today i've had some interesting conversations.
first up we workshopped the writing of curriculum for the BMin at college, a task in which i have been invited to share. the more we explored the possibilities for shaping the introductory biblical studies courses the more excited i got - it all resonates so much with the biblical storytelling i do, the coaching i am beginning to do with preachers, and the work i hope to do with congregations and in a phd in terms of equipping people to effectively communicate the biblical story. aaah. it's so exciting!!!
then lunch with Cam, who is dreaming of creating a monthly space / event that opens up questions of spirituality with a Christ-centredness that honours the different paths we take in our spirituality, the myriad encounters people have with God. and the need we have in this movement of fresh expressions / alternative faith communities to be connected, to support, affirm, encourage each other in a radically different approach to Christian community to the competition for more bums on seats so that we have more money in the coffers so that we don't 'die' way we've been doing church for decades. oh so exciting!
where is my story taking me, i wonder, as these conversations happen, as i follow the Spirit into emerging possibilities for a biblical storyteller .... i wonder
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
2010 biblical storytelling gathering: my memorable moments
In no particular order, some moments that linger in my memory from this weekend of stories, stories, everywhere ...
Carole and Rina telling the parable of the father and his two sons with their drama bags. I've seen them tell this before, and was again struck by Rina's movement in the drama bag as the older son turns his back on the father and his brother, refusing to go inside. Of course, that's where we leave the story, and we don't know whether he will walk away or turn back and join the celebrations for his brother's safe return to the family. Rina's depiction of that moment in the story returns to me every time I tell the story.
Carole and Rina telling the parable of the father and his two sons with their drama bags. I've seen them tell this before, and was again struck by Rina's movement in the drama bag as the older son turns his back on the father and his brother, refusing to go inside. Of course, that's where we leave the story, and we don't know whether he will walk away or turn back and join the celebrations for his brother's safe return to the family. Rina's depiction of that moment in the story returns to me every time I tell the story.
David's facial expressions as he told the story of John the baptiser eating locusts and honey.
Denise's stories from her people in the Flinders' Ranges, and the way she used story to teach us some of her language, story as a path to healing and reconciliation. A gift for which I will always be grateful.
Steve's creative retelling of stories we know so well - infusing them with detail to breathe new life into them and invite us to discover meaning like never before, moving us deeply.
Steve's affirmation of us all as storytellers, not only of biblical stories, but of the stories we carry with us from our experience and learning and interactions with others and the world and the Sacred. And the comment: there was such wisdom shared in your session - and it came from us!
Annette's telling of the Book of Esther, a story that is so dear to my own heart. She told me she was a little nervous because she knows it's place in my heart and my life; she needn't have been. I was delighted to have it brought to life before me, and grateful for this gift to our gathering, the invitation into a story the Christian community doesn't know so well.
Ian's stories for Christmas, told in song and rap. I love that he tells stories in such a unique way, infusing them with his energy and passion, humour and creativity.
Singing Alleluia.
The healing service led by Julia. The way that Deb and Ian and Ruth joined in the leading of the music for us as we sang the stories of our tradition.
There will probably be more, as I continue to reflect on a truly remarkable weekend. These are my people, and I love this community deeply.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
blur
I am home. It has been a most intense weekend of story, community, creativity, discovery, experiences, hard work, and laughter.
I am tired. It has been a while since I have had a day off, and I am aware that in taking a full day off tomorrow, I will be yet another day beyond the deadline I didn't meet last Thursday.
I am grateful. The opportunity to lead a community that means more to me with each passing year was humbling, challenging, and, ultimately, rewarding. The friends I have made through this network are becoming good friends, as much as they are the fellow storytellers with whom I have felt connected in a different way until now.
I am bemused. Not really, but I have been asked to create a blog for the network, which takes the list of blogs to, well let's count: sarah tells stories, the esther project , nbs sa , black wood jazz , and whatever I name the new one - that's five. that's a little ridiculous. or fulfilling the title of this, my first - sarah does indeed tell stories, lots of them!
My eyes won't stay open, and my fingers are typing double the number of letters necessary with all the typos, so perhaps I shall go to sleep.
I am tired. It has been a while since I have had a day off, and I am aware that in taking a full day off tomorrow, I will be yet another day beyond the deadline I didn't meet last Thursday.
I am grateful. The opportunity to lead a community that means more to me with each passing year was humbling, challenging, and, ultimately, rewarding. The friends I have made through this network are becoming good friends, as much as they are the fellow storytellers with whom I have felt connected in a different way until now.
I am bemused. Not really, but I have been asked to create a blog for the network, which takes the list of blogs to, well let's count: sarah tells stories, the esther project , nbs sa , black wood jazz , and whatever I name the new one - that's five. that's a little ridiculous. or fulfilling the title of this, my first - sarah does indeed tell stories, lots of them!
My eyes won't stay open, and my fingers are typing double the number of letters necessary with all the typos, so perhaps I shall go to sleep.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
talking about story
sitting outside on the lawns at Nunyara talking about story. we've been talking about the letters of Paul, and remembering that the letters that Paul actually wrote are all about mutuality and calling us all to live lives of love and gentleness and graciousness.
I've had an idea - what would it be like to imagine the letters that might have been written to Paul to evoke the responses to particular situations.
something on which to ruminate ... a story project to inspire some creativity.
I've had an idea - what would it be like to imagine the letters that might have been written to Paul to evoke the responses to particular situations.
something on which to ruminate ... a story project to inspire some creativity.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
stories, stories, everywhere
the highlight of a biblical storyteller's year is the annual national gathering of the network. a weekend of telling biblical stories, other stories, our stories, sharing our experiences, honing our craft, and nurturing our selves and our community.
but it's a different sort of highlight for me this year, as i am on the coordinating team. so there are some last minute stresses, but even more, a whole lot of anticipation and nervous energy. i don't take naturally to administrative things, and I'm kind of over the finer details of the organising stuff ...
on the other hand i know all the creative and inspiring elements that are going to come together, which is exciting. and it's been great to have the opportunity to shape an event that has been so important for me over the past four years. you know, us south aussies have crafted an event that offers a breadth of encounters with the biblical story and the stories of our lives, and ways to tell those stories.
I know that our keynote speaker, Steve Taylor, has been having fun preparing for the weekend, our worship leader, Julia Pitman, is also having fun shaping worship for a group who love to sing, the workshop leaders are looking forward to the opportunity to lead sessions on lectio divina, Godly Play, narrative and healing, imagination and more, and i've seen the program for our dinner on saturday celebration our 10th gathering with memories of the previous nine.
so, though in some ways i am tired before it even begins, i am anticipating the adrenaline and energy kicking in when i arrive at nunyara tomorrow and see my fellow storytellers that will carry me through. and when i sit back and look at it, we are well prepared, and any problems will be easily overcome and nothing to lose sleep over.
for now, i will sleep, before the weekend of stories, stories - everywhere!
but it's a different sort of highlight for me this year, as i am on the coordinating team. so there are some last minute stresses, but even more, a whole lot of anticipation and nervous energy. i don't take naturally to administrative things, and I'm kind of over the finer details of the organising stuff ...
on the other hand i know all the creative and inspiring elements that are going to come together, which is exciting. and it's been great to have the opportunity to shape an event that has been so important for me over the past four years. you know, us south aussies have crafted an event that offers a breadth of encounters with the biblical story and the stories of our lives, and ways to tell those stories.
I know that our keynote speaker, Steve Taylor, has been having fun preparing for the weekend, our worship leader, Julia Pitman, is also having fun shaping worship for a group who love to sing, the workshop leaders are looking forward to the opportunity to lead sessions on lectio divina, Godly Play, narrative and healing, imagination and more, and i've seen the program for our dinner on saturday celebration our 10th gathering with memories of the previous nine.
so, though in some ways i am tired before it even begins, i am anticipating the adrenaline and energy kicking in when i arrive at nunyara tomorrow and see my fellow storytellers that will carry me through. and when i sit back and look at it, we are well prepared, and any problems will be easily overcome and nothing to lose sleep over.
for now, i will sleep, before the weekend of stories, stories - everywhere!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
How amazing it is, the life-giving power of story
I've just had an email from Steve Taylor, who is having fun preparing to lead the biblical storytelling gathering this weekend. Engaging with story through imagination and creativity, retelling the Sacred Story of God's way of love in the world for our world today - it's exciting, a journey of discovery and delight as God is revealed in each new layer of meaning.
And I have spent yesterday and today attending seminars on Matthew's story of Jesus with Alan Cadwallader. One of the questions that was posed, broader than simply in relation to Matthew's Gospel, was 'what have we lost in the recording of our story in writing?' I led a workshop on storytelling and Matthew yesterday afternoon, in which we came across this question. One of the things we can say about the forming of the Biblical texts we have today is that they originate in an oral tradition, and, at first, particularly in the case of the narrative books, were written in order to aid the oral proclamation of the story. But even in the case of other genres, like the letters, whatever was written was written in order to be heard, not read silently. So the way the writing is shaped is with and ear inclined toward the way the words themselves will sound. What we have lost through the writing down of the Sacred Story is more about the change that comes about in the way we read - once we began to read silently, we have lost the sound of the story. Losing the sound of the story, we lose part of the essence of the story itself and cannot do it justice.
As I write this reflection, I ponder another element that I don't think emerged in the conversations in either session yesterday - once we began to read silently, we also began to read singularly, and we lost the experience of hearing these stories in community. Oh, sure, we have always heard portions of the Bible read aloud in gathered worship, and expounded upon in preaching - particularly in the Protestant tradition. But we have lost the art of oratory, of storytelling, with the emergence of other modes of communication, starting with the printed text, moving in recent times to, film and TV. And yet we still have the 'Bible reading' in our gathered worship. But somehow the developments in storytelling have been held at a distance by the church, or shunned entirely, so that our use of contemporary modes of communication, which would be completely appropriate in order to speak into our lived experience, have mostly been used haphazardly. And the skills of oratory, for which these texts are crafted, have been left behind entirely and we too often read words off the page rather than communicate meaning with which we have lived and connected emotionally.
Reflecting on the importance of this emotional connection, using breath, body, and time to sit with the story and get to know it and embody it, appear to have been some of the valuable elements of our workshop yesterday afternoon, from the responses of participants.
If you would like to encourage and equip your 'Bible readers' to proclaim the Sacred Story in your gathered communities, send me an email, I am thrilled to take any opportunity to lead these reflections.
And I have spent yesterday and today attending seminars on Matthew's story of Jesus with Alan Cadwallader. One of the questions that was posed, broader than simply in relation to Matthew's Gospel, was 'what have we lost in the recording of our story in writing?' I led a workshop on storytelling and Matthew yesterday afternoon, in which we came across this question. One of the things we can say about the forming of the Biblical texts we have today is that they originate in an oral tradition, and, at first, particularly in the case of the narrative books, were written in order to aid the oral proclamation of the story. But even in the case of other genres, like the letters, whatever was written was written in order to be heard, not read silently. So the way the writing is shaped is with and ear inclined toward the way the words themselves will sound. What we have lost through the writing down of the Sacred Story is more about the change that comes about in the way we read - once we began to read silently, we have lost the sound of the story. Losing the sound of the story, we lose part of the essence of the story itself and cannot do it justice.
As I write this reflection, I ponder another element that I don't think emerged in the conversations in either session yesterday - once we began to read silently, we also began to read singularly, and we lost the experience of hearing these stories in community. Oh, sure, we have always heard portions of the Bible read aloud in gathered worship, and expounded upon in preaching - particularly in the Protestant tradition. But we have lost the art of oratory, of storytelling, with the emergence of other modes of communication, starting with the printed text, moving in recent times to, film and TV. And yet we still have the 'Bible reading' in our gathered worship. But somehow the developments in storytelling have been held at a distance by the church, or shunned entirely, so that our use of contemporary modes of communication, which would be completely appropriate in order to speak into our lived experience, have mostly been used haphazardly. And the skills of oratory, for which these texts are crafted, have been left behind entirely and we too often read words off the page rather than communicate meaning with which we have lived and connected emotionally.
Reflecting on the importance of this emotional connection, using breath, body, and time to sit with the story and get to know it and embody it, appear to have been some of the valuable elements of our workshop yesterday afternoon, from the responses of participants.
If you would like to encourage and equip your 'Bible readers' to proclaim the Sacred Story in your gathered communities, send me an email, I am thrilled to take any opportunity to lead these reflections.
Monday, September 13, 2010
An epic Tale - The Gospel according to Matthew
Hear the story of Jesus told in many voices, from beginning to end. This way of telling is a feature of the national gathering of the Network of Biblical Storytellers.
Come to the Chapel at Nunyara Conference Centre, 4.30 pm, Saturday 25 September to experience the Gospel according to Matthew like never before.
Gold coin donation.
contact me for more info: sarahagnew@adam.com.au
Sunday, September 12, 2010
parables of the lost and found
i was invited to preach this morning at Belair Uniting. i didn't really preach, but led the congregation in wondering in response to the parables in Luke 15, of things lost and found.
in response to the parable of the lost sheep, we wondered how the ninety nine felt, if we are like the ninety nine, if the pharisees got the point, whether the ninety nine weren't also wandering, together ...
in response to the parable of the lost coin, we wondered if the coin knew it was lost and how the pharisees would have heard this parable, using money as part of the metaphor ...
in response to the parable of the lost son, we wondered if people might be in crowds yearning to be found, how the servants felt being told to do the work of welcoming rather than the father, whether we are like the younger son or the older son or like the father welcoming home the lost, and we wondered about the different disguises God takes on - shepherd, woman, father ...
i led a brief reflection which picked up on some of this wondering - particularly about how we hear these parables, from the perspective of the lost, or the found, or the pharisees / ninety nine / insiders / older son, and the challenge that Jesus poses to us when we take this latter position: the pharisees pose a challenge at the beginning of chapter 15 to Jesus - that he shouldn't be eating with tax collectors and sinners, or those on the margins of society. Jesus, through his remarkable use of story / parable, turns the challenge on its head and asks - what are we doing, not eating with those on the margins of society? It is for these that God relentlessly searches; it is with these that God and heaven rejoice.
after worship, a couple of people shared further reflections - one wondering if the shepherd isn't obsessive compulsive, risking the 99 to search for one because he cannot cope with the disorder; another sharing that he's imagined an ending to the story of the son returning, five years on; and another wondering if Jesus on the cross felt like the younger son returning, I have failed, I am not worthy to be called your son - and in the resurrection the celebration of returning home - and this person was going home to ponder futher.
this is the beauty of story, isn't it? that it stirs our imaginations, leading us to new discoveries of meaning in the story of God's love for creation, opening up possibilities for meaning making in our own stories.
what a joy and a privilege it is for me to share with people in these discoveries.
in response to the parable of the lost sheep, we wondered how the ninety nine felt, if we are like the ninety nine, if the pharisees got the point, whether the ninety nine weren't also wandering, together ...
in response to the parable of the lost coin, we wondered if the coin knew it was lost and how the pharisees would have heard this parable, using money as part of the metaphor ...
in response to the parable of the lost son, we wondered if people might be in crowds yearning to be found, how the servants felt being told to do the work of welcoming rather than the father, whether we are like the younger son or the older son or like the father welcoming home the lost, and we wondered about the different disguises God takes on - shepherd, woman, father ...
i led a brief reflection which picked up on some of this wondering - particularly about how we hear these parables, from the perspective of the lost, or the found, or the pharisees / ninety nine / insiders / older son, and the challenge that Jesus poses to us when we take this latter position: the pharisees pose a challenge at the beginning of chapter 15 to Jesus - that he shouldn't be eating with tax collectors and sinners, or those on the margins of society. Jesus, through his remarkable use of story / parable, turns the challenge on its head and asks - what are we doing, not eating with those on the margins of society? It is for these that God relentlessly searches; it is with these that God and heaven rejoice.
after worship, a couple of people shared further reflections - one wondering if the shepherd isn't obsessive compulsive, risking the 99 to search for one because he cannot cope with the disorder; another sharing that he's imagined an ending to the story of the son returning, five years on; and another wondering if Jesus on the cross felt like the younger son returning, I have failed, I am not worthy to be called your son - and in the resurrection the celebration of returning home - and this person was going home to ponder futher.
this is the beauty of story, isn't it? that it stirs our imaginations, leading us to new discoveries of meaning in the story of God's love for creation, opening up possibilities for meaning making in our own stories.
what a joy and a privilege it is for me to share with people in these discoveries.
Monday, September 6, 2010
baptised into the body
What difference does it make to be baptised in the Spirit into the Body of Christ? This question occurred to me as I worshipped with the Blackwood Uniting community (with no heaters, lights, sound or data projection because of storms rendering many areas powerless) yesterday morning.
Paul's letter to Philemon gives one example of the implications of the baptism of your whole household.
When your slave wrongs you, in the Roman Empire, you can inflict punishment, even sometimes quite violent punishment, even sometimes death.
When your slave leaves your household - specifically, runs away - for that you can have him put to death. In the Roman Empire your slave is your property, and you are free to do with your slave, your property, what you will.
But Paul and the apostles form, nurture, baptise, teach and disciple new communities of followers of Jesus the Christ. And the teaching is Jesus' teaching, about a new thing God is doing in the world, about the enw realm God is opening up for all. The discipling, the nurturing in faith and walking the Way is living in this new realm as it unfolds here on earth. And in this teaching and discipling - in the baptism into Christ's Spirit - there is a radically different way we are in relationship with each other. Another letter of Paul's states that there is no longer slave nor free ...
These boundaries, divisions, may continue to exist in the earthly realm of the Roman Empire, but in the realm of God made known in Jesus Christ, they do not.
So the master whose slave has run away, being baptised into Christian community, must learn to see this slave as a brother in Christ. This master must act contrary to the ways of the world and instead of punishment, offer grace.
It may not be necessarily feasible for all slaves to have been liberated.
But certainly the Way of Christ, baptism into the body of Christ, demands that masters see their slaves not as property, but in the fulness of their humanity.
Those in positions of power over others today are also challenged then, when following the Way of Christ, to use the power they have in radically different ways to the ways of the world that so often dehumanise.
The challenge for us all is this: are we seeing others for what they do for us, or are we seeing each other as brothers and sisters in Christ, seeing others in the fullness of their, of our shared, humanity?
Paul's letter to Philemon gives one example of the implications of the baptism of your whole household.
When your slave wrongs you, in the Roman Empire, you can inflict punishment, even sometimes quite violent punishment, even sometimes death.
When your slave leaves your household - specifically, runs away - for that you can have him put to death. In the Roman Empire your slave is your property, and you are free to do with your slave, your property, what you will.
But Paul and the apostles form, nurture, baptise, teach and disciple new communities of followers of Jesus the Christ. And the teaching is Jesus' teaching, about a new thing God is doing in the world, about the enw realm God is opening up for all. The discipling, the nurturing in faith and walking the Way is living in this new realm as it unfolds here on earth. And in this teaching and discipling - in the baptism into Christ's Spirit - there is a radically different way we are in relationship with each other. Another letter of Paul's states that there is no longer slave nor free ...
These boundaries, divisions, may continue to exist in the earthly realm of the Roman Empire, but in the realm of God made known in Jesus Christ, they do not.
So the master whose slave has run away, being baptised into Christian community, must learn to see this slave as a brother in Christ. This master must act contrary to the ways of the world and instead of punishment, offer grace.
It may not be necessarily feasible for all slaves to have been liberated.
But certainly the Way of Christ, baptism into the body of Christ, demands that masters see their slaves not as property, but in the fulness of their humanity.
Those in positions of power over others today are also challenged then, when following the Way of Christ, to use the power they have in radically different ways to the ways of the world that so often dehumanise.
The challenge for us all is this: are we seeing others for what they do for us, or are we seeing each other as brothers and sisters in Christ, seeing others in the fullness of their, of our shared, humanity?
Friday, September 3, 2010
storytelling workshop for telling Matthew's story of Jesus
'Bringing Matthew's story of Jesus to life' How has the author of the gospel of Matthew crafted the story of Jesus, and how can we enter into the story to find meaning so that we might bring this story to life with our reading / telling, as an invitation into the renewing love of God? Identifying the narrative threads that shape meaning; discovering the narrative clues to help communicate meaning.
This is the introductory paragraph for a workshop I am offering twice in a couple of weeks.
As I prepare it, I am wondering what people might expect from such an introduction.
Your thoughts, responses, would be appreciated as I shape a useful offering for people wanting to communicate the gospel according to Matthew with meaning for their communities in 2010 / 11.
This is the introductory paragraph for a workshop I am offering twice in a couple of weeks.
As I prepare it, I am wondering what people might expect from such an introduction.
Your thoughts, responses, would be appreciated as I shape a useful offering for people wanting to communicate the gospel according to Matthew with meaning for their communities in 2010 / 11.
can God be scared?
one more thought while i'm up late watching the netball instead of sleeping ...
i've been pondering this question - can God be / feel scared?
my first response was, can you fear if you are outside of time and know what will happen?
as i sat with the question and this response, another thought emerged. i watch favourite movies over and over again - star wars for example - and when the tense moments arise in the story - Luke facing his father in the cave - i know what happens next - luke cuts vader's head off and it turns out to have been a dream-like event - but i still get caught up in the moment, and fear for luke and what will happen next.
so perhaps my answer is yes, i think God can feel scared and not merely empathise with us in our fear, but fully enter into our fear, feeling it with us, as God might fully feel compassion or other emotions with more 'positive' connotations for us and our understanding of God.
i've been pondering this question - can God be / feel scared?
my first response was, can you fear if you are outside of time and know what will happen?
as i sat with the question and this response, another thought emerged. i watch favourite movies over and over again - star wars for example - and when the tense moments arise in the story - Luke facing his father in the cave - i know what happens next - luke cuts vader's head off and it turns out to have been a dream-like event - but i still get caught up in the moment, and fear for luke and what will happen next.
so perhaps my answer is yes, i think God can feel scared and not merely empathise with us in our fear, but fully enter into our fear, feeling it with us, as God might fully feel compassion or other emotions with more 'positive' connotations for us and our understanding of God.
more reflections on pottery
i commented on facebook last night that i was interested to hear what the experience of worship was like for those at college yesterday when i invited people into the reflection on God as potter and us as clay with the moulding clay throughout. some of the people who were there said things like the moulding clay helped them to focus, they appreciated the creativity of people and the different shapes that emerged from the playing, that the dye from the clay stayed on their hands late into the day, which was like the experience and the worship continuing with them.
i must say, this is one of the reasons i get a bit frustrated with those who dismiss and denigrate social media like facebook and twitter - it's such a wonderful opportunity to continue conversations, to receive feedback, to engage in wondering together ...
and contemplation on pottery continues for me with an image of a pot with cracks in it and light shining through; a warm, comforting and hope-filled image that resonated deep with the contemplations of the past week. i love when the story keeps unfolding.
i must say, this is one of the reasons i get a bit frustrated with those who dismiss and denigrate social media like facebook and twitter - it's such a wonderful opportunity to continue conversations, to receive feedback, to engage in wondering together ...
and contemplation on pottery continues for me with an image of a pot with cracks in it and light shining through; a warm, comforting and hope-filled image that resonated deep with the contemplations of the past week. i love when the story keeps unfolding.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
the cat empire - magic moment of grace
Part of me doesn't even want to attempt to put words to last night's experience at The Cat Empire 's Adelaide concert. But there's another part that wants a record of the feeling of the moment. So here goes.
When I heard from my best friend Mel that The Cat Empire were coming back to Adelaide, I immediately wanted to buy Mel's ticket for her, as an early birthday present. We've started buying each other tickets to events (most often Shakespeare plays, our shared love) as gifts for years now, because we'd rather share experiences in celebration of birthdays than continue to accumulate 'stuff' for each other. And since Mel was one of the ones who introduced me to The Cat Empire, and knowing just how much joy she gets from their music, this seemed a fitting gift opportunity.
And what an experience this was. I wasn't sure exactly how I wanted to record the moment, but something I heard from another friend today has given me a clue.
This friend was talking about the moments of grace, of the most profound joy, that seem to some when we, to an extent, 'forget' ourselves, or perhaps loose ourselves in the moment. That was the concert last night.
I'd go from the instinctive urge to dance to the music with its rhythms and melodies that carried us away, to utter stillness, captivated, transfixed, by the magical musicality of the band members performing extraordinary feats on brass, keys, dj desk, and oh my goodness, the drums and Harry's voice – I held my breath as they held the theatre full of people in moment after moment of sheer beauty, sheer joy.
And I think that's all the words I want to put to it - because, in the end, I have no words in my language, for they render me speechless.
But the magic of music is that it communicates something profound, so as to move us deeply – as The Cat Empire themselves say, 'music is the language of us all'.
When I heard from my best friend Mel that The Cat Empire were coming back to Adelaide, I immediately wanted to buy Mel's ticket for her, as an early birthday present. We've started buying each other tickets to events (most often Shakespeare plays, our shared love) as gifts for years now, because we'd rather share experiences in celebration of birthdays than continue to accumulate 'stuff' for each other. And since Mel was one of the ones who introduced me to The Cat Empire, and knowing just how much joy she gets from their music, this seemed a fitting gift opportunity.
And what an experience this was. I wasn't sure exactly how I wanted to record the moment, but something I heard from another friend today has given me a clue.
This friend was talking about the moments of grace, of the most profound joy, that seem to some when we, to an extent, 'forget' ourselves, or perhaps loose ourselves in the moment. That was the concert last night.
I'd go from the instinctive urge to dance to the music with its rhythms and melodies that carried us away, to utter stillness, captivated, transfixed, by the magical musicality of the band members performing extraordinary feats on brass, keys, dj desk, and oh my goodness, the drums and Harry's voice – I held my breath as they held the theatre full of people in moment after moment of sheer beauty, sheer joy.
And I think that's all the words I want to put to it - because, in the end, I have no words in my language, for they render me speechless.
But the magic of music is that it communicates something profound, so as to move us deeply – as The Cat Empire themselves say, 'music is the language of us all'.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
God as potter - exit service at college
I lead chapel today at college - every candidate takes chapel once in their final semester before moving out of the core phase of training, or that's been the tradition to date. Who knows what will happen with so many students being more in and out of college during the core phase from now on.
I chose to create a meditative / contemplative space (and as I write this I recall Andrew's (principal) feedback afterwards that my use of such a term for the physical and temporal space in which we gather, this particular time, this particular place, won't mean anything for some people ... how easy it is to use language without listening to it with the ears of others).
We began with Dawn Mantra (Edwards) and words from Genesis in English and Hebrew - the opening few words, in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and then from 1:27 God created humankind in God's image, each read in two voices, as a call to worship.
Our confession and affirmation were combined in a reflective reading of Psalm 139, which was also told again in music (Sons of Korah). This was the invitation:
As we reflect on this psalm, let it be a confession before God of our humanity,
an acknowledgement of all that feels unworthy
and let it be also an affirmation of our humanity,
an acknowledgement of the gift of life,
of healing restored to us by the One who made us.
Take the clay and begin to mould it.
Notice how tough it is at first,
and how it begins to soften to your touch.
Go, then, responding to the invitation from God to be a partner in creating vessels to hold the gospel treasure, fragile vessels, vessels of beauty, with
the Creator to gently mould you,
Wisdom to keep you centred in the way of Christ
and the Spirit to breathe life through you
People seemed to respond well to the space, to express thanks for the reflections, the music chosen, etc. It was lovely to hear Andrew's affirmation after, and to have spent the time with Andrew, who is so busy and sought after by the whole church. I feel very grateful to have had the time with him this week to reflect on shaping worship, eucharist especially, and to have shared leading the chapel worship for our college community. His suggestions for things to work on resonated with things I am aware of, and were offered in a spirit of collaboration with me on my craft as a presider in the gathered worship of Christian community; nutting out together how I can overcome nerves and uncertainty about where to stand, building up a catalogue of gestures and postures so that when I enter a space I can say, oh we're worshipping in the round, this is how I stand / lead in that situation, etc. Very helpful.
This is my exit service, which means that I am in my last months at the college as a candidate. I'm not sure how I feel, given I didn't approach this as a trip down memory lane opportunity but as the work of worship for this community this week, so it wasn't like a goodbye service which has been the case for others in the past. I do know that I am deeply grateful for my time here, and for those special teachers, like Andrew, who have guided me through what has at times been quite a dark forest with no discernible path, affirmed me, taught and mentored me, and been my friend.
To those special teachers, I say thank you.
I chose to create a meditative / contemplative space (and as I write this I recall Andrew's (principal) feedback afterwards that my use of such a term for the physical and temporal space in which we gather, this particular time, this particular place, won't mean anything for some people ... how easy it is to use language without listening to it with the ears of others).
We began with Dawn Mantra (Edwards) and words from Genesis in English and Hebrew - the opening few words, in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and then from 1:27 God created humankind in God's image, each read in two voices, as a call to worship.
Our confession and affirmation were combined in a reflective reading of Psalm 139, which was also told again in music (Sons of Korah). This was the invitation:
As we reflect on this psalm, let it be a confession before God of our humanity,
an acknowledgement of all that feels unworthy
and let it be also an affirmation of our humanity,
an acknowledgement of the gift of life,
of healing restored to us by the One who made us.
Take the clay and begin to mould it.
Notice how tough it is at first,
and how it begins to soften to your touch.
Then followed a meditation on Jeremiah 18:1-11, in which God calls Jeremiah down to the potter's house. I was helped in shaping this meditation by Andrew's recollections of a pottery he and his wife visited recently.
I might post that reflection separately.
As we approached the table for eucharist, I invited people to bring their clay, in whatever shape it had become, and lay it on the table. Also, to write prayers for others in clay stretched out flat on a couple of glass squares. Not sure that worked as well as it might. the approach to the table was a little messy.
We stood for the eucharist, sang together as a way of bringing us back into community after our silent reflections, and sang a blessing.
These were the words of commissioning:
Go, then, responding to the invitation from God to be a partner in creating vessels to hold the gospel treasure, fragile vessels, vessels of beauty, with
the Creator to gently mould you,
Wisdom to keep you centred in the way of Christ
and the Spirit to breathe life through you
Amen
People seemed to respond well to the space, to express thanks for the reflections, the music chosen, etc. It was lovely to hear Andrew's affirmation after, and to have spent the time with Andrew, who is so busy and sought after by the whole church. I feel very grateful to have had the time with him this week to reflect on shaping worship, eucharist especially, and to have shared leading the chapel worship for our college community. His suggestions for things to work on resonated with things I am aware of, and were offered in a spirit of collaboration with me on my craft as a presider in the gathered worship of Christian community; nutting out together how I can overcome nerves and uncertainty about where to stand, building up a catalogue of gestures and postures so that when I enter a space I can say, oh we're worshipping in the round, this is how I stand / lead in that situation, etc. Very helpful.
This is my exit service, which means that I am in my last months at the college as a candidate. I'm not sure how I feel, given I didn't approach this as a trip down memory lane opportunity but as the work of worship for this community this week, so it wasn't like a goodbye service which has been the case for others in the past. I do know that I am deeply grateful for my time here, and for those special teachers, like Andrew, who have guided me through what has at times been quite a dark forest with no discernible path, affirmed me, taught and mentored me, and been my friend.
To those special teachers, I say thank you.
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