A Sunday Treat

This past Sunday, I got to do what so many of you take for granted: choose if and where I would go to church! It was really my first weekend in town since my Sabbath Leave began and with Holly running the Wilson Bridge Half Marathon (and me going down early to Alexandria to cheer her on), I decided to drop in on a couple of colleagues who serve churches in Washington, DC. One of the occupational hazards of being a pastor is that you don't often get to venture outside your own sanctuary to see what other churches are doing so I considered it a real treat. I heard two really good sermons and tried to worship openly without too critical an eye (another occupational hazard) though I have to confess that I found myself missing the music, the people, and the way we do worship at BUMC in both instances. It was a satisfying morning in many respects, one I hope to repeat at a few other venues before I return, but truth be told, I'd have rather heard Jenny preach -- we are so spoiled to have her!

This week also gave me the chance to check in on a couple of the girls that I used to coach in soccer for many years as their high school teams were playing one another on a gorgeous Tuesday afternoon (Washington International School v. Maret). As an added bonus since I was in the neighborhood, I got to wander the grounds of the National Cathedral and try to capture some of the majestic grandeur of that sacred place with my camera. What a privilege it is to have that beautiful structure almost in our backyard and how often we drive by on Massachusetts Avenue without stopping -- I was grateful to have the time to just soak it in for awhile before I had to head home.

BUMYF Reunion at Clemson

You know you are in the South when you join in the Pledge of Allegiance, God Bless America, and the National Anthem AND a pastor offers an invocation before the kickoff of the football game (a rabbi had the honor the week before which threw people off a bit, I'm told). We were down at Clemson this past weekend and not only was it great seeing Christine and her three roommates very happily settled in their new condominium (why does my college daughter have a nicer kitchen than we do?), but also getting a chance to reconnect with some other BUMC youth group alums: Daniel Kirwan and Lauren Chacon (both freshmen) and Ashley Fansler (a junior, like Christine). I'm happy to report that they are all doing well. Lauren is in the marching band (billed as "The Band that Shakes the Southland" -- and they did), Daniel has joined Central Spirit (a pep club that supports all the sports teams), and Ashley is plugging away at her science courses to get into the Nursing Program.

On Sunday morning we got to make a return visit to Downtown Clemson Fellowship, the church that Christine has been attending pretty regularly now for the last 2 years (Pat & Karen: you'll be happy to know that Daniel came with us, too). It's an emergent style church (coffee, casual, band, weekly eucharist) that caters almost entirely to college students and it was quite moving to see so many young people tuned into the nearly two hour service which included an hour-long teaching sermon by the young, hip pastor -- not sure I could get away with that at BUMC, and not only because I'm no longer young and hip enough! They really do pray and worship every day in the South -- or at least on football weekends.

Good Thing I'm in a Zen Place

Let me share with you some of the less glorious moments of my last week. On Thursday while chauffuering my instructor to the site of our afternoon photo excursion (Ernie's Barn, a three-story potpourri of antiques, treasures, and just plain junk), my convertible died. It gave a brief warning (as in, "that doesn't sound good") and then basically just came to a halt about seven miles from our destination. Fortunately, our T.A. was following close behind and was able to take our teacher to meet the rest of the class while I stayed back to deal with the car. I was pretty much out in the middle of nowhere and it was really hot (93 degrees -- fairly atypical Maine weather) so I took it as a good sign that there was a tow truck about 30 yards down the road who happened to be heading back to Rockport where I needed to go. It was not such a good sign, however, when I got a call the next morning from the Herrick's Auto Repair (on Rockville Street, of all places) informing me that my engine was, to borrow a theological term, beyond resurrection. The only solution was to replace it at a cost greater than the value of the car, so it stayed in Maine (on a side note, when they called the Chrysler dealer to find out about a replacement, and the response was, "Oh, that junk engine?" -- that's really not a good sign). So then on Tuesday morning of this week, I had to laugh at myself when I found my cell phone sitting among the load of sheets at the bottom of the washing machine (fortunately, unlike my car, I was due for an upgrade anyway). And then yesterday, I had the privilege of sitting in the dentist's chair for two hours as he completed my root canal and prepped my tooth for a crown -- how's that for a welcome home?

But life is still very good and I've learned over the years to not sweat too much the things that you can't control. Cars will break down, cell phones will occasionally go through the washer, and we all have to face the dentist some time. Whether incidents turn into disasters or just bumps in the road often has a lot more to do with our attitudes and reactions than the events themselves. I am choosing to be grateful for the gifts of each day (a timely tow, a chance to laugh at my own foolishness, novocaine) and to stay in my Zen Zone even if I'm no longer in Maine. So how was your week?

Pointing with Your Heart

I’ve now spent the last three days immersed in a world of images, F-stops, and overwhelming creativity and what an absolute treat it has been. After a two day drive which included passing the convoy of motorcycles and emergency vehicles bringing the piece of 9/11 history down to Arlington firefighters, a very long, horn-laced wait to get over the GW Bridge in New York, an early morning stop in Mystic Seaport, CT, and a leisurely exploration of some of the beach towns along the Rhode Island coast, I finally arrived in Rockport which is home to the Maine Media Workshops. I’ve discovered in short measure that this is and has been pretty sacred and influential turf for many artists and photographers over the last forty years, the kind of place that people return to again and again, looking to renew their creative vision, strengthen their skills, and be taught by some of the best photographers in the world.

The class I’m taking is called Zen & the Art of Photography and just to give you a feel for what we are doing, our first assignment was to remove our memory cards from our cameras and then go out to make fifty images. The point was to force us to focus more intently on the moment of seeing than the product or results of our snapping the shutter. Fortunately, the exercise progressed to allow us to return to three of the spots that had inspired us and to make actual pictures, and then finally in the third phase, we chose one location to make two or three thoughtful exposures.

Our instructor is Douglas Beasley (www.douglasbeasley.com) a very accomplished, humble, and light-hearted (in so many senses of that word) man, who works almost entirely in black and white with time-honored instruments: a 4 X 5 format Polaroid camera where prints are made from the gooey negatives, a square-framed Haselblatt, or occasionally the more conventional DSLR for his commercial shoots. Yesterday’s sessions included sharing some of the work that we had brought with us and I was both a little overwhelmed (as in, “What am I doing in the company of such extraordinarily talented photographers?”) and so appreciative of the creativity and vision of my peers.

Every day in addition to writing and photography exercises, Doug shares with us some thoughtful quotes and I loved this one: “It doesn’t matter where you point the camera; what matters is where you point your heart.” This is very soulful image making, indeed, and I’m loving and being stretched by it every minute.