Category: Church

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Hello Dalai

Last July when my buddies Sue and Lynda came down for lunch at the C’ville Downtown Mall, they noticed signs for an upcoming visit by the Dalai Lama and determined that we should make a date to regather on October 11th for the event.  Since I live down here, they put me in charge of tickets, etc.

Sue and Lynda are not your run of the mill friends.  They are a dynamic twosome, full of energy and “joie de vivre”. Whenever I am with them, life becomes an adventure, an escape from the everyday, and the world becomes a place of wonder and awe.  That doesn’t mean they lead me astray, although there was that one time when they egged me on to climb onto the back of a dirty old horse and ride him bareback in my party attire…    Our fun is always good and clean, except of course for the horse.

We have been friends for more than fifteen years, since we lived in Vienna, VA for a couple of years in the mid 90’s.  I met Sue first, she was the Director of Religious Education at our parish and Lynda was her long time friend.  They sort of took me under-wing as their sidekick and we’ve been adventuring and supporting each other ever since.

So, last Thursday they came down to see the Dalai Lama.  It was a glorious fall day; the sky was clear and the sun shone warm enough just to take the chill out of the crisp air.  I’d planned ahead by purchasing a parking pass so finding a place to leave the car wasn’t an issue and our seats were wonderful.

The audience in the amphitheater were an interesting lot.  As Lynda put it, “there was a lot of granola out there!”  Charlottesville has a strong Buddihist community and UVA has a large Tibetan Studies Department so there was a healthy mix of vegans, vegetarians, Buddists, Tibetans, students and everyday folks, all kept under close scrutiny by a sizable contingent of State Department and Secret Service agents in black suits and sunglasses.

Before the Dalai Lama spoke, there were performances by the Red Crooked Sky American Indian Dance Troupe,Techung, a Tibetan folk singer and children from a local Tibetan school.  The costumes, music and energy all worked to calm the crowd and help focus on the main event,  a presentation, “Beyond Religion, Ethics for a New World” by His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet.

Keith Anderson from the “Red Crooked Sky American Indian Dance Troupe” We saw him walking down the Mall; he was replendant!

As he quietly took the stage and the audience stood in applause, I felt goosebumps go up my arms and neck and I quietly wondered if I would feel the same in the presence of the Pope.  I guess I’ll never know.  He spoke softly, smiling the whole time with the occasional assistance from his translator.  Sue, Lynda and I all envied not only the translator for his close proximity to the Dalai Lama but also the Dalai Lama for having someone constantly at his side providing the word he was searching for.  What a perk that is!

And, even though the title of the talk was “Beyond Religion”, the Dalai Lama in no way dismissed or discounted religion.  Instead, he encouraged us to look to each other with love and compassion, embracing the common elements found in all religions and look beyond our differences in dealing with the challenges we all face in this world.  His style was less of preaching and more of gentle leading.  He exuded warmth and cheerfulness, and chuckled throughout his talk, usually referring in a humbling way about himself; not self-effacing, simply finding humor in his humanity.

It struck me that perhaps this is how Jesus’ followers saw him, a simple holy man, travelling from place to place, sharing his message of compassion and love of neighbor.  No, the Dalai Lama is not THE son of God, but he certainly is A son of God and one in whom I am certain He is well pleased.  I am so grateful that Sue and Lynda saw the sign and guided me into this adventure.

more to follow…..

 

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Pardon My Social Faux-Pas

I know it’s not polite to discuss politics or religion in public, especially if you hold a view contrary to what the most vocal groups share so fully on Facebook and in jokes forwarded ad nauseum via the internet and email but I’d like to quietly offer a connection I made last Sunday during Mass.

Dave and I were lectors; a task we both cherish, to stand before our community and proclaim the Word.  We make a point of preparing to proclaim God’s word and not just read it like we’re giving directions to install a DVR or assemble a piece of furniture we bought in a box.  The Word is alive and should be presented that way.

So, there I was, listening to Dave read the following from 2 Corintians…………..

“Brothers and sisters: As you excel in every respect, in faith, discourse, knowledge, all earnestness, and in the love we have for you, may you excel in this gracious act also.
For you know the gracious act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich. Not that others should have relief while you are burdened, but that as a matter of equality your abundance at the present time should supply their needs, so that their abundance may also supply your needs, that there may be equality. As it is written: Whoever had much did not have more, and whoever had little did not have less.”

…………. when it occurred to me that maybe St. Paul’s message could be applied to us given the timing of this reading and last week’s Supreme Court ruling on the Obama health care bill.   St. Paul was pretty clear to the Corintians that Christians should share equaly in all things.  While I’m not saying that this new health bill is what St. Paul had in mind, I do believe that the idea behind it is.  Health care should be made available to all persons in this country.  If we can do all other great stuff we do, why can’t we make that happen?

I think it’s time as Christians and Americans to stop the shouting at each other and start actually discussing the problems of inequality we face in our country today.  The bullying has got to stop.  Non Christians are more than welcome to join the conversation.  It’s just that those of us who call ourselves Christians should be looking toward a higher authority than PACs and other interest groups for our guidance. We should trust in the Lord and not let fears keep us from doing what is right.

Many will say, “Sure, in a perfect world, maybe that would work.”   I say, Jesus gave us the instructions and kingdom values to make our world a perfect world.  Now we just have to agree on what that means….. Heavy sigh!

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Babe in Arms

Yesterday afternoon at choir practice (yes, I  went to choir practice) I had the pleasure of holding a four week old baby girl while her grandmother played the keyboard.

When I arrived, she was sitting in her car seat, sort of awake and a little fussy.  It was pretty warm in the church and she was dressed in a terry sleeper and covered with a receiving blanket.  My first thought was that she was uncomfortable in her seat so I uncovered her and began to rock her seat.

That worked for a while until she began to wiggle and really fuss so I seized the opportunity – carpe diem – and picked her up.  After all, we couldn’t have her disturbing her grandmother while she was accompanying the choir in Triduum and Easter music prep now could we?

I admit I am a known baby lover.  If there is an infant anywhere near me, my attention will hone in like radar.  I love talking to them and watching their tiny faces scrunch in thoughtful contemplation of my voice.  They are great listeners – when they are not crying.

This baby, Lydia, was special.  The shape of her face and the mop of dark hair reminded me so much of Maggie when she was that age.  At four weeks her body had not yet full unfolded, with her knees tucked in semi fetal position.  She was a solid child, with good muscle control.  I felt such peace as I rocked her, looking into her little face and watching her designer print NUK move up and down and she worked it.  I could have held the dozing baby in my arms indefinitely.

After about half and hour or so her mother arrived.  I dutifully handed her over and gave a full report of why I had her since she didn’t know me.  Once in her mother’s arms, she stirred slowly and lazily opened her eyes.  Her mother cooed and recognizing the voice, Lydia cooed back in a special intimate way.  I’d forgotten that detail from my own babies’ lives; how they would react with special sounds reserved only for me when I’d pick them up.

I thanked Lydia’s mommy for letting me spend the time with her.  It was so special to revisit my own days of early motherhood.  Those days were precious even with the sleep deprivation and piles of laundry.  I’m not saying I’d care to go back, or God forbid raise another child, but to just have the chance to feel the familiar bundle in my arms and see the face of a sleeping infant was a treasure I’ll not soon forget.

 

 

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Wrong Time, Right Place

Okay.  I admit I’ve been away for a while.  I suppose you want to know what I’ve been up to this past week or so.  Well, here goes.

Most of last week I struggled with my cold.  It didn’t slow me down too much, but I did take naps most afternoons.

Friday morning, I decided to go to Harris Teeter to pick up my 47 cents per pound turkey before my Prayer Shawl meeting.  I took my time going up and down the aisles, filling my cart with their specials knowing I had until 11:00.  After a while, I glanced down at my watch and discovered it was 10:50.  I hurried to the checkout where I stood behind an older gentleman with a few items in his cart and many questions regarding his receipt.  I realized patience was my best course of action since nobody would care if I was late.

After loading my groceries into the back of the CRV, I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.  I happened to glance at the clock and noticed that it read 10:15.  Oops!  Apparantly I never adjusted my watch when we fell back with the clocks a couple of weeks ago.  As my reality sinqed with the real world, I realized I would be really early for meeting instead of late.  I decided to head over to Starbucks for a latte.

With my latte and lemon pound cake in hand, I drove across the street to the church and gave my friend Sarah a call to kill some time.  As we were talking, I happened to notice some steam or smoke coming from the engine.  Glancing at the temperature gauge, I saw my engine was hot – something I’ve never seen on this car.  So, I said goodbye to Sarah. popped the hood and gave Dave a call.

My phone was apparantly in the process of updating something and promptly dropped my call and froze the touch screen.  By this time, some of the ladies were beginning to arrive for our meeting.  Soon my friend Carol approached the car to take a look with me.  I gave her the rundown and she called her brother.  A few minutes later, a fellow who works with Dave showed up to see if he could help. (Dave was interviewing a prospective hire and would be tied up for the next hour.)  For the next ten minutes or so Carol, her brother, Dave’s associate and I debated on what my next course of action should be.  Since it appeared that the problem was with the radiator, we decided to let it cool until we could add some water and then I would drive it to the garage around the corner.  Knitting in hand, Carol and I went into the church together. So, I actually was late for my meeting after all!

An hour later, Dave arrived.  We transferred the groceries to his car and he followed me to the repair shop.   

Some might think I was just lucky to have been at the church.  I prefer to think it was God’s way of reminding me that I’m not alone.  After all, technically, this isn’t even my  church, but these ladies are a big part of my community.

As for the CRV, it needed a new radiator

 

 

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Sunday Traffic

What a difference an extra hour of morning light makes! I guess I just didn’t realize that the dark beginnings of my days were dragging me down.  Now the world is awakening when I am.  Best of all, I can let Izzie out earlier in my day (although to her I’m sure nothing has changed.)  No more caterwalling at the back door while I drink my coffee!

Yesterday morning as we were driving out of the neighborhood to Mass, Dave abruptly stopped the car.  I figured he’d forgotten something and we were about to turn and head back to the house.  Then he said, “Well, are you going to cross or what?”  I looked out the windshield and there, on my side of the car stood a beautiful doe.  After we all shared a moment of “deer in the headlights”, she turned gracefully and disappeared in the brush.  That’s the kind of traffic I like to see on my way to church!

 

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Ecumenical Me

It appears that it takes more than one church community to keep me happily connected to my faith.  Sundays Dave and I attend the one (very early) Mass at our tiny nearby parish and on Wednesdays we go to choir practice (yes, I’ve finally joined).  Worship there is on a small scale, both intimate and isolating.  Although we are not having difficulty in becoming involved,  we are having more of a challenge in feeling connected.

On Thursdays and Fridays though, I hang with the Lutherans.

It all started when soon after moving here, my neighbor, Angela asked what I liked to do to keep busy.  She mentioned that her church had a prayer shawl ministry that met on Friday mornings and asked if I’d be interested in tagging along with her.  I thought it would be a great way to meet more people and to spend time doing something I love.  So, a few weeks later, I met her at Peace Lutheran and became one of the prayer shawl ladies.

I’ve heard of the prayer shawl ministry before and at one time thought about getting one going at St. Marks but my time was already too full with work, home, church and friends to find the time or focus to do so.  The concept is simple, you knit shawls and blankets for folks in the community who need some spiritual support.  As we knit, we are updated on the sick of the community.  When a project is completed, it is carefully folded and tied with a ribbon and labelled with the name of the recipient.  At the end of the session, the group gathers in the sanctuary where the shawl is draped lovingly upon a cross-shaped mini quilt rack in the center of the main aisle.  We join hands and offer prayers for all the sick and dedicated the new shawl.  The shawls remain in the sanctuary through the weekend so that the congregation can touch them and offer prayers as they approach the table for Communion.

The idea is so simple, so loving, so meaningful.  Mind you, not all of the knitters in this group are as experienced as me.  For many, this is the only knitting they have ever done so each stitch is ever so carefully and intentionally placed on the needle.   But the results are anything but second rate.  There is no pressure to rush through a project, only words of encouragement.   I can only imagine what it must feel like to receive one of these special items, so tenderly crafted for the express purpose of providing comfort, like a warm hug from the community.  I am truly enjoying my time with them and find myself drawn into the greater community through the prayer and caring for its people in a way that I seem to lack in my own parish.

Yesterday, I began a Bible study with a small group of ladies at Peace Lutheran.  Again, my friend Angela was the catalyst.   It has been a very long time since I’ve had the opportunity to participate in a concentrated study like this and I have hungered for it.  Until yesterday, I didn’t realize just how much.   The name of the course is “Jesus the One and Only” by Beth Moore.  My Protestant friends all seem to know of her but she is new to me.  It took a while to get past the more vibrant and at times down-right sappy sentimentalism of her style but her scholarship is good.  She takes great pains to going back to key Greek words and expanding the translation.  I love that!

Although this is a new group of women, I already feel a part of the community because of the insight I’ve gained from my time with the Prayer Shawl ministry.  I feel so drawn to the people in this church.  As always, I trust there is a plan for all of this.  Until the blueprints are revealed to me, I will continue in both places.  After all there is only one God and if as we believe this God is present in three persons, why can’t this presence also be in more than one church?  I’ll keep you posted but for now, I’ve got to grab my knitting!

 

 

 

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The Church Off the Map

Finding a good fit in a church community is very important to Dave and me.  Years ago, before we moved back to the mainland from Hawaii, I conducted a thorough search of area parishes to help us pinpoint a neighborhood.  I actually sent letters to over a dozen church communities to request information and included SASEs for return mail.  Based on what little replies I received, we chose our neighborhood and were happy with our choice.

When we moved back to Virginia Beach, we returned to our former parish in hopes of regaining our place in that community.  For the most part, that worked out well, although, “our place” wasn’t a held position so there was some adjusting, but nonetheless, we did find our new place in short order and enjoyed our time there until again it was time to leave.

Choosing a new parish here is not so complicated.  When we Googled Catholic communities prior to our house hunt, not so many names popped up.  In fact, in the area closest to Dave’s office, two parishes were listed; Church of the Incarnation in Charlottesville and Shepherd of the Hills in a place called Quinque.   We asked among our friends at St. Mark’s and many had heard of Incarnation and reported it was a dynamic parish with lots to offer.  On the contrary, Shepherd of the Hills was only known as a mission parish from the church in Elkton and no one knew where Quinque was.

Our first Sunday in our new home, we decided to go with the known entity and attended Mass at Church of the Incarnation.  Located about twelve miles south on Rt 29, it sits on a pretty lot on hill overlooking a Marriott Courtyard and a Toys R Us.  The worship space was modern and comfortable, the people were friendly and the Liturgy familiar.  After Mass, Dave stopped one of the choir folk to get a feel for group and was welcomed warmly.  I think it’s safe to say we would be happy there.

Last week, we decided we would give Shepherd of the Hills a try.  First, I printed out a map with directions so we could do an evening drive by.  Mapquest let us down!  Now that I look back, I think the map took us to the PO box at the Quinque Post Office instead of the actual church.  Luckily, Quinque isn’t very big so we were able to navigate ourselves to our destination with ended up being exactly five miles door to door.

To get to Shepherd of the Hills Catholic Church, you have to turn off the highway onto a winding two-lane country road.  Incredible views of the Blue Ridge are off to the right as you head round the bend where the church sits on the left.  Mass was scheduled for 8:30 AM.  On Sunday morning, with a less than ten minute drive-time we arrived about ten minute before Mass was to start.  However, people were just beginning to trickle in and Mass didn’t actually begin for another fifteen minutes or so – sort of like “Hawaii time”.  No one seemed concerned about the delay, in fact Father actually held up the procession waiting for people to be seated.

Mass was simple but complete.  The choir was in fact a duet; a woman on keyboards and another on guitar.  The worship space well lit and airy, and the tone relaxed and informal yet reverent.  As I sat there, I thought how nice it would be to be a part of this community but with such a small music ministry, I didn’t think it would fill Dave’s needs.

On our way out, Father stood at the door greeting everyone.  As I extended my hand he took it and said, “Tell me your name.”  I introduced myself and then Dave piped in.  We told him we’d just moved into the area and we were checking out the local parishes.  He smiled and said he’d keep his fingers crossed that we’d choose them.

As we drove home, Dave said he thought maybe a smaller parish would be better for us, that they looked like they could use us.  I agreed.  Plus, he said, it was such a short drive and we’re early risers anyway.  I agreed as well.  So, he concluded, we should continue to attend Shepherd of the Hills for at least the next few weeks to get a real feel for the parish  How could I argue?