The Second Monday of the Vigil of St. Mary: The First Day of School

One of the gifts of serving in a church called St. Mary’s is having a mom as our patron.  I think of Mary trying to get Jesus up in the morning.  Cleaning up Jesus’ spilled beverages.  Packing his lunch.  Washing his clothes.  Cooking food that Jesus may or may not have liked and listening to his complaints.  Mending clothes torn in play.  Answering Jesus’ questions after school.  Listening to his stories, especially when she was too tired to do so.  Tucking Jesus in at night and praying prayers with him.

It’s good to have Mary as a companion wherever we are in our parenting journey, whether being a biological parent, an adoptive parent, a godparent, and/or a parent in Christ.

Today many students go back to school in our area.  Teachers and school staff have been back for at least a week.  At St. Mary's, on Sunday, as has been our custom for a number of years, students brought backpacks to be blessed.  Blessings were bestowed on all students and school staff by our whole congregation.

And, as is our custom, we gave out backpack tags with the prayer that the children of St. Mary's (which means children of all ages) pray:

Good morning God.  This is your day.  I am your child.  Please show me your way.

Moms and dads have told me about praying this prayer with their children in the car on the way to school. I know that it's the first prayer that comes to my lips each morning.  It's the breakfast prayer I pray with my grandsons.

I love this prayer.  When I pray it, I hear the voices of the St. Mary's children praying it with me.  It feels like a new start no matter what has happened the day before.

There's a commercial on tv that shows a group of children preparing to have a good beginning to a new school year.  They are singing an adaption of the Whitesnake song, "Here I go again.”  It's the hopeful, kid-friendly version:

I don't know where I'm going,
But I sure know where I've been
I've made up my mind,
I'm not wasting no more time
Here I go again on my own,
Going down the only road I've ever known

On this first day of school, many children go to school wearing brand new clothes.  They carry new bags to hold lunches and new book bags or backpacks.  However, other children don’t because of economic and social challenges, and we pray for how we can make sure they have the clothes, food, and supplies they need and containers to carry their food and supplies.  How can we share our blessings with all children and help them feel confident and secure?

In God's kingdom, each day is the first day of life.  Each day, God gives us the garment of Christ to wear, the spiritual food we need, and hands, hearts, and minds to carry everything we need.

And so we pray for our parish family as we are parents to a whole world of children, with Mary as our holy model:

Almighty and everliving God, ruler of all things in heaven and earth, hear our prayers for this parish family. 
Strengthen the faithful,  arouse the careless, and restore the penitent.
Grant us all things necessary for our common life, and bring us all to be of one heart and mind within your holy Church;through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen

The Vigil of St. Mary: Day Four

Today at St. Mary's we celebrated our monthly Wednesday Eucharist, and it was fitting that we used the propers for the Feast of St. Mary the Virgin--a nice preparation for the St. Mary's Day Festival on Sunday, August 28.

Nine of us gathered for worship and prayer.  We anointed with oil those seeking God's healing and sent out Eucharistic Visitors to visit four families.  We offered the Eucharist in memory of those who had died in the past month.  Of course, as our Offertory prayer, we prayed for our parish family.

Almighty and everliving God, ruler of all things in heaven and earth,

 hear our prayers for this parish family. 

Strengthen the faithful, 

arouse the careless, 

and restore the penitent.

Grant us all things necessary for our common life, 

and bring us all to be of one heart and mind within your holy Church;

through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Amen

The color for this feast day is blue, and Alan and I pulled out our blue stoles.  Hanging on the door of the sacristy closet was my blue stole from Guatemala that my brother had given me when I was ordained a transitional deacon twenty four years ago.  When I received it, the stole was a bright, bright blue, not really the "correct" Advent blue. However, over time, it became a favorite Advent stole, and eventually, because it contained every liturgical color within its design, it was the stole I kept in my car to wear for home communions.  It has travelled a lot of miles being part of the blessing of bread and wine, persons and animals, homes and even a sports bar.

My bright blue stole went through the flood waters of the Tax Day Flood in my Prius, not safely parked in three feet of water in my garage. We rescued the flood-covered stoles and hung them to dry in my back yard.  I decided to burn, reverently, the stoles because I thought that they were so damaged that they were past saving, but a parishioner was determined to restore them to use.

After many launderings and soakings, my stole is wearable again.  Granted, it is now faded to more of an aqua color--befitting its flood journey.  The panels have become more like stained glass, the dyes having bled and run together creating new colors and patterns. I wore this well-loved and well-worn stole for the first time today for the Eucharist honoring our patron, Mary.

As we read the Gospel appointed for her day, that Gospel we call the Magnificat, I was struck that those words were sung by Mary days after she had received her invitation from God to bear God's son.  Everything was new for her--it was like she had been given a brand new, bright blue stole.  She had no idea the wonder and delight and, yes, suffering she had before her.  By the end of her life, her "stole" would have been faded, damaged, no longer pristine, but beautiful with the memories of service that she had carried.

My stole, after the flood, is more perfect because of the wonder, delight, suffering, and prayer it represents.  This stole was given in love, worn in love, and repaired in love.  The changing colors and patterns, more beautiful in surprise, are an image of God's yes to the prayer we are praying for our parish family--the faithful strengthened, the careless aroused, and the penitent restored as we do have all things necessary for our common life, through Jesus Christ, the Son of Mary.  AMEN

The Vigil of St. Mary: Beginning as we intend to go on

In the Coptic Christian tradition, the six weeks before the Feast Day of St. Mary is spent in prayer, fasting, and preparation.  Today is the Feast Day of St. Mary, and our brothers and sisters in the Coptic Church are ending their spiritual practice.  However, at St. Mary's in Cypress, we are in our second day of spiritual renewal as we prepare to celebrate Mary's Feast Day, transferred, on Sunday, August 28.

It's been our practice for several years to celebrate in community the feast day of our patron, Mary, on a Sunday nearer the beginning of the new school year.  We believe that Mary, being a mother, would understand trying to accommodate the needs of our parish families.  But in the waiting, we have decided this year to spend time intentionally allowing God to ready us for what God has in store.

It was fitting that we began yesterday during worship.  It was a day with flooded streets and some parishioners unable to find a way to church.  The Welcoming Retreat had to be rescheduled because the leaders' roads to church were undriveable.  Our bread baker was flooded in.  Our nursery staff were unable to find safe roads to St. Mary's.  However, we had two hundred faithful souls join us for worship between our Saturday night Youth Sharing Faith event, three Eucharists, and home communions.  People stepped up and stepped in (even with wet shoes and socks), and by the 10.30 Eucharist, the nursery and chapels were open to serve the children of St. Mary's, and our Eucharistic Visitors were able to bring the Lord's meal to most of our ill and infirm.  We ate wafers for communion instead of baked bread.  

And we began to pray even more intentionally for our parish family.  It was a very fine day.

Will you join us in praying each day for people of the church where God has called you?  And to the folks of St. Mary's in Cypress, Texas, you are especially invited, by me, your rector, to pray for us as we prepare to begin another year together.

This is our Vigil of St. Mary daily prayer: 

Almighty and everliving God, ruler of all things in heaven and earth, hear our prayers for this parish family. Strengthen the faithful, arouse the careless, and restore the penitent. Grant us all things necessary for our common life, and bring us all to be of one heart and mind within your holy Church; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Cutting my hair for Kelly

Around the time my son married his wonderful wife, I began to grow my hair. Jacob and Lisa got married on Holy Cross Day, 2008, in Portland, Oregon. The day before, Hurricane Ike hit Houston, and in the midst of family preparations for the joyful day, we watched tv for news of the devastation in our hometown. 

After the wedding, I was on one of the first planes allowed back into Houston. The airport was eerily empty, and as I drove to my home, the streets were lined with downed trees and refuse from the storms. 

When I arrived home, my yard was full of branches and assorted interesting items that had taken up residence in my desme. My fence had blown down, and I had no electricity; we would be without power for three weeks. 

And my hair continued to grow. My hair grew through three bishop elections where others were chosen. Through the birth of two amazing grandsons. Two cookbooks published by my daughter. So many baptisms, deaths, weddings, and curates at St. Mary's. Travels from McKinney, Texas to Jordan and Israel, Scotland, England, Iceland, and all over the United States. 

Yesterday I cut my hair, now measuring past the middle of my back. 

When I was on retreat two weeks ago, as I was praying for a dear member of our parish, I had the Spirit nudge me to cut my hair. Kelly, our keyboardist, has been healing from cancer for several months, and is now in the midst of chemotherapy. Kelly has beautiful red, curly hair, and is losing it as part of her treatment. I wanted to cut my hair as a sign of my love and prayers for her. 

Kelly, in the midst of her own healing, has been a model of what it means to trust God, and to reframe the most difficult of situations into ones of joy. She, who is going through so very much, always has time to encourage and support others. I have been one of the many who have received her support, particularly post Tax Day Flood. 

At my brother's wedding in Dallas this past weekend, I told my niece about my plan to cut my hair this week. Dominique told me that she had heard that women cut their hair when they are ready to make a change in their lives. 

I told this to Kelly on Sunday. Both of us a little weepy over our own hair changes, we could celebrate that they represented God's continuing transformation in our lives in the midst of life situations neither of us would choose. 

With many prayers for all who lose their hair because of healing, especially those through chemotherapy and illness, and especially for dear Kelly, my ponytail is ready to be mailed so that it can be used to make a hairpiece for someone else who is in the midst of God's healing process. 

I think I'm going to love my new hairdo. 

Can we go one day?

I'm at my mother's farm thirty or so miles north of Dallas.

I woke up this morning to the report of yet another daily shooting. The words of a friend resonated in my spirit, "Can we please go one day without shooting one another?"  

Because it is we who shoot, and we who kill. Although I've never even held a gun in my hand, we, you and I, are part of decisions and choices, one relationship at a time, that result in senseless, undeserved death.   There is no them or those people. It is all us. 

As I walked and prayed this morning on the country roads of Chambersville, I walked past the cemetery. Even the American flag seemed weary of all the death. 

I stopped at the church at the end of the road and prayed some more. Which direction, which choice, which decision, is God's invitation to us?

In the words of Jesus in our Gospel from Luke this upcoming Sunday, I know the answer will include neighbor and compassion and mercy. 

Can we go one day with compassion and mercy?  One neighbor at a time?