Recently a group of our parish sat outside the church building and held a meeting on the lawn. We made hotdogs and relaxed in our lawn chairs. As folks walked by we offered a cold drink or a hotdog. A few folks took us up on it but some people thought we were selling something.

One of the greatest moments came when a passerby in a car stopped at the red light and said, "What y'all doing?" "We're praying," someone said. "Alright!" the man said enthused. "God is good," he shouted. "All the time," we shouted back. Then the light turned green and he was gone. What a blessing. In the matter of a minute perhaps, we received good neighborly cheer and a profound praising of our God. In a time when neighbors rarely know one another, when the news is usually about death or crime in our town, we experienced a true gift of joy.

We've decided that churches would do well to try porch sitting too. Or lawn sitting, or rambling about on the lawn. It's hard to imagine what goes on inside an austere looking building such as ours, but you get a hint of it when you see people laughing and praying, eating and smiling. We are making this place called a "church" a true home. Perhaps what needs to happen is for folks to discover us on the outside so they can relish what happens on the inside!

The inside too is filled with that same warmth and welcome. This past Sunday we sang praises to God while we clapped, played drums and rain sticks. We offered our confessions to the haunting sound of the psaltery and brought our offerings to the sounds of smooth jazz of "Just a Closer Walk with Thee."

I'm glad to be part of a church family that longs to love neighbor as oneself. I'm thankful that members were brave and not afraid to pray and praise on the front lawn! I'm eager to meet all those people walking up and down our street. So if you happen to pass by St. Peter's and see us on the "porch", join us and let us be your neighbor!

Friends Around the World

I just returned from a trip with the Ephrata Cloister Chorus to Germany and what an enriching trip it was! We met many new friends and renewed old acquintances. The treasures we gained are more than can ever fit into luggage. We discovered the joys of singing in ancient churches and sharing smiles when words could not be said.
Daryl and I were serenaded by the Leidertafel Choir on our anniversary with an enchanting love song. All these experiences reminded me that it only takes a small effort to bring joy around the world. In a time when Americans are often sneered at and jeered, we received warm, embracing welcomes everywhere we went. As it came time to leave, our friends in Eberbach stood by the bus and waved American flags as we left.
Today a new refugee family from Kenya and the Congo came to our church for assistance. As the youth sat around our table frightened by the newness of it all, I was reminded of how I felt when I could not understand anyone around me. I immediately stood up and shook each hand and said my name. They began to smile and say their names. The tenseness in the room left and they began to relax. I pray that we can open our arms to these new friends.

The Promise

Yesterday we celebrated the baptism of litte Jacob Melkamu at our church. What a day of rejoicing! The part that especially tugs at my heart is when we introduced Jacob to the family of God. As I carried him through the aisles and told him all about the new family he has, that they are going to pray for him and for his mom and dad, it was a holy moment. It was a strong reminder to me that we are the arms that will support this child and his parents to grow in the love of God. It is the church that has made a promise to be there in times of need and to nurture his growth. I have to wonder if all those sitting in the pews who promise to" love, support and care for the one being baptzied as he grows in Christ" really knows what they have done. This is a vow not to be taken lightly.

I wish actually that I would have spent more time talking to those making the promise. It seems like perhaps that vow gets glossed over way too much. Yet, in the presence of God and witness, we have vowed to a journey that calls for much prayer and involvement. What might this really look like if we take it seriously? At St. Peter's where I am the pastor, we have mentors who are matched up with teens in our congregation. We also have sponsors for new members. Two individuals have taken this quite seriously and continue to nurture and support the teens with enthusiasm and dedication. This is what living as the family of God is all about. it is costly. it is working when we think we have no time.

I wonder what impact our congregation will have on the life of little Jacob Melkamu. May we take our vows seriously and even amid these times where folks move on and go to different locations, may we never forget the promise we have made to both God and Jacob.

Mixed blessing

This week being snowed in has been a mixed blessing. I have enjoyed the beauty of the snow, the quiet here in the woods, and the times around the fireplace. However, I find myself torn between "doing" and "being." It is such a marvelous opportunity to do nothing but there always lurks a nudge in my spirit to catch up on things that have long sat on the shelf waiting for a "free" day. Then there is the "nurture of my soul" that keeps longing to be fed. It's a dilemma for a busy beaver like me. Today in my devotional book, "Washing the Feet of the World With Mother Teresa" I was reminded that prayer is continual. The writer challenged me to allow prayer to be part of the whole day. I know this in my head and if I'm honest, I also know it intuitively. When prayer becomes a natural part of my day, my relationship with God is deepened and I find the need to say less, to less, even think less.

Henri Nouwen once said,

"sometimes Silence is the best answer there is." (From Reaching Out)

The snow is teaching this to me. May your journey today be adorned with some silence.

As the woods ready themselves for fall and the deer stand gazing at me in my driveway, I am reminded of how much I love autumn. However, with it comes the sad reminder of my son Chad's death. It is six years on November 1 - All Saints Day. There is not a day that goes by that he isn't close to my heart. It was especially poignant as I was jolted by a discussion on death.

Just yesterday my mother in law and I attended a funeral of a long time friend of hers. She went to school with this woman for grades one through twelve and about six weeks ago I accompanied her to their 73rd high school class reunion. Now here we were attending her funeral. It so happened that the person giving the eulogy read a scripture that said the dead in Christ shall rise first at the second coming of Christ. My mother in law, a great woman of faith in God, was startled. She said to me, "All this time I believed Dad (her husband) has been in heaven with Jimmy (her son). Now it sounds like they aren't there at all - there are still in the ground waiting for Jesus to come again. Do you believe that she asked me?"

I was struggling to find an answer her in a way that was encouraging and yet not suggest that the way she literally interprets scripture is wrong. After all, she is 91 and knows far more than me. "Mother," I said, " I think the Apostle Paul and all those folks way back then are just like you and me - trying to figure out about heaven and hell, and where the dead go. I believe that my Chad and Dad and Jimmy are all in heaven with God. It's a mystery I can't explain but I believe it."

"I guess you are right," she said. "I sure would hate to think of Dad just lying dead in the ground all this time. He speaks to me sometimes you know," she said.

There is no joy in having a child die at 26 years old. The wound is always there - sometimes it bursts open anew and other times it is covered well with a band aid - but it is always there. My comfort comes in knowing Chad is with God. So as the leaves turn and die and the cold sets in, I am reminded that the loss I feel will once again enter a new season.

It's finally here!

Hi folks, my blog is finally up and running. Some of you have been asking for a Bible study on line so this is where you will find it!

About the title - I wanted to name it Under the Table, but that was already taken. Love at the Table comes because of my deep joy in God's welcome to all. Years ago when I was a foster parent I discovered that meal time was often the roughest time of the day. Children who came to live with me had often been traumatized and so sitting around the table and enjoying a good meal was not something to which they were accustomed.

More than once, I had to sit under the table, holding a child in the midst of a tantrum or rocking one who was crying. I discovered that great comfort and grace was found under the table and at the meal. I considered it great joy when we all got to eat together.

I remember too of the kind neighbor that fed my brother and I every morning at her house when we were supposed to be waiting for the bus. She was aware that we were usually hungry and had no parent to see that we received good nutrition. In addition, we were the recipients of her nurture which lasted a lifetime. Thanks to God that this kind woman gave Love at the Table!