that make more sense to me.

For two cycles of the moon there has been trickery swirling over the sleeping folk below. Yahweh’s work it is sure, strange and wondrous dabblings true - the outcome uncertain.

What is known to us all, is that soft moments
between the house of Joachim and the house of Joseph
have become sharp and distant.
My father always told me
“When women pass each other without pause for conversation,
turn and run for the hills for the very earth itself may split open and swallow you up!”

Three times this night I have watched Joseph-the-tree, gentle up to the door of his betrothed only to walk away without seeking entrance, shoulders bowed.
On such nights the sounds of a prayer so soft, so full of aching, that only the angels themselves could decipher the words is whispered against the rock.


Few may know the reason for such pain,
but not one person in the neighborhood sleeps undisturbed,
as prayers rich with questions too raw to be spoken loudly,
make their way through the night.

Yes there is trouble in the houses of Joachim and Joseph,
and that means trouble for us all.

In light of this it takes a long time before Joseph-the-tree makes his way up the track to my place in the rock. A man without stealth or guile, he stumbles and grunts, announcing his presence before he appears at my fire.
I sooth my now restless sheep “It is just Joseph-the-tree disturbing your sleep. Rest all will be well with the world”.
There is anger in his eyes at my words,
yet split open it gives way to the sorrow I have witnessed bend this upright man.

Such conversations as with sheep are demeaned by speaking,
and so we sit and watch over the restlessness of those below.

When such emotions do form into speech, they sit in his mouth for a long time.
“But I still love her”

It is said.

So that is what Yahweh has been up to!
‘But I still love her’
In the defeat is shown the way forward, there is still love.
Who in rightness with God, can not find in his heart, forgiveness for one so blessed.

As we sit I recall to Joseph how it was when I was first called up here to care for the flock.
It was not the life I had planned, yet “the needs of all were important” said my grandfather “sacrifices had to be made”.
I spoke of how I had rebelled and in anger struck out at these dumb creatures. This was a story new to Joseph; to him I had never been anything but old and bent.

“There was one sheep in particular that goaded me. A ewe stubborn and wild. She was one of my uncle’s prized animals. Prized or not, all I saw was a stubborn sheep that ran me all over these hills for no better reason than she thought I needed the exercise. When a storm would come she would force me out into the rain to search for her, when wild beasties came close she would run towards them until I was sure she wanted nothing more than to see me dead!”. That raised a smile.

“As my feet got harder and my legs stronger I would look down at you all below less and less with envy. Here I saw things in a new way. I could see who spoke to whom, or who didn’t … I saw the young women of the village laugh together as I never could see when I was amongst it all ... I saw the spirit weave in and out of our lives … and I saw how the villages would wave up to me- there faces reassured that they and the flock were cared for and watched over.”

“The sheep were, well, still sheep, yet more and more I realised how we would come to depend on each other. They warned me, as much as I protected them. Not just my life revolved around their well being, but all our lives.”

“Then one night, on a night very similar to this I returned from the village to discover that that pesky ewe had once more gone missing. It had taken me longer to return than usual as the path I normally took had slipped away. Already I knew that this would be where I would find her. Sure enough as I got closer I saw her she trotted faster and faster in the opposite direction.

I knew the path that she was heading toward was no more, if I chased after her she would fall to her death. Yet if I did nothing it still may happen. What was I to do? After all this sheep had caused me much pain since I had come to care for her”.

Joseph poked at the fire as I paused for effect.

“But you know I could not let her die, in her own way she had become a part of my day... if she died, I may have an easier life, but the whole flock would be diminished”.

“Well what could you do? You’ve said you couldn’t chase after her!”

“Nothing so I fell to my knees and I called to her- angrily at first and then gently...”

“Pesky sheep” I said
“Stop! Come to me,
if you go down there you will die and there are those who will miss you…
if you run that way you will fall down the hill and uncle will be mad…
and I will become lazy…
we need you pesky sheep…
your flock needs you…
I need you!”

“And she came back?”

“No not at first,
she made me wait so long I thought she had died.
And I am not afraid to say that I sat in that sheep track and I sobbed like a babe…
I sobbed for what I had hoped for that was not to be …
for the sense of responsibility that caring for these blasted sheep placed upon me…
and for the fear that sat inside me daily that I could not carry it...
most of all I sobbed for a stubborn sheep
that had yet to tell me her name.”

“But she came back …tell me she didn’t die!”

“Yes she came back and I held her tightly and I cried into her fleece”

“And she loved you and let you lead her back?”

“No she ate my breakfast and walked back with me following behind.
Trust my friend takes time to develop”.

The fire crackled as Joseph-the-tree stood and looked out in the night.
“Go to she who is most blessed tree man, you have a journey before you I think”.

All night I stayed awake watching the village as it fell into a peaceful sleep.

Just before dawn Joseph and Mary, the daughter of Joachim headed out with a donkey towards Bethlehem. From my crevice in the rock I saw them pause and wave. I waved back. On this morning all was well with the world.


Monday, 15 December 2008

A mix of here and there

All prayers greatly accepted today. I wait, still not accepted into varsity as institutions quibble over acceptance of marks for courses. This is no easy place to sit in the middle of waiting. I have done all I can but at the last post I feel not pipped but more than a little bound.

The season has hit me, the grief and the joy. Today I am asked to pray for a mother whose baby girl is born with a heart defect and dies. Such grief for a family who had looked so forward to a first baby at Christmas. So much investment, so many prayers now seen as lying fallow.

Then a young girl eight months pregnant is bought to my attention as a father in law demands her marriage now because although she is a sinner the baby deserves to be born 'clean'. I think of her and look over at my Nativity icon on my noticeboard. Some things never change Mary.

As I come to terms with being a hoarder and having to pack up house I can not help but look at the place I have grown up in. Christchurch the dark city of New Zealand home of pilgrims and prostitutes.
And I wonder...
I wonder if the darkness that is this city
Will sit in my blood when I have left this place
If the fierce light of late night scuffles will rise in my eyes
As it has in so many others when pressed against a wall

There is a price to pay for living in a feral place
A payment made at birth
This darkness so familiar so a part of us
Once clearly seen, we can but spend the rest of our lives
trying to outrun it.

Today I put in my resignation for work, next week I will go to the Blue Christmass and weep. Then fortified it will be onward into the light.

Blessings Megan

Tuesday, 9 December 2008

Its a Heartache

A very short post. An old friend of mine was on a film shoot in Wellington and sent me this link to the shoot. Turn up the music and enjoy the sounds of 'The Wellington International Orchestra'

May you be filled with smiles

Shalom

Megan

Saturday, 15 November 2008

A new place

As I wait for my supervisees to arrive for my next meeting I find a moment to catch up on my trip to Auckland this week where I attended the Womens Studies Centre Council meeting. This was my first real hands on experience of the three tikanga church. As the meeting was held at college it gave me the opportunity to see where I will spend the next three years living/worshipping/studying at St Johns College.

It was lovely to meet up with people I had not seen for some time. Staying with a friend who indulged my tourist need to see the city at night. And then on another soft evening to I head off with a fellow Christchurch student currently in Seminary to St Helliers bay, where we sat overlooking the harbour eating fresh fish and catching each other up with college life.

The college itself was beautiful to the extent where I became a total tourist out with the camera every time I saw a lizard or a parrot in the garden.

Aside from the Womens Studies Committee this was a chance for me to meet with the interim Dean to discuss college. Me being me I had an interesting moment of Meganisms when I found myself answering his question of "are you multilingual" with "Oh yes I speak anglo-catholic and evangelical!". Long pause follows...
The Women's Studies Committee was my first real opportunity to experience the three tikanga church in action. For those of you either not Anglican or from overseas here in Aotearoa New Zealand we have three ArchBishops who jointly represent the church whilst individually representing the Maori, Polynesian and Pakeha strands of the church.

It struck me as I type here today that my response to the multilingual question the day before was not as silly as it sounded. The WSC meeting allowed me to see how although there are words in common that culturally we all came at issuses with different understandings. This was particulary noticable for me in the women from different pacific countries. In some areas workshops with words like leadership and empowerment were fine to use in a title, where for others they were a total no go. For some people you went directly to individuals if you wanted them to get information, in others any information must go through an intermedery such as the Mothers Union or the AAW. I can see that there are many different languages and nuances for me to learn over the next few years.

Monday, 10 November 2008

A fractured day

Well an interesting time at present..although as I say this there have been few really uninteresting times when I think about it. Lets see since the last post...
I have been falling in love again with the DVD 'Searching for the Wrong Eyed Jesus' this week and listening to a mixture of Beck (a birthday gift) a little childhood nostalgia with some Gordan Lightfoot, and finally much to the annoyance of all around me a mix of disco classics and Christmas music...sigh what a troubled child I must be.

The sorting has begun on what to take to Seminary, oh I wish I hadn't been such a hoarder! I finished my meditation for the Advent publication coming out shortly. In the end I did a meditation based on a shepherd who watches over the houses of Mary and Jesus just after the Annunciation. I have begun tossing around the concept of a book with a theologian friend of mine where she would write a teaching piece to a particular Biblical story and I would write a meditation.

Today I had coffee with a friend of mine with a brain tumor we spoke about another couple of young women with terminal cancer one who died yesterday and one for whom each day is a gift to us all. We talked about grief and hope about intervention and leaving. About how she wasn't scared of dying she just didn't want to leave people filled with grief. We talked planning funerals and having fun. And her joy that her friend who had just died was baptised a couple of weeks ago.
A gift in what has otherwise been a fractured day.

Tomorrow I am up at St Johns College for a meeting on the Women's Studies Centre and to meet with the Dean to talk about next year.

God thank you for the pain and the joy, the laughter and tears and for living in a place where the hard thing is having such an abundance that we throw things away.

Wednesday, 15 October 2008

Expectations on Ordination Training - Oh My!

Well my local ordination training group met the other night in what was a rather full on session on training for the future. I would have to say that the bar training wise has certainly been raised!

I was reminded of when I was studying Gestalt Psychotherapy years ago and the saying of one of my teachers “There is a knife edge between fear and excitement”. I think most of us had elements of both, yet I am left with an overall feeling of excitement.

My understanding- which by the way was hurried and I am sure missed things, is for a graduate level knowledge of:
New and Old Testament
Basic Greek, Hebrew or both
Church History covering: Early Church, Middle Ages, Reformation, Anglican Communion – formation, Modern Church

Systematic Theology
Christology
Pneumatology
Sacramental Theology
Moral Theology and Christian Ethics
A sound knowledge and comfortable use of the Anglican Liturgies and NZ Prayer book
Age specific ministry i.e. children and young people

Three month internship full time in a parish before ordination.
1 CPE or chaplaincy experience
1 cross cultural experience overseas
Leadership skills both in being and raising up leaders was emphasized as was the importance of people skills.

Expectations upon us personally were also raised in the sense of:
Doing the daily offices – which is pretty much a given anyway
Having a regular time of meditation
Having regular spiritual direction
Regular church attendance and taking of sacraments
To live a life of careful stewardship of creation
Regular giving
Looking after the body God has given us – right eating drinking exercise and rest. As well as moral codes to live by.

As I said earlier I was nervous about the fact that in the head space I was in I may put my foot in it. And although I didn’t quite stuff it up, referring to the study of numerology as opposed to Pneumatology I hope was overlooked!

We did do some interesting Bible study with the Bishop and later some visualization on what came to mind when we thought of ourselves in ministry.

So although I will miss people here and the thought of having to pack a house of crap up is daunting from a study perspective I am so excited about the future and training for ministry.
Now all I need to do in the next fews days is finish my assignment on Isaiah and write a meditation for a publication being put together here for Advent. With a cup of tea in your hands prozac and a prayer anything is possible!

Friday, 10 October 2008

God Help Those Around Me

Today is a day when I am putting my foot in it. Nothing I say seems to come out the right way and I can see myself leaving a path of clumsy destruction in my wake. My bumbled apologies seem only to make things worse and I would seriously consider locking myself away in a dark room and sleeping if the majority of staff had not decided to take the day off and leave only one person to cover reception.

To be honest it’s probably not just today. My uncoordinated verbal bumbling has been going on for a few days coupled with a less than gracious attitude that has simmered beneath my tight smiling exterior for people who seem to annoy me for no other reason than they are breathing and I am a total wench at the moment when stressed.

This weekend we have the Diocesan Ordination Training. Bishop Victoria is coming this evening to speak to us for the first time as a group. I would rather be a little more in charge of myself at what is a pivotal meeting for us and our future. When all else fails I think it is perhaps best to resort to silence and a really big can of V.
Lord give me the patience,
The words,
The wisdom to shut up,
And blessings upon all I stumble over in the days ahead.

Meg stumbling about in the wind in search of sanctuary.

Thursday, 9 October 2008

My Kingdom for some space

Well there is certainly a lot to think about at the moment. People around me have as much as possible adjusted to us moving to Auckland. I am aware of the little community builder in me that at such times thinks of what it will take to settle in comfortably there. Shawn has found a church for himself, being a part of the vineyard movement he is in Wimber heaven with 7 churches to choose from.

What sits with me at the moment is a desire to find a creative community either some where to paint or learn. Ideally I would like to find a fellow icon writer in Auckland. One of the painful sides of leaving Christchurch is that I will not be able to study under Father Acardy here who had agreed to teach me the traditional Russian way of icon writing. I have some grief over that as I saw in his work something extraordinary.

So I am trying to be patient and not jealous that he is talking about having a school here in Christchurch. If anyone knows of a teacher of icons in Auckland please please let me know.

Aside from that I now have a hectic study schedule (see below) which I hope will make sense as to why I have not written here for some time. Blessings

Megan
HS101 Assignment 3. Due Date: 15 October 25%
Write an essay of 2000 words: First, outline the historical background within which Second Isaiah ministers. Then, describe the major themes found in his writing (Isaiah 40‑5 5). Finally, what is his central message?

MM102 ASSIGNMENT Three DUE DATE: 28th October 20%
Completion of 2 worksheets which will be based on questions related directly to the course reader.

NT101 ASSIGNMENT ONE – Part Two
DUE DATE: 10th November LESSONS 8‑14 15% Course Log

NT101 ASSIGNMENT FOUR DUE DATE 15th December 40%
For Sandra Schneider’s the challenge facing New Testament interpretation is to find a way(s) that "can ground a reading of the text that is unreservedly critical, on one hand, and that interacts meaningfully with the personal and communal spiritual life of the believing reader ..." (Sandra Schneider’s Revelatory Text, 13).[Select one of the following texts and show how a new reading or interpretation is possible when new critical questions are asked of the text from a particular perspective (hermeneutic). Show that you that understand the questions raised by the hermeneutic which you chose and then demonstrate your understanding by applying that hermeneutic to the scripture passage:
Either: A Liberation Hermeneutic: Luke 6:20‑26 (make brief reference to other linked texts/verses in Luke)
Or: A Feminist Hermeneutic: Matthew 15:21‑28 (make brief reference to other linked texts/verses in Matthew)
Or: An Earth Hermeneutic: Matthew 6:9‑14 (make brief reference to other linked texts/verses in Matthew)
Or: An Earth Hermeneutic: the use of heaven/earth imagery in a particular NewTestament book

HS101 Assignment 4 Due Date: 24th November 35%
This assignment is intended to help you get your head around what you have learned this year. It should be longer than the previous assignments, but its length depends on how much you want to say. You may structure it in any way you like, but follow the advice in the EIDTS Study & Writing Guide. You are expected to reference your quotations correctly.

In what way were the people of Israel different after the Exile?
Consider the following: religious institutions, literary concerns, political structure, attitude to other nations, social situation, role of prophets, attitude to women, self-consciousness, etc. Choose some of these issues and explain how things differed before and after the Exile.

MM102 ASSIGNMENT Four
DUE DATE: Dec 31st 2008 20%
Write a 1500 word Book Review on the Course Text by Cornfield, Margaret Zipse. (1998). Cultivating Wholeness. A Guide to Care and Counselling in Faith Communities. New York, Continuum.

MM102 ASSIGNMENT Five DUE DATE: 20th January 2009 25%
If you were writing a comprehensive theology of pastoral care giving, what biblical resources would you use and why? (This topic must be dealt with thematically, not by simply quoting endless passages from scripture) 1500 words

MM102 ASSIGNMENT Six DUE DATE: Feb 10th 2009 25%
In what ways could you give pastoral care during a rite of passage in your particular cultural context? What will be your pastoral theological understandings underbidding the provision of this care? 1500 words

Wednesday, 1 October 2008

An unsettled day

Yesterday something very disturbing happened. Well more disturbing than usual. A friend of mine who is a priest got home to find his house had been broken in to. What was really disturbing aside from the brake in, was the desercration of his crucifixes. Some had been smashed, some hung upside down, some had had things done to them and were flushed down the toilet. It was an odd break in, only a bottle was taken, the person who had broken in had however totally smashed his lap top in a frenzy. Everything else was left however i.e. cell phone etc.

It is the desecration of the crosses that has really unsettled me. My husband went to be with our friend as he waited for the police and to pray and do some clearing, and another priest came to bless the place later on that day. I have spent some time in prayer over this. Not just for my friend but for the person who did this. For the darkness they carry (be it psychological, spiritual addictive or all three) that would throw them into such a frenzy of hatred at the face of love.
God have mercy upon them; forgive them, and the face of love work deeply within them leading them to the light.

Thursday, 25 September 2008

Moving to Auckland

Those of you who know me will know that I have been for some time struggling with the challenge of studying, working, community work, discernment process, being involved in church etc.

I have just heard that I have a scholarship starting in Feb 2009 to study for three years at St Johns College in Auckland. In truth I am in a little shock I think – not at the logistics of moving my house, my husband and my cat to Auckland, but in the leaving. We have had a lot of uncertainty in work and parish shifts this year and at this moment I am aware of the grief as well as excitement of leaving as well. I am sitting here not sure what to do with myself.

Telling my family was interesting. My mother was great although now I know she hasn’t stopped crying since my phone call. It is funny how even at my age the childhood desire to please can pop its head up when we least expect it.

So people whom I know there you go! Care parcels greatly appreciated. Please know that I will and am excited but when there has been such anxiety for so long to hear leaves me not sure how to respond. Pray for me
Blessings

Megan

Tuesday, 16 September 2008

"To Me...To Me..."

Recently in the madness that has been the last month during Spiritual Direction I had one of those moments where you are seemingly transported beyond yourself.

Towards the end of our session I was encouraged in prayer to open myself up to what I wanted to say to God and indeed what God wanted to say to me. Two things came through, the first was a yearning whereby I had a real sense of God missing me. It blew my mind that God could miss me!

It has left me with a sense of how it is I hold God at bay as I go about my daily life, and left me asking what it is I place between God. This is of course something that I am going to have to unfold more, however it was a gentle reminder of how easily I turn off from the reality of God being ever present.

Then as we were sitting there in silence I had the oddest vision.

There were no kittens, puppies, harps or clouds. Instead I was on a battle field surrounded by a thin mist. All around me were the sounds of swords clashing and fighting, of horses screaming and people dying. Underneath all this madness I was aware of the constant smell of death.

It seemed as if I were all over the battlefield.

At one moment fighting here, at another over on another front fighting there, carrying water here, dragging bodies there, always though I was in this battle against an enemy in the smoke and fog. In this battle I had many roles and many views, I was exhausted and alone, unable to see those who fought with me.

Then through it all there came a cry that cut across all other sounds.
It was the commander shouting out “To Me, To Me!”
Suddenly there was a focus and a call greater than the call to rise up the sword once more. It was as if all of the me’s (remember I was in many places) heard the call simultaneously fell back to that call “To me”.
When I/we did this we found ourselves outside a tent surrounded with smoke.

Although it ended here the sense was, that now it would be okay the Commander may send the now me singular out again, but we would not be alone he would be with us. We would not be scattered, we would know where and who we were, and indeed why, we had direction.

Although I have had such moments before, they have never been so military based. Although this surprised me it was at the same time right.
That evening as I sat in the installation service the reading came of a tent in the wilderness over which the spirit rested. I sat there with my jaw dropped to the floor.

Monday, 15 September 2008

Lifting Women’s Voices in Prayer - Calling Women Prayer Writers

Hi folks
this came across my desk the other day and seeming extremely worthwhile to those of a female creative spiritual bent , I have placed it here.

Lifting Women’s Voices: Changing the world through prayer is part of a grass-roots effort to unite Anglican women from all corners of the globe in prayer. A group is working to compile a new collection of prayers by women from throughout the Anglican Communion. They are inviting Anglican women to help create this prayer collection!

All interested Anglican women are invited to craft and submit a short prayer for publication. The final submission date for prayers is 15th Oct 2008. Prayer texts can be e-mailed to
prayers@cpg.org or Rebecca Hills at rebecca@scm-canterburypress.co.uk.

Lifting Women’s Voices: Changing the world through prayer will be published in the late spring of 2009. All royalties from this project will go directly to the International Anglican Women’s Network and the Episcopal Relief and Development fund.

The aim of the 'Lifting Women's Voices' apart from creating a resource is to reveal how Anglican women worldwide are deeply connected by global issues, even across cultural and economic divides—and affirm that nurturing womens inner lives of prayer, offers all the courage to care and advocate not just for ourselves, but for sisters everywhere. This collection of original prayers from the worldwide Anglican Communion makes connections between women’s personal lives today and global concerns of women. They show the connections between a woman’s prayers for her child in the West and the plight of child labour in the third world.

The extraordinary process of prayer gathering has already facilitated the sharing of stories and concerns of women from all over the world and we would very much like you to be part of this process by sharing the news of our project and getting women from your diocese involved.

The book will feature a foreword by the US Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori, and the editorial board includes, among others, our own Jenny Te Paa.




In Search of a Theologically Juicy Human Experience

Today I am trying to get my head around bringing together the latest edition of the Ministry Times (I will post the link later). And what I am noticing reading through the content here is something lacking.

There are some interesting pieces which so far look like this:
*Ordained a Servant for Christ’s Sake – + Victoria Matthews
*Ordained a Priest - A Study Reflecting On Ordained Priesthood
*Supervision Pieces
*Pakeha Identity -Naming and Framing it for Anglicans in Aotearoa
*Training in Supervision

But I am missing something this time and I am not sure if it is the human nature piece or that I am looking for something really theologically juicy.

Of course this raises another question for me which is: Is my dissatisfaction with the content anything to do with the magazine or is it me who is wanting a human nature experience or indeed something theologically juicy … or in fact a theologically juicy human experience?

Such are the wonderings at this stage of the game.
Blessings
Megin the wind

Tuesday, 9 September 2008

The Charge to Us All

Well Synod is over for now and although there were some positives I think we are all aware of how at times processes can get in the way of getting work done.

Last Thursday we had the Synod Service where Bishop Victoria delivered her first Charge as the Bishop of Christchurch. She clearly and succinctly outlined for us where the priorities were for the future.

Anyway click here to read the charge for yourselves, certainly a charge that has left me both excited and with much to pray on.

Blessings

Meg in the wind
http://www.chch.anglican.org.nz/main/bishopscharge/

Monday, 1 September 2008

Late night musings on the Installation of Bishop Victoria Matthews

If you were looking for signs and wonders as an Anglican in Christchurch, you couldn’t have gone much farther than the Installation of Bishop Victoria Matthews in Christchurch on Saturday. After weeks of flooding and horrendous storms the day cleared and in the walled garden of The Community of the Sacred Name the Sisters informed us that the Victoria plum tree had broken into blossom that very day.

If it seems like I am waxing lyrical then so be it. It was a day when not only were you aware that history was being made, you were a part of it. Never have I seen the Cathedral so full or been apart of so many voices raised in song and prayer.
What was interesting to me were the moments where not only were individuals moved but where as a corporate body there was an indrawn breath. When she stripped down to her alb and prostrated herself in supplication there were many who in the long silence of prayer were moved to tears. To witness her total subservience to God, the total giving of herself to us as Bishop was enough to move the most hardy among us (well nearly move them).

When I really began to notice that this was something different was earlier however among the speeches of the local Iwi (tribe Kai Tahu) and when the Representative of Te Hui Amorangi O Te Waipounamu Bishop Gray spoke. My Maori is pretty warn at the best of times yet in my desperate attempts at translating I became aware of a level of invitation to relationship that was unprecedented certainly in my hearing. When translated in part at the end in English once more it was reiterated the heralding if you like of a new relationship within the three tikanga church. Her mana and that of her supporters was acknowledged and she was in that speech claimed as one of our own.

There were moments when not only was tradition acknowledged, but when the Bishop herself gave us a hint of what we may expect for the future. When asked to respond to the question by Archbishop David Moxon “In selecting, training and ordaining, will you be thorough and discerning?”
Instead of replying with “I will God grant me wisdom to care for those ordained” she added “and for those in discernment responding to Gods call”. As someone in the discernment process I was at that moment aware of my place in all this, as were the several ordination candidates sitting in front of me.

When it came to administering communion she walked (to the tune of Canada’s first indigenous hymn) towards the expectant clergy and passed them by, she walked towards the dignitaries and they too were passed by, she walked towards the mass of us at the back, and we too were passed by as she walked out of the Cathedral and administered communion to those seated in the square outside.

For more intelligent musings than my post installation and pre-synod organizing brain can handle here are a few sights of interest that can tell you more.
In anticipation for the future happy first day of Spring

Saturday, 23 August 2008

Hey there


Okay firstly yes I am still alive but for the next few weeks the madness of organizing a Bishops installation and a synod when we are down on staff will absorb me to the hilt.
Bishop Victoria arrived last week and next Saturday will be installed as 8th Bishop of Christchurch something many of us, myself included, are greatly looking forward to. At the moment I am trying to get my head around an assignment due days ago that seems to make less sense the more I look at it.

Study at the moment has taken a back seat and I am now I think working on a constant catch up. I am intensely aware that working two jobs and studying effectively is not something I am able to do so some decisions coming I think so I may get back to being able to focus on my study and ministry.

Soon I will be back here writing if only as a stress relief. Positive things on the horizon aside from new Bishops include contributing to a publication with a meditation on the holy family. Last night coming out of work I looked at my husband and said I just cant go home my head just won’t clear so we did what we haven’t done for a long time and headed off into the evening we drove over to Lyttleton harbor and watched the boats come in with snow on the hill tops then we drove around the harbour up through the hills through Gebbes Pass and home blowing the week out of my head. I had forgotten how precious it was just to get away of only for an hour and have the space to ask such questions as what have you been reading love?

So I am about to go to take icon class then back to study

Bounce bounce life is an adventure I have just found out that somehow my ability to add pic has returned oh happy day
God at this precise moment ROCKS as I am filled with joy

Peace

Megan

Monday, 21 July 2008

Dont assume you know more than you do

OKay so I thought I could fix my blog
Now I have no graphic on the front page, I have changed some wierd format and lost all my links and REvgalpal webring information

Unholy thoughts

any ideas a blessing
M

Friday, 18 July 2008

Reporting from the Eye of the Storm

Okay Life outs
I am aware that my posts may have seemed pretty dark lately.
Delayed reaction I guess of supporting a group of people in pain. And my dilemma of how to reconcile being a part of a church that sometimes wounds people and gets it wrong, and how when that happens people whom I imagined better of, scatter rather than respond and risk stepping into a sticky and painful place.

I am painfully aware of peoples support through lack of response.
If I have learnt anything it is:
• the importance of keeping doors open,
• of not backing away from those in pain,
• of the importance of my colleagues who have had the courage and gift of stepping forward so there are at least two of us in the fray.

I give thanks for my vicar for his calm wisdom and check ins. And now that the catch up I had made in my study has been lost through this, the need to find the mental resources to get back and try to make sense of my next assignment in a time when such things seem of little relevance.

There is a break for breath here.

I am not sure how this will play out. My mouth still feels dry for the Eucharist. I wonder what it feels like to do nothing at all, oh sweet desire.

Then again I could be at Lambeth! Meg reporting from the eye of the storm.

Thursday, 17 July 2008

Finding the words

Today I have put head phones on.
Let music take over the twisted arguments that surround me
I play the music of the faithful fullbore
Let their words of belief and struggle
Speak for me
Fake it till you make it
Lord have mercy

To others in the same turmoil as me
I am going well
I can advise
Advocate for them
Make demands they have no strength to make themselves
It is only when a cavalry of one appears – a lone rider we would drag from the horse and hold dear
that my own trauma is revealed
She asks what I do
and I can no longer find clear words to say
I am unmasked
I am seen
And in the seeing my own desperation
My own ache is pinned to the board

So I search to reconcile injustice and love
Human weakness and perfection
I have yet to find the way

On the white board at work
I write
'Remember God'
A day later is added
'Remember each other'
Today
'Do not close your doors'
When I wonder if secretly in my calling to God
I write on my own whiteboard
'Please God remember me'
Your forgotten servant
Lord Have Mercy

Tuesday, 15 July 2008

Perhaps of no sense but to thee and me

If I were to explain to you how I am right now -
what the impact of all this is,
I would simply say
I have stopped taking the Eucharist.
That some dark grief has stepped between my hands and the cup.
Lord have mercy

I suspect I have entered a dark place
Not because of anything other than words on a page tell me it is so.
I still have a few words left
even if they do seem as though they should come with subtitles.
Touch for some reason, (that made total sense to me before)
has taken on a new significance,
stepping up to fill the places abandoned by words.
There is solace in the feel of solid objects.
The bark of trees brings comfort to the palm of my hand,
the wood of the healing cross under my pillow
reminds me of one whose agony leads the way forward.

To look at those suffering around me
And choose to stand with them
in the murk that is both fear and anxiety,
is to be invited to a place of excruciating beauty
and devastating love.
And I am transformed by them.
They are after all as family, so how could it be any other way?

To not loose myself in the fears of a damaged people
who can but call out “… each to their own”
is to plead that somewhere a door remain open to their voice
And to hear myself over and over again ask
Lord have mercy on me a sinner
Till I may come home to the cup

Friday, 4 July 2008

Blessed are those who stand in the storm

I am drawn back today (by an uncertainty in future directions) to the job I had before this one. I recall it especially I suppose because besides the fact that it was my birthday it was also the day I was told I was to possibly be made redundant. For eight months a multi national toyed with us over who would go, who would stay.

Until the banality of it was such that it became something that not only did we live with, with some numbness, but that we integrated in some twisted way. How else were we to live with the weekly leaving collections from 400 to 40- last one out etc.

And here in a moment today, I am caught once more with that feeling of helpless anger. On one level I have a rather clinical overview - the 'Oh how interesting to find yourself feeling this way in the face of change, is that a suppressed issue I see arising?' And in another I am aware of standing in a time and place of change where unknowns can be reinterpreted with disastrous results when left in the dark too long.

On a positive note I am going home tonight to indulge in celebrating the 4th of July with my Husband and Friends (he is a southern boy.) We shall eat chili dogs and pecan pie and watch with rare and blessed indulgence my favorite documentary "Searching for the Wrong Eyed Jesus" and watch Delicatessen after that.

For those who have not seen "Searching for the Wrong Eyed Jesus" really suggest you do. Here is the website for more information http://www.searchingforthewrongeyedjesus.com/. For those of you in Christchurch New Zealand you can hire it from Alice in Videoland.

But it is time for me to take myself and my future anxiety home.
Blessed are those who stand in the storm

Megan the ambiguous

Tuesday, 10 June 2008

Fearing not I became my enemy the moment that I preached

I haven’t written here for a long time.

A lot has happened, conferences and the meeting of the new Bishop, workshops and ponderings on the Holy Spirit and Revelation. Looming assignments and reoccurring thoughts.

A couple of weeks ago I recieved several emails from people asking why I have not written on my blog about the controversies here and there over women and ordination. I have thought about this long and hard. You see in truth I have written many postings on this. However they all sit dusty in the edit file of my blog unpublished and full of pain and anger.

The other night I heard this saying from I think an old Bob Dylan song which summed up in a small way why I have not entered the debate on line.

“Fearing not I became my enemy the moment that I preached”

You see it is not that I am not passionate about woman’s ordination but that the tactics and bruising that occurs to all of us when we enter into debate without first dealing with our own pain and sorrow and indeed without building enough of a relationship with those whom we are to speak with over this leads us…leads me… to a place where there is potential for harm rather than healing for division rather than discussion.

For those of you who think me weak in this stance, fair enough maybe you are more robust than I, yet it is easy to spit out faceless posts in such a forum without a sense of responisbility or consideration for those who may read it and indeed I would say to sit... really sit with this and pray is both essential and indeed profoundly uncomfortable. And indeed in no way the easy way.

My apologese for any spelling errors but I have yet to find a real life person who can sit and look at this with me and tell me why my image icons my spell check icons etc have disapeared.

Prayers and Blessings

Meg in the wind

Friday, 16 May 2008

New Old Places

This week I have been trying to reclaim my study back from the ether. This basically entails me reading through Joshua and Judges. It is a sobering section of the Bible where I increasingly find myself pondering on such things as:
Why when they had such a sense of God helping them out in battle etc did they continually fall back to Baal?
What was the attraction of Baal?
When the Ark of the Covent had been used in battle previously what happened to it in the time of Judges?
Let alone the uncomfortable questions that sit around the area of the killing of every man, woman, child, goat, kitten and puppy every second chapter.

Last night I was invited to the new local Russian Orthodox Priests house to observe his Icon group. Father Arkardy spent many years as not only as an Iconographer, but also as a restorer of Icons in Russia. The infamous words of Judy Garland came to mind on entering his house with the sudden realization of “We are not in Kansas anymore”. I am very proud of the woman in my icon group, of the journeys they have taken, of the work of the spirit that so often and so clearly moves through them and indeed me when we work.

In seeing how Father Arkardy works however I am struck by the impact of what happens when you approach the Icon from a cultural perspective with each act carrying significance each stroke a reason. When you are grinding your own paints from precious stones, laying linen over the board not just because of a need for strength but because it symbolizes the wrapping of Christ as a babe in swaddling and indeed in a shroud at death you are drawn to a new place. We talked backwards and forwards sometimes in broken English, sometimes through the translator, and in this conversation there sits an opportunity that when he teaches again I may be able to study under him. This will mean a radical undoing of bad habits on my part I am sure. Yet sitting there watching each stroke I felt once more drawn in to the icons around me.
To this almost soporific place where I am called to step out of time, to slow myself until I find that new rhythm and we begin again.

On a totaly different subject when I go to post I no longer have any way to add graphics sigh... any suggestions there is not even an icon to click on any more

Tuesday, 13 May 2008

With a cup of tea in your hands anything is possible

On my wall here at work there is a post card of a far off looking determined woman that reads "With a cup of tea in your hand anything is possible" a simple statement which as I write this takes on new meaning.

A lot has happened lately which is inevitable when you don't post regularly. Life has been as always full on. Everywhere there is change for me at the moment from Church to work to family to friends. There seems little place for stillness in all this movement.

The move to my new Church has been interesting the liturgy is similar but it is the small changes that make the difference. For example the different tunes to sung responses can throw me for a moment in the liturgy.

The part where I am the biggest woos is at the cup of tea afterward. I am reminded of a talk earlier in my training on how space works to build community. It is a little harder here with round tables where people sit in their groups rather than stand where you have to bump into others. Yet that too is a very much dependent on the age and mobility of the community I suspect.

I have discovered however the ultimate community building accessory for any new church going gurl that being the husband.
On Sunday Shawn joined me for Pentecost and it was interesting seeing the difference it made being a couple in people coming up to talk afterwards I am not sure how my staunch southern American shaved headed husband would cope with being described as a gurls accessory but it is all in a good cause. Anyway they are a nice group of people and I am reminded that it takes time to find your feet in a community. It will be in the small group situations where relationships really begin I think.

Such thoughts inevitably run beyond where I am to how as a church do we make visitors welcome?
How do we open ourselves up to those new to the church?
How do we provide the space and encouragement that may lead to a return visit?
Do we do the brief obligatory hi, have you come here before? Do you live in the area? conversation and then feel that our duty is done?
And perhaps most importantly how do we recognise when we have become inwardly facing? When we are focused more on those comfortable relationships we have with each other, rather than those out on the edge with new comers. I know myself at times I have been all the things I have warned against, most of the time for no other reason than I forgot to notice or was enjoying those around me. I hope that I remember these weeks on the edge, the moments of warmth when I am met by parishioners. And when I find my feet that I am reminded of the importance of the milling places where those most comfortable on the edge meet.
Remeber with a cup of tea in your hands all things are possible...

Friday, 9 May 2008

In and out

Hi

yes i am alive just come back from organising and working at Clergy Conference. now sleep!!!!!!!!!!!

blessings

Megan

Friday, 18 April 2008

A new Church a new adventure

What has been happening?

Well this Sunday I begin at a new church Holy Trinity. It also happens to be the same day my Diocesan Ordination Training Group are visiting Holy Trinity as a part of our bi monthly experince of different forms of worship.


My soon to be new vicar has asked if I will stand up at the end of the service in a bit of an "Oprah" moment and have an introduction question and answer session before the congregation. All very out there!


In the mean time I was asked if I had any prayers suitable for a service which would include teenage girls for this Sunday in light of the horrible week we have had with teenagers here.

For thsoe of you from over seas in the last 2 days we have had 6 teen agers and a teacher from Elim Chrsitian School in the North Island killed in a flash flood on an outdoor pursuits weekend and a local teenager Marie Davis abducted 10 days ago found dead in a river.

So here is what I wrote feeling totally inadequate to the task I would have to say and aware that all over the country others such as me will be struggling to find words both appropriate for the occassion and the age group.

We pray for those who have been taken unexpectedly,
For Marie Davis for the young men and women from the Elim Christian school,

for Floyd, Portia, Tom, Natasha, Anthony, Tony, and Tara.
Holding in our prayers, their families, their friends and all who grieve.

Lord of the unexpected
There are times when I am lost
When this place,
your creation,
can suddenly feel unsafe.
Out in the world,
on the streets,
life goes on,
when I want to stop it for a moment, and ask you why?
Why someone with their whole life before them is taken in an instant?
Why it is that those most beautiful in your sight suffer?
Why it feels like nothing will ever be the same again?

In homes and in class rooms,
for families and friends
there are moments and memories that will never be made,
family occasions that will be incomplete,
text messages meant to bring a smile that will never to be sent,
empty spaces in class rooms,
forever left unfilled.

Yet in all the questions,
the “What ifs”, and the “Maybes” Lord, there is thanks,
Thanks for the joy each of them brought to those around them,
for the smiles and fun times they were a part of,
for the friendships they enriched,
for the talents and gifts they shared.

We give thanks that at this time-however sad,
we are reminded of how special life is,
how precious are those with us here today,
and that unfailing you stand with us in grief and in gladness.
Amen

______________________________________________________

God of our darkness and our light
Watch over those who at this time must be strong for others,
Be at their backs Lord when the burden is too great
Give strength to trembling arms that hold up others,
Forever whispering soft words of morning for those who minister to the night.


Bless all of you who are struggling to find the words


Megan

Monday, 14 April 2008

“Announcing your plans is a great way to hear God laugh”.

Well after weeks of my build up to leaving my parish yesterday it finally happened.
It was one of those times where the saying came true of “Announcing your plans is a great way to hear God laugh”.

I told myself, that I would not cry, I prayed that I would have courage, be graceful and composed and indeed for a few seconds I really was. Yet each moment through the service I was aware was my last as a part of this community. Being Lay Minister I told myself I should be all those things I prayed for and my priest just told me to be honest. So when it got to the Eucharist I knew all prayers would not be answered.

At our church when we take Eucharist everyone comes and stands around the table in a large circle and we all stand together until everyone has partaken. It is a way of taking Eucharist I find immensely powerful and stunningly moving. One of the other vicars Jim was presiding so David and I were chalice bearers. I am not sure if this was by design or not as this was also the culmination of David and my time in Spiritual Direction (4 1/2 years weekly is a long time). So I take the chalice and go to the first person and I am washed over by this wave of grief, of mine, of others, of the blood symbolized in the wine I carry, and I just start to cry. Not huge sobs but a steady trickle of tears that wont stop. Each person I go to is a parting and I look at them and see in some too tears, some for leaving, some for their own pain laid open before God. Beside me David (how does he keep so cool) just paces it with me. And as I go around hands start to touch me as I pass, to support me as I go around. And it is done. As we clear the table I hide behind a pillar, and blow my nose once more blessing the maker of waterproof mascara. Then at the end I come forward for the Release and Blessing as written below.

Completion, Release & Blessing
the Parish Priest addresses the Theological Student…


Priest: Megan, you have shared with us in this parish of St Luke,
as fellow pilgrim on the Way, and as Theological Student in the testing of vocation.
What do you now ask of us?

Megan: Release from the community, and from the ministry I have been exercising.

Priest: What do you seek?


Megan: The will and the glory of God.

Priest: How do you seek it?

Megan: Through the completion of my baptism, by following Christ crucified and risen.

the Parish Priest addresses the congregation…

Priest: My friends in Christ, we give thanks to God for the loving service of Megan.
You hear her request;
will you now release her from this service?
All: We will, by God’s grace.

the Priest places a Crucifix in the Student’s hands…

Priest: Megan, see the sign of the Cross; bear this sign always in your hands and on your
heart, as Christ’s body in the world. Amen.

Priest: Let us pray;
Christ our Lover, True Light who enlightens all people:
Shine, we pray,
in the hearts of all who seek after you,
that we may clearly see the way that leads to life eternal,
and may follow it without stumbling;
for you are the Way, O Christ,
as you are the Truth and Life;
and you live and reign for ever.
All : Amen.

Priest: Megan, by the laying on of our hands
we bless you for all that you have been to us,
and for all that will be required of you in the future.
Go with our love and our prayers,
and may all things belonging to the Spirit live and grow in you.

Go with our thanks,
with our forgiveness,
and the love we express by the touch of our hands.
The blessing of God be with you always.
All: Amen.


The irony of course is in that moment feeling the hands of my community touching me, praying over me, wiping my eyes like a child, holding me (the rebels saying no we wont release her in the service) I finally feel that I really am loved and valued and a part of my community all on the day of goodbye.

The Amen’s are sung (my favourite part of the whole service besides the Eucharist) and I for the first time just listen and hope I can hold this feeling within me as I leave. Next week a new congregation a new beginning.
Peace

Wednesday, 26 March 2008

Nonsensical Musings from the tired Triduum Bunny

Well as an irreverent Friend of mine would say in response to "Jesus Christ has Risen",
"Well that's one more for Sunday lunch then".

The Great Triduum is over. From the foot washing to the veneration, from night vigil to the 5am preparations for the dawn Easter day service around the fire.
Back at work of course there is the 'What did you do for Easter?' to which the reply is 'You know Church' . 'What every day? isn't it like a holiday?' After this time coming back to work almost seems like a relief from an intense time in all honesty. I was pleased to go through it with the people of my community. My priest making sure I was either assisting or in some way involved in every service (I'll teach her as much as I can before she leaves here).

Most people now know I am leaving, no more "oh no or why?" comments. One woman said on Sunday 'Well do they need you?' and actually I don't know.
And that's not really the point. I am not sure what I will be to my new community or them to me. They are an older congregation which will be a challenge for me. I have often lamented on missing people of my own age with which to worship. But I guess this is the difference between joining a community as a parishioner and joining a community as a part of formation. Staying with the uncertainty and all that.

I heard the Bishop Victoria interview today, for those who missed it you can catch it on http://www.radionz.co.nz/national/programmes/ninetonoon . I thought is was much better than the botched edited TVNZ job the other day . I would have liked the interviewer to not spend half the interview trying to find sensationalist angles from unnamed sources. (Makes me ashamed to grow up in a media household). I am just looking forward to having her here and meeting her face to face.

This weekend it is tomato soup, pasta sauce and relish preserving weekend.
Peace to you all and deep stuff later.
Meg (the tired Triduum bunny)
Jesus Christ has risen Alleluia !