Good morning, guys and gals!
Let me say, with utmost sincerity, I miss you and I miss our very lovely and funny community!
I promise this will be a short message, but please read it, ok?
Here's the thing:
As many of you know, I'm in Seminary now. (That means I'm in graduate school studying for my Masters of Divinity.) Like you all, I'm a student again!!! (How was your back to school day yesterday?)
I'm learning all sorts of new things, and it makes me think of you and our youth program every day. I think of you, camps, retreats, God, church, and community, and it always raises questions in me. Camps are really special. Why? Retreats always make us feel so happy again. Why? We always look forward to those events, don't we? What is it that keeps us coming back?
I always say it's about friendship. And you all are the very best of friends. It's inspiring, and you are my friends (in a way), too. But there's something more...
I think what brings us back, again and again (in addition to friends!) is that we know there is a way of being together that is unique and special. When we gather, it is with an expectation that things will be different. We will accept each other. We will love and laugh with one another. We will play and have no worries. We will support.
Our community gives us a glimpse of another way of living. Our community gives us hints and clues of something special? Is it just friendship or is there something more?
What do you think? and feel? and know?
Joy, Hope, Love, and Peace... that we all might share! Trish
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
The Great "Red" St. Louis
My 2nd semester at Bangor Theological Seminary began this week under the following circumstances: a snow day (already) and the loss of The Great "Red" St. Louis, beloved (grand)father, friend, and Maine State Referee for 30+ years. He was something special.
The way I heard the story is as follows: Red and his wife Patti woke up Wednesday morning to find that the largest part of Eastern Maine was shut down. Snow day! Red announced... and perhaps along with the rest of us stole a glance out the window to check and see just how much white stuff had fallen and was still falling. They went back to sleep to catch a bit more rest. Beloved Red, whom I've known for 6+ years never aware of his given name, Lawrence, transitioned from his physical body to his Essence, his Spirit, his Soul, to Union with the Perfect Love and Awareness of our Creator God. We all lost a part of Red St. Louis that morning, and we will miss it greatly.
We sure will miss him. I know I do. Last night, I went to his visiting hours. I stood beside his open casket, willing him to open his eyes wide in his oh-so-special gesture of welcome-- a mixture of genuine surprise and pleasure to see me. I wanted so badly for his normal reaction. Red's natural predisposition was one of Welcome. Everyone was welcome in his presence-- and we felt it. I felt it. There's something about being welcome(d) which gives us a sense of worth, of renewal, of value. A moment with Red made life a little better. A few hours... well, you can imagine. It was so good for the soul.
When I came to Hampden a little over 6 years ago, I arrived in a new school excited for what the year would bring, completely naive to the true challenges of teaching and meeting a new group of friends. Much to my great fortune, there was a bowling league which I joined. Enter Red St. Louis and others like him. Before I knew it, I was calling home and telling my Mom that I felt like I had a little family up here. There were people that were loving and normal and exceptional... and that welcomed me to their group.
I didn't realize until last night that Red St. Louis had meant so very much to me. By virtue of a little bit of common sense and paying attention, I can see he meant so very much to so many of us. I don't have to stretch one bit to say that it is because he ministered to everyone he met. He lived from his very center which was fully of Love, Joy, Laughter, and Acceptance. He embodied what many ministers simply call "The Ministry of Welcome". It is not a fancy name. Why hide something so Special behind a fancy name? Call it what it is, then let is speak for itself.
Maybe that's why I never knew Red's name is Lawrence. Lawrence seems too fancy for the man I/we knew and adored. Red. That's simple. Just call him Red, then let him speak for himself. He sure could do that.
I'm not one to believe that God intervenes in nature to bring about any type of judgment on humans. To me, God didn't bring the earthquakes on Haiti anymore than God prevents some other catastrophe in order to save anyone else. But here's one thing that makes me smile. It's poetic, lovely, and peaceful for me to think about Red passing in his sleep, as the snow gently falls outside, with his gorgeous-in-every-way wife sleeping by his side. And so perhaps in my mind, on this one occasion, I might choose to remember that God brought the snowday so Red and Patti could go back to bed and rest together.
Why? Because that memory makes me feel warm inside, just like Red did. In this way, I honor his life and memory.
Joy, Hope, Love, and Peace... that we all might share--especially with his family at this time, Trish
The way I heard the story is as follows: Red and his wife Patti woke up Wednesday morning to find that the largest part of Eastern Maine was shut down. Snow day! Red announced... and perhaps along with the rest of us stole a glance out the window to check and see just how much white stuff had fallen and was still falling. They went back to sleep to catch a bit more rest. Beloved Red, whom I've known for 6+ years never aware of his given name, Lawrence, transitioned from his physical body to his Essence, his Spirit, his Soul, to Union with the Perfect Love and Awareness of our Creator God. We all lost a part of Red St. Louis that morning, and we will miss it greatly.
We sure will miss him. I know I do. Last night, I went to his visiting hours. I stood beside his open casket, willing him to open his eyes wide in his oh-so-special gesture of welcome-- a mixture of genuine surprise and pleasure to see me. I wanted so badly for his normal reaction. Red's natural predisposition was one of Welcome. Everyone was welcome in his presence-- and we felt it. I felt it. There's something about being welcome(d) which gives us a sense of worth, of renewal, of value. A moment with Red made life a little better. A few hours... well, you can imagine. It was so good for the soul.
When I came to Hampden a little over 6 years ago, I arrived in a new school excited for what the year would bring, completely naive to the true challenges of teaching and meeting a new group of friends. Much to my great fortune, there was a bowling league which I joined. Enter Red St. Louis and others like him. Before I knew it, I was calling home and telling my Mom that I felt like I had a little family up here. There were people that were loving and normal and exceptional... and that welcomed me to their group.
I didn't realize until last night that Red St. Louis had meant so very much to me. By virtue of a little bit of common sense and paying attention, I can see he meant so very much to so many of us. I don't have to stretch one bit to say that it is because he ministered to everyone he met. He lived from his very center which was fully of Love, Joy, Laughter, and Acceptance. He embodied what many ministers simply call "The Ministry of Welcome". It is not a fancy name. Why hide something so Special behind a fancy name? Call it what it is, then let is speak for itself.
Maybe that's why I never knew Red's name is Lawrence. Lawrence seems too fancy for the man I/we knew and adored. Red. That's simple. Just call him Red, then let him speak for himself. He sure could do that.
I'm not one to believe that God intervenes in nature to bring about any type of judgment on humans. To me, God didn't bring the earthquakes on Haiti anymore than God prevents some other catastrophe in order to save anyone else. But here's one thing that makes me smile. It's poetic, lovely, and peaceful for me to think about Red passing in his sleep, as the snow gently falls outside, with his gorgeous-in-every-way wife sleeping by his side. And so perhaps in my mind, on this one occasion, I might choose to remember that God brought the snowday so Red and Patti could go back to bed and rest together.
Why? Because that memory makes me feel warm inside, just like Red did. In this way, I honor his life and memory.
Joy, Hope, Love, and Peace... that we all might share--especially with his family at this time, Trish
Friday, January 14, 2011
Humility Now! & Transparency
Last weekend, I played in a volleyball tournament with a very talented and skilled team. Their level of play, and my observation of the abilities in the entire gym, combined to allow me to play, in my opinion, the best all-around day of volleyball I have ever played. This was incredibly exciting. An added benefit... the team I was a part of won the tournament and we had a blast competing together.
The downside: my ego kicked in. I'm not talking about my ego like "Oh, I'm so good. Look at me go" ego. Nope. (To the contrary, there were FAR better players than I represented last weekend. I marveled, wonderfully inspired, by what their/our bodies could/can achieve!) I'm talking about my Freudian-ego-- that part of me which seeks to sort out my identity, which seeks to define me in terms that are Good, will bring Pleasure, and in many ways anesthetize any sense of inferiority, pain, or discontent which may arise.
I have made a conscious practice the past 4 to 5 months to let go of my ego, at times more and at times less gracefully aware of my most humbling existence in our vast and diverse human race. I think, perhaps, my ego took this opportunity to rise up mightily and remind me of its immense power to cloud the mind when left unchecked. Sports and competition: two of its greatest allies in my life. This backlash-ing attack of ego has left me nearly unable to recognize myself or find a center from which to operate. It may sound dramatic but such is my existence.
And the complexities of life always add in as factors in the ebb and flow of life's equation: I've been sick. I'm coming down from the Christmas high. (always something to look forward to in the Holiday Season... what now?) I'm making some important decisions about work and school, scheduling and finances, home and hearth. Dare I be transparent enough to say that monthly hormonal event we females endure to bring most precious new life to earth came to visit me? (Yes, I do dare. But see how I put it in such lovely terms so as to cover up my embarrassment at mentioning it. I'm all about full disclosure at present.) And recent experience at seminary has left me wondering what ways work best for me in my approach to God, the Eternal, my inner relationship with Divinity.
This week I read two of Reverend Kate Braestrup's memoirs, Here If You Need Me and Marriage and Other Acts of Charity. Kate is chaplain for the Maine Warden Service. Of the many stories that touched me in her books, the gem which helped bring greatest awareness was a discussion regarding transparency.
"Exactly! Yes! Yes! The whole point of a window is that you look through it. Right?... The whole purpose and function of a window is to look through it, to see what lies beyond it.... Ahhhh, indeed! Yes, my clever friends, this is what Tillich was trying to get at: Scripture is a window. A prayer is a window. The Bible is a window and even- though Tillich got in trouble for saying so-- Jesus was a window." (p104 Marriage & Other Acts...)
If that is all true, then it may also be true that this brief period of my life- marked by depressive moods, a poor and breaking heart and Spirit, and an inability to rise-up as my extrovert personality generally leads- is also transparent. Staying present in the experience, I can let it Be, without judgment or the need to change it, confident this experience is a part of Divine-Manifestation unfolding.
Fortunately for me, I am surrounded by people who Graciously and Grace-fully love me enough to let it happen, let me happen. My boyfriend, my sisters, my Mom, my friends, my nieces even (though they'd prefer I "make them laugh" on command while watching them in the tubby), accept me, talk with me, Love me... amazingly expecting nothing in return.
Surrounded by Love, I recognize my ego's need for control, definition, meaning.
Surrounded by Love, I breathe into it and Let Go. Transparently aware.
Joy, Hope, Love, and Peace... that we all might share, Trish
The downside: my ego kicked in. I'm not talking about my ego like "Oh, I'm so good. Look at me go" ego. Nope. (To the contrary, there were FAR better players than I represented last weekend. I marveled, wonderfully inspired, by what their/our bodies could/can achieve!) I'm talking about my Freudian-ego-- that part of me which seeks to sort out my identity, which seeks to define me in terms that are Good, will bring Pleasure, and in many ways anesthetize any sense of inferiority, pain, or discontent which may arise.
I have made a conscious practice the past 4 to 5 months to let go of my ego, at times more and at times less gracefully aware of my most humbling existence in our vast and diverse human race. I think, perhaps, my ego took this opportunity to rise up mightily and remind me of its immense power to cloud the mind when left unchecked. Sports and competition: two of its greatest allies in my life. This backlash-ing attack of ego has left me nearly unable to recognize myself or find a center from which to operate. It may sound dramatic but such is my existence.
And the complexities of life always add in as factors in the ebb and flow of life's equation: I've been sick. I'm coming down from the Christmas high. (always something to look forward to in the Holiday Season... what now?) I'm making some important decisions about work and school, scheduling and finances, home and hearth. Dare I be transparent enough to say that monthly hormonal event we females endure to bring most precious new life to earth came to visit me? (Yes, I do dare. But see how I put it in such lovely terms so as to cover up my embarrassment at mentioning it. I'm all about full disclosure at present.) And recent experience at seminary has left me wondering what ways work best for me in my approach to God, the Eternal, my inner relationship with Divinity.
This week I read two of Reverend Kate Braestrup's memoirs, Here If You Need Me and Marriage and Other Acts of Charity. Kate is chaplain for the Maine Warden Service. Of the many stories that touched me in her books, the gem which helped bring greatest awareness was a discussion regarding transparency.
"Exactly! Yes! Yes! The whole point of a window is that you look through it. Right?... The whole purpose and function of a window is to look through it, to see what lies beyond it.... Ahhhh, indeed! Yes, my clever friends, this is what Tillich was trying to get at: Scripture is a window. A prayer is a window. The Bible is a window and even- though Tillich got in trouble for saying so-- Jesus was a window." (p104 Marriage & Other Acts...)
If that is all true, then it may also be true that this brief period of my life- marked by depressive moods, a poor and breaking heart and Spirit, and an inability to rise-up as my extrovert personality generally leads- is also transparent. Staying present in the experience, I can let it Be, without judgment or the need to change it, confident this experience is a part of Divine-Manifestation unfolding.
Fortunately for me, I am surrounded by people who Graciously and Grace-fully love me enough to let it happen, let me happen. My boyfriend, my sisters, my Mom, my friends, my nieces even (though they'd prefer I "make them laugh" on command while watching them in the tubby), accept me, talk with me, Love me... amazingly expecting nothing in return.
Surrounded by Love, I recognize my ego's need for control, definition, meaning.
Surrounded by Love, I breathe into it and Let Go. Transparently aware.
Joy, Hope, Love, and Peace... that we all might share, Trish
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)