Pentecost

My last few moments with my dad were frustrating.  As a pastor, I have spent time at many hospice bedsides.  But this was different.  It was my dad.  I wanted to take every single thing in.  The muddling of the skin on his legs, the way his cheekbones were suddenly pronounced, his arthritic pointer fingers and horse-like fingernails.  The last three days of his life I just sat next to him in a semi-comfortable reclining chair, joking with him, reading to him, holding his hand.  I watched our favorite movies and played his favorite native American flute music.  And when I needed to freak out, I left the room to breathe.  When I returned, I listened, attentively, to his each and every breath.  And when the time came for me to leave, to fly back to my 8-month-old baby, my teenager, and my husband, I kissed my dad on his cool head, stood up, rested my hand on his shoulder, and I told him I loved him.  He gestured for me to lean over.  He wanted to say something to me.  His mouth moved and sound came out, but I couldn’t decipher what he was trying to say.  As I walked out of the room that morning, knowing it was the last time I would see my dad alive, I could only guess what he had said to me.  Was it a fart joke?  Was he asking for more water?  Was he telling me he loved me?  Thanking me for sitting with him?  What had he said to me?!

The most frustrating part of this grief is that, while I hold on to that last memory with my dad, I have been holding a similar experience in tandem.  My daughter’s 14-month birthday is today and she has been babbling incessantly for several months now, but I have no idea what she’s saying.  There are times when she even grabs my face in her hands and speaks to me so directly, but I have no clue what words she’s using or what she’s trying to communicate.  It is beyond frustrating.  So, when she does this, I find myself answering her, saying “I love you too.”  Because that’s gotta be what she’s saying, right?!

I’ve been angry for months about the fact that I don’t know what my dad’s last words to me were, and I find myself angry that I don’t have a clue what my daughter is saying either.  I feel so left out.  I feel so separate from them both.  In my faith, separation from people is not okay.  It’s typically a sign of a spiritual sickness.

Whenever I’m confronted with a spiritual issue, my mentor asks me to pick a story in scripture that reminds me of whatever it is I’m feeling.  And so, when my dad died, the story that kept popping up in my mind was the story of Pentecost.

As a self-proclaimed church nerd, Pentecost has always been a favorite holy day of mine.  It is an important day in the church year where we celebrate the Holy Spirit in action, creating “the church”.  In the story of the Pentecost, people from all different ethnicities and countries of origin were gathered in one place, praising God.  All at once a rushing wind blew through and all those gathered understood each other.  In theological terms, they were “of the same spirit”.  Even though they spoke different languages, they understood each other.

I was not looking forward to today being Pentecost.  As a matter of fact, just thinking about today has been making me angry for months because I want a Pentecost experience with my dad and with my daughter.  I want to understand them.  I want to feel that we are “of the same spirit”.  I don’t think I realized how important language is to me and to my spiritual journey until now. 

These past six months have forced me to sit in the unknown.  I can continue to speculate what my dad was trying to say to me.  I can continue to speculate what my daughter is saying.  But ultimately, is it our language that makes us “of the same spirit”?  I don’t think so. 

Today I find comfort in the fact that even though I don’t know the words my father spoke on his death bed or my daughters babble, I know there is love.  And I wonder if that’s really what the Pentecost story is about.  There they were, all these different people from different places with different languages.  And it was their experience of God’s love that they were professing.  

In the game Dungeons and Dragons, each character has a class (rogue, paladin, cleric, etc., the “job” that they do) and each character has a race (halfling, elf, orc, human, etc., “what” they are).  One thing I always like about creating characters in D&D is that even though they all speak their own languages; the creators also made a “common” language.  This way characters can interact, wherever they are on the journey with whoever they encounter.   

Outside of the D&D world, here in real life, I wonder if love, love of each other and love of God, is our common language.  I wonder if love is what makes us “of the same spirit”.  And so, this Pentecost, I celebrate the love I share with my dad and my daughter.  I will never know what my dad was trying to say to me.  But I knew his heart.  And I know my daughter's heart.  Because that language, the language of our hearts is our common language.  That brings me comfort and makes me feel connected.  And that is a true Pentecost experience.  The feeling of connection.  Thanks be to God!

Mashups?! Yes!

One year, my best friend went to a Halloween party where he had to dress up as a mashup.  He dressed up as Deer Hunter Thompson (Like, a deer hunter and Hunter Thompson).  His friend went as Spongebob Marley.  

I just love mashups.  I love seeing how things connect with one another.  Like when two different songs have the same chord progressions.  I love hearing the beauty in bringing two things together.  It is true communion.  And it is holy.

People often ask me what we do with the leftover communion bread at the end of worship on a Communion Sunday service.  Do we throw it away?  Feed it to the birds?


Well, I save it.  I dry it and I save it.


A vital part of American Congregationalism is the annual Church Fair.  At the church where I serve, we have a turkey supper the night of the Church Fair.  People come from all over to have a traditional turkey dinner with all the fixings.

My addition to the Turkey Supper is the mashup of Communion Bread Stuffing.  I take the leftover communion bread I've been saving all year and turn it into stuffing to go along with the turkey, potatoes, cranberries, and apple crisp.  It seems only right to have "blessed" stuffing at a church Fair.  Right?!  Can I get an Amen?!

What does "Maundy" even mean??!!

What do feet, Latin, high carb foods, and Jesus all have in common?

Maundy Thursday!

Maundy Thursday is the day in the liturgical year where Christians remember when Jesus shared his last meal on earth with his closest friends and family.  Jesus knew he was about to die and he knew those closest to him would each, in their own way, play a role in his last few days.  Some of them gathered for that last meal would deny him, betray him, rebuke him, but others would sit at the bottom of the cross and weep.  Still others would offer him a proper burial and guard his tomb.  Jesus spent his life in mixed company.  It makes sense that he would share a meal, a sacred meal, with this same mixed company.

But where does the word "Maundy" come from in all of this and what does it mean?  

Maundy comes from the latin "mandatum" which is the first word in the phrase "Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos" which can be translated to "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you".  (John 13:34)

Just before sharing that sacred meal, Jesus washed the feet of his dear family and friends, and gave them that commandment.  Today many churches begin their Maundy Thursday services with a ritual foot-washing prior to sharing communion (the sacred carbs of bread and wine!) as a way to embody the lessons Jesus taught on that Holy night so long ago.

So today, serve the ones you love.  Wash their feet.  Share a meal with them.  But more importantly, remember that the people you break bread with are human.  Flaws and all.  Love them anyway.  Just as Jesus did.

Tacos on Palm Sunday?!

Most people don't realize that Palm Sunday is a feast day!  In many churches, Palm Sunday is also called The Feast Day of the Entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem.

Palm Sunday falls one week prior to Easter Sunday each year and marks the beginning of Holy Week.  It is the day when Christians gather to wave their palm fronds or palm branches in the air to commemorate Jesus' entry into Jerusalem just days before his arrest.  

So why was his entry into Jerusalem such a big deal?  

In Jesus' time, many Israelites were gathering in Jerusalem for the Passover festival.  As they gathered, stories began to spread of a great prophet and healer, Jesus.   People were talking about how he had brought about miracles, healed the sick, and even raised a man from the dead.  There was much chatter and many Israelites were excited to meet him.  

But not everyone was excited.  The Pharisees, Chief Priests, and others were nervous (and maybe a little scared) of the power and influence Jesus was gaining.  Up to that point, they hadn't been able to do anything to temper or control his influence.  But as Jesus entered Jerusalem, many people gathered and began proclaiming things like "Hosanna, hosanna in the Highest!" (hosanna means 'savior') and "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"  As they did this, they lay their cloaks, tree branches, and palm fronds on the ground to make a path as he entered the city.

This act was a way that the people were showing that they too believed he was the son of God.  This day, this triumphant entry into Jerusalem, marked the beginning of the series of events that would lead to Jesus' death.

In one way, it seems kind of odd to celebrate this day.  
On the other hand, it feels like celebrating is exactly what we should be doing.

Jesus lived his life teaching love, compassion, and service to all people.  "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus."  And while this was a threat to those in power during his time, he lived this truth and showed many others how to live into this truth too.  

So… tacos on Palm Sunday?  Absolutely!  While Jesus' sacrifice is somber, the example of his life, the ways he continues to teach us to live, even today, and the length he was willing to go to teach of God's love for all people should absolutely be celebrated.  
Even with tacos.

Watch the Palm Sunday Worship from Central Square Church in Bridgewater, MA

Ash Wednesday!

Why do people wear ashes on their foreheads or hands on Ash Wednesday?

Ash Wednesday is the beginning of the season of Lent.  Lent is the 40 days (not counting Sundays) that lead up to Easter.  The season of Lent is a time for deepening our connection with God.  It’s a time when we think about the type of person we want to be and how we want to live in the world.  For many, Lent is a time of simplification. 

When we strip away excess from our lives, we’re able to see more clearly what’s important. 

In the book of Genesis (in the Hebrew Bible) Chapter 3, verse 19 it says, “You were made from dust, and to dust you will return.”  On Ash Wednesday we use this scripture as a sort of mantra to remind us of our connection with all of God’s creation.  If we remember nothing else during the season of Lent, we should remember our connection with the divine in everything that surrounds us.

When we place ashes in a cross on our foreheads or on our hands, we’re physically reminded of our mortality, and this is a beautiful thing.  It puts everything else in life into perspective and allows us to more easily see and let go of that which might be holding us back from being all that we were created to be.

So, how do we get the "dust" for the Ash Wednesday service?

  

We use the palms from the Palm Sunday worship last year.  They're all dried out, so they burn very easily.  

 When the palm ashes have cooled down, I mix the ashes with oil to create a kind of paste.  During our Ash Wednesday worship service, when people come forward to receive their ashes, I dip my thumb into the paste and as I make the sign of the cross on their forehead or hand I say, "Remember mortal, from dust you came and to dust you shall return."

May you always remember these words of mortality, not just during Lent, but all the days of your journey on earth.  

Shrove Tuesday!

What’s the deal with Pancake Tuesday?  

Shrove Tuesday?  

Fat Tuesday?  

What’s all this mean?

Shrove Tuesday is the day before Ash Wednesday and marks the beginning of the season of Lent (the 40 days leading up to Easter).  The word “shrove” means to absolve, to confess.  So, on Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday we confess our sins in preparation for Lent.  We think about the things that keep us from living the lives God calls us to, and we let them go for a period of 40 days so that we may find our way back to the path of health and spiritual wellness.

Historically, Shrove Tuesday was the day when you’d clear your pantry of all the delicious and rich ingredients (eggs, butter, sugar, etc.) in preparation for fasting.  Many people still fast during Lent, refraining from meat, dairy, eggs, and other rich animal products. 

Lent is an opportunity to release something from your life that is holding you back from becoming the person you want to be.  It’s also a time where many people add something to their lives, like daily meditation or drinking more water.  More than anything else, Lent is a season where we are mindful of our relationship to the things in our lives that keep us from being connected with God.

So eat those pancakes today and remember the one who makes all things GOOD!