Wayne's Words

Recently I read an article in the newspaper about the expansion of Grace Chapel’s ministry in Lexington. They are “packaging” the same sermon in a variety of worship formats and various settings beyond the sanctuary. That same day I noticed the “Reflection for the Day” on the comics page: “We live in a moment of history where change is so speeded up that we begin to see the present only when it is already disappearing. R. D. Laing”

 

When my children were small, I remember the “transformers” we played with. You could make these robotic toys into a variety of shapes, adding nothing, taking nothing away, simply twisting, turning, transforming the shape. Since the Transformation Conference in NYC, I’ve been thinking about the challenge of transformation in the local congregation.

After this warm thaw, our memory of the cold frozen New England tundra of the blizzard of  ’05 fades rapidly. Yet, one image remains etched in my memory. The roads were mostly cleared; sidewalks and driveways were being shoveled. But through the forest woodlands where I walk my dog, no work had been done to clear the trails. My dog valiantly tried to lurch through the frozen three-foot drifts, to no avail. As my boots punched holes in the frozen snow banks, my dog was able to follow in the path I forged.

 

When I got to the trail, someone had already been there and left a set of footprints in the snow. Rather than slowly trudge through the depths, I was able to follow in those footprints. It made the walk much easier. When I wanted to follow fresh new trails, I would have to revert to that slow, ice-breaking shuffle. But I would think to myself how much easier those who followed in my footsteps would have it.

 

The training event for new G.P.s last week in Louisville was excellent, and it also provided time to meet some people from our denominational office and discuss the reactions and backlash especially from the Jewish community about recent G.A. actions. So often inaccurate reporting by the media leads to a breakdown in trust and understanding. At our August Council gathering I distributed copies of Stated Clerk Clifton Kirkpatrick’s July 20 clarification of such inaccurate Internet information.

The summer sermon series at our church has been poetry and faith. This was the poem of the day, matched with scripture readings about the nature of prayer, and the focus of WCUC’s The Rev. Merrie Allen’s sermon (Thanks!

Two events merged in my mind this week. I was able to enjoy a nostalgic trip down memory lane at a Peter, Paul and Mary concert on the North Shore.

During intermission, I began to reflect upon and make some connections with our recent General Assembly in Richmond, Virginia.

 

I am one of those types who like to participate. I easily get caught up in the clapping and sing-a-long of a concert. I remember once Paul Stookey reminding us that there would be a “little voice within saying ‘sing’.  Please don’t!” he requested.” Peter Yarrow is a master at drawing in the crowd. On this occasion, however, I found myself listening more to the trio, as well as the audience. I wanted to hear the sounds of the performers; I wanted to tune into the passion of the listeners. I was caught up in a euphoric moment of bliss.