Expecting Christ

R E F L E C T I O N
We are all meant to be mothers of God
What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place unceasingly
but does not take place within myself?
And, what good is it to me if Mary is full of grace
if I am not also full of grace?
What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to his Son
if I do not also give birth to him in my time and my culture?
Then, then, is the fullness of time:
When the Son of God is begotten in us.
----Meister Eckhart----

This beautiful reflection came from my friend Al Ferrando. I wanted to pass it along. Word Clouds are new to me. I thought this was a perfect poem for a word cloud.
As Advent is coming to a close and we move toward celebrating Jesus birth and his promise to return to usher in the peaceable kingdom, may we become whom we expect. Each day may we live God's justice and peace in our daily actions.

Blessings, Karen

Waltzing at any age

Last weekend, at the wedding reception, we danced to Etta James “At Last” arguably one of the sexiest songs ever written. Once many years ago after a whole day of combining wet hot cow manure with our new garden plot, he took me into his arms and waltzed with me on the driveway between the barn and the house. Covered in mud and manure he told me how beautiful I was. He made me feel beautiful!

After midnight, my legs twisted in cramps, he waltzed me around the bedroom walking out, untying the knots in my legs. What a sweet tender dance of age and love, born out of a life long commitment.

In the movies they always look so elegant, so flawless, but it is better in real life; even as we stumble over each others feet employing dance steps not known to any dance instructors. The dance of two klutzy people who found safety, dependability, and everlasting love.

Blessings, Karen

A rusted pan

It's only stuff. I understand this intellectually, as I put a rusty cake pan (that should have gone to the trash) into a box . I know the pan is not my mother. But I see a childhood of hundreds of sheet cakes made, decorated, and consumed. That's the pan you use to make a sheet cake. My mother was not a great baker. She did not bake from scratch. She loved boxed cake mixes and prepared foods. She was so happy to be living in a time when everything did not have to be done with the basic ingredients. My rebellion was to learn to make food from scratch, especially baking. I taught myself how to make pies, cakes and bread. My creations required three round cake pans for a fabulous three layer chocolate cake, bread pans for honey whole wheat bread, and pie plates for cherry or lemon meringue pies. If fact, I seldom made sheet cakes but I haven't been able to turn loose of the pan. Did I mention that it is made of old tin and so it is rusted and if not lined with foil it makes the cake taste like rust.

My wise friend, Dona, said when she cleared out her mother's belongings by having a yard sale, she did fine until she saw people picking over her mother's pots and pans. These items of everyday life captured more meaning than antique jewelry or furs.These everyday items become sacred in their constant use. I gave my youngest daughter a wooden spoon that belonged to my mother. The constancy of something used in everyday cooking makes it sacred. These homily things become sacred by a lifetime of touching, a life time of use.

Our lives are made sacred by our daily living. If we see each activity of our life as prayer, each action becomes a sacred pathway. Cooking and washing dishes are both ways of praying, ways of putting creativity in action (especially when we are mindful of God's presence). My mother's godliness was present in her mixing up a cake and serving it to us children. The pan only resents her loving action. Perhaps, now, I will throw the pan away. My children have already signed up to inherit my bread pans.

Blessings, Karen

Forgiveness

My friend, the Rabbi Margaret Kline, has invited several people to write in 250 words or less about forgiveness. This topic is concurrent with the Hebrew calendar month of Elul which proceeds Rosh Hashanah and Yum Kippur. Elul is seen as a time to search one's heart and draw close to God in preparation for the coming Day of Judgement and Day of Atonement.

Each contributor is offering so much to think about and readers are encouraged to leave comments. Look up this opportunity @ The Energizer Rabbi's Blog under "Holidays." If you try putting the words into Google you will find fewer bunny rabbits if you put it in as "Rabbi Energizer." Blessings, Karen

Rev Barbie

My dear friend Dona, promised me a priest Barbie for my birthday. And last week she arrived!

Cheryl Aileen (Dona’s daughter) and her daughter Grace engineered the clothing for Barbie with instructions over the phone. Barbie’s chasuble and stole mimic my purple set for Advent and Lent.

The full grown set was a gift from Sandy and Seamus Conolly for presiding at their wedding. Dona helped design the full size set. Grace hand painted the tiny decoration to look exactly like the original.

Any resemblance between the Rev. Karen and the Rev. Barbie is for you to decide. The joke began because Dona would frequently say that I reminded her of priest Barbie. Dona said she thought it was great that one of my sermons actually began with the opening line, “When I went to have my nails done this week...” I claim ignorance. I do not remember the sermon. Perhaps I will have to go back and search the record. For the moment, I’m thrilled to have a Rev. Barbie! And she is wearing cute shoes, too!

Pretty isn’t necessarily fluffy! Blessings, Karen

The Kingdom is all around Us

Miraculous Abundance

Precious Lord Take My Hand

Congratulations and Condolences

Congratulations and Condolences

This morning while I was getting dressed, I ruminated about words I had spoken to someone who is a newly elected bishop. Last year, I saw him at the gathering at our seminary and I blurted out “congratulations and condolences.” He was very understanding and just let it pass but I have, as I sometimes do, repudiated myself and spent too many hours saying to myself, “couldn’t you have just left it at “congratulations!”

This morning, I realize that perhaps I was not too far off track. I was thinking of all he and his wife will have to sacrifice for this new position. The move is the smallest sacrifice. The long hours, the traveling, the sense that everyone wants a piece of you, and most of all the willingness to take a stand for justice, for the oppressed, for Christ. Risking his life for the sake of the Gospel.

Then it occurred to me that “congratulations and condolences” is an appropriate greeting at baptism and confirmation, too. We generally dress up the candidates, give them gifts, and treat them as if they have accomplished something when really they are just launching on a journey of serving Christ. The congratulations are for saying “yes” to Christ. The condolences are for all of the sacrifices they will make if they take their mission seriously.

My question for today is ----Can we raise up Christians who are willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of the Good News of Jesus Christ, our Risen Lord. Churches want to grow. If we can help shape and form followers of Jesus who are willing to lay down their life, their stuff, their need to be right, their need to control others, in order to live a God filled life, the church will grow. During the Black Plague, Christians certain that they were resurrected with Christ through their baptism, nursed, cleaned-up, and stayed with those who were dying. Some of them died. Some of the sick lived and they said we want what these brave selfless Christians have. They converted and the Church grew. Are we willing to live what we profess? If so, we are to be congratulated and consoled as it will be a terrific and difficult journey.

Blessings, Karen

Be Surprised by Easter Joy! Welcome Home!

Sow God's love

Happy April Fool’s! It’s snowy this morning and the world is white. That’s fine because peas like sloppy weather. The old time farmers told me to plant my peas as close to St. Patrick’s day as the ground is workable. Peas are very unassuming seeds, hard and dried up, a little shriveled looking---I am in awe that they produce fabulous fragrant flowers in a riot of colors in late June and early July.

I got my peas in the ground last week. I planted even though I know I am probably moving. I may only get to smell one bouquet from these peas.But I am compelled to plant them. As I see the crocus and snow drops bloom and the daffodils emerging, I know they are not mine. I must plant to make the world more beautiful, to share these flowers with others. It is my mission and my joy to plant.

Just as in the parable of the sower, Jesus says the sower casts her seed on the ground—some fall on rocky ground, some seed is eaten by birds and some falls into fertile ground and grows and blossoms. We don’t get to know what will grow, We do not get to hang around to see if we are successful. We are called to cast the seed of God’s love into the world and let it take root where it will.

Blessings, Karen

Love God and Love Your neighbor

Sunday March 27th I supplied at All Saints Church in Leominster. This is the sermon God gave me to preach. Blessings, Karen

The Church is Not Obsolete

The Church, the Body of Christ is not obsolete. Perhaps it is our buildings and our own needs which are obsolete. On NPRs "On the Media" they interviewed a New York Times editor who studied which stories were read and passed on to friends. The stories which were thought worthy of passing along by e-mail were awe inspiring. This should be the Churches territory! We have The Creation, the resurrection, Christ's loving transformative power to offer the world!

We nice regular church goers have left the awe out of our worship. We prefer music and and prayers and sermons that don't rock the boat. We have put the Holy Spirit in a prison of tameness. We like our fires confined to fireplaces. Marrianne Mix said that if we truly believed in the Holy Spirit we would see her like molten lava that destroys and builds up.

Those who came before us were so excited, so awe inspired that they couldn't wait to tweeter, e-mail, and shout the Good News of the love of Jesus the Christ.

Blessings, Karen

Part l Bud of Hope Part ll Gardening with God

Part l Bud of Hope

My garden is buried under several feet of snow with more predicted this week and temps that can be expressed with one digit.

May garden pot of hope appears below.

Several weeks ago, I went to out to empty dead plants so I could pot some tulip bulbs which had been cooling in my refrigerator in order to force them for Christmas time. Christmas was long past. I determined to throw out all the plants because the Patient Lucy (What a misnomer. There is nothing patient about Lucy and she got too cold next to the window and began to shrivel.) I turned the pot over and shook out the plants and then I saw it -----one little bud on the fuchsia. I could not let it die. It became my hope of spring, of resurrection, of new life. I put new potting soil, the six red tulip bulbs and the fuchsia and the hellebore back in the pot. each day my little bud is getting bigger and getting ready to open.

If you live in California, this probably doesn't make much sense. To refresh your mind, see photo of my window sill. Growing up in California, the fuchsias grew as huge bushes and as a child, I delighted in popping the bulbs just to hear them pop. I ask for forgiveness for my sins which are manifold and do trouble my soul.

The Christmas lights are still on the plants to help keep them warm. The rosemary especially loves the extra light and heat. Notice that one of the bulbs can be seen popping above ground in the photo. Only four more months until the sweet earth appears, again.

Part ll Gardening with God

I love to garden. I love to have an excuse to put my hands in the dirt. The rich sweet smelling, always changing, earth. The place I came from and will return to-----which brings me much peace. As I put on grubby clothes saying that I was off to garden, my children used to say "Mom is going out to play in the mud." I am not the best gardener. There is so much to know about plants. I have made every mistake possible. I have unwittingly pulled up good seedlings and nurtured weeds.

In the garden, while I'm visiting the plants, weeds and flowers, I often hear from God. My prayer life always gets the short shrift when I approach the formal process which I admit I need. The words of the Book of Common prayer wash over me and marinate my soul in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection and the assurance that God is in control. I don't pray formal prayers enough. However, in the garden, I not only request, plead and talk with God, God often answers me. Clarity comes when I hear God speaking in the garden.

I am God's servant and so the title of my blog is fitting, "gardener for God." I believe that I am called with all of God's people to tend this earth to restore paradise. When my children were young, I used to compare them to my garden. I was my work to tend them and to give them air and sunlight and water but I couldn't wait to see how they would turn out. What kind of flower would they be? This is how I see my ministry, also. I can preach and know what I intended but I have no control over what others take away. I cast my seed and it grows as God intends. I nurture my congregation trying to be faithful to how God is directing, and they will grow into the kind of flower they are. I pray that they will grow into the flower that God intends them to be and that my ministry with them helps encourage them in that direction.