Tag Archives: beauty

On Finding Commonality and Church…

01 Wednesday Oct 2025

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

Photo credit: https://unsplash.com/s/photos/concert-audience

Last weekend we took one of our daughters to her first concert.  It was not a band or even a genre of music I particularly like.  But she had been obsessing over every concert venue.  When the band came within an hour of our town, coupled with a big birthday this year, we couldn’t refuse.  So, off we went, playing chaperone to one of those fun life milestones.

While I cannot say that I came to fall in love with the band, what did not escape me was the beautiful experience of that night.  Feeling like a total outsider, I watched as everyone around me joined in commonality.  I watched as people belted out memorized lyrics, and they mimicked famous moves and gestures of the band, and as they shared excitement as each new song began.  I watched people who did not know each other exchange comradery and joy with total strangers.  I watched parents smile at the adulation of a younger generation.  I watched many disparate parts come together as one in that singular moment.

Now I would never claim that Church, especially a church in my denomination, has the same electric, communal energy as that night of raw, unfiltered passion caused by music, but I like to dream that some things like that night happen every Sunday.  We gather every Sunday as a disparate group too:  young parents, frazzled by life; retirees, finding their purpose in later life; singletons longing for a place of belonging; couples or families praying they are not alone in their experiences.  Those who are joyous, those who are grieving, those who are anxious, and those who are feeling good gather every week – not for a favorite band per se, but certainly for a favorite activity.  We gather to remember something bigger than ourselves as individuals, to ground ourselves in something better than what sometimes feels like the daily grind, to find oneness in the one bread and one cup.

Though I would never claim my church feels like going to a band’s concert, I do think Church offers a weekly dose of beauty, of commonality, of belonging, and of joyful purpose.  For those who are not regular church-goers, or even for those who have been hurt by the Church, I understand why you would keep your distance.  But when the Church is at her most Christ-like, the Church offers a weekly gift that might be a source of healing from all those hurts, isolations, and divisions of life.  If you ever want to give it a try, know that this community welcomes you here.

On Baptisms, Community, and Belonging…

04 Wednesday Sep 2024

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

Photo credit: https://www.sacredheartcalgary.ca/sacraments/baptism-2/baptism/

One of the challenges of a church with multiple service times is the inevitable formation of multiple smaller communities within a larger community.  Between different attendees and different worship styles, each service begins to take on its own personality.  I have had families with young children show up at our early service, and had to be sure to let them know that the later service might be much more familiar and comfortable than the meditative feel of the early service.  Or I have had folks who grew up in an Anglo-Catholic tradition show up at our later service, and had to be sure to let them know they might find the more formal liturgy of the early service more heart-warming.  The trick is figuring out how to create a sense of “home” in each worship service while also providing opportunities for cross-pollination across services.

I think that is why I am so excited for a baptism at my church this weekend at the early service.  We almost never have children at that service (I know very few parents of littles who can get their families at church by 8:00 am), and we do not have music (for those littles to join in the joyful noise making), and the pews in the historic chapel are way less accommodating than the movable chairs in our newer chapel.  But the mother of the baptized grew up in that space and wants her child to experience the centuries of prayer found there.  And although there may not be other children there, she will tell her son of the days when she used to sit in the window wells or babies crawled under the pews.  And when she sees parishioners the age of her son’s grandparents in worship, she will be able to tell her son about the fellowship of saints, and maybe even let parishioners take a turn rocking her son if he becomes fussy.

That is the true beauty of the kind of community church creates.  No matter which service you choose, there is a child whose grandparent may live far away, a grandparent who hasn’t seen his children in months or a year, and a parent who just needs a place who gets how hard parenting is.  And those three groups come together as a fluid organism, with all their everyday human stuff, laying their troubles before God, praising God for their blessings – even when it is sometimes hard to see them, and breaking bread together, recognizing the beauty of a diverse room of people reflecting the image of God. 

That is what this Sunday’s baptism is all about:  bringing another human being into to the strange, mysterious, beauty of Church; helping him know that he is a child of God and is marked as Christ’s own forever; teaching him that he will now belong to a community that will both love him unconditionally and challenge him to live into his vocation and calling – whatever it may be.  We baptize that little one to tell him all that.  But we also baptize that little one to remind ourselves of that reality:  to remember how we too are beloved children of God with a commission to love and serve the Lord in the world.  No matter what service you choose, we all need that message.   

Sermon – Mark 13.24-37, A1, YB, December 3, 2023

06 Wednesday Dec 2023

Posted by in Sermons

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I live a very loud life these days.  Whether it’s the morning hustle to get everyone to school, or the evening jockeying for showers, rushed dinners, or one last FaceTime with friends, my house can be a constant source of shh-ing, pleading for less noise, or reminders to close doors to contain volume.  That is not to say that all the noise in our home is unpleasant – there is also the noise of laughter, dance parties, and storytelling.  But if you are looking to set up a yoga mat or trying to meditate, my house is not the place I would necessarily recommend. 

I sometimes blame all the noise in my life on my beloved children.  But the truth is I am as much a cause of the noise as they are.  I am admittedly loud myself – whether barking instructions around the house, singing aloud, or simply talking my husband’s ear off.  But I am not just loud in the house – I am also loud inside my head.  My mind is in constant conversation:  my to-do list, searching for ideas for a blog post, worrying about a sick friend or parishioner, trying to make plans for the weekend, processing a troublesome conversation, or wallowing in guilt for missed exercise or time in prayer.  As loud as my outside world is, my inside world is probably much worse.  Add Christmastime to the mix, and the loudness of my life reaches levels that can be incapacitating.

That is why I love Advent so much.  In the lead-up to Christmas, the outside world bombards us with noise:   Christmas songs on the radio, shopping to complete, parties to attend, gifts to wrap, houses to decorate, gatherings to host, cards to send, and loud relatives or friends to entertain.  In contrast, the Church at this time asks us to do the exact opposite:  slow down, take a breath, light some candles, breathe in the fresh greenery, sing quiet, meditative songs, and worship in the soothing blue of anticipation.  When the outside world is telling us, “Do more, buy more, run more, fuss more, stress more,” the Church says, “Do less, worry less, run less, talk less, be busy less.”  The contrast between the two worlds is like night and day, and at a time of high stress, Advent becomes the Church’s greatest gift to us. 

Into this contrast, we hear words from Mark’s gospel today.  The text says, “Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.  It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch.  Therefore, keep awake– for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.  And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”  Many of us hear this text today with a sense of anxiety – of needing to keep anxious watch for the Lord.  We might imagine the many apocalyptic movies, predictions, and preachers we have witnessed over the years and wonder whether Jesus really does want us to be more alarmed.  Certainly the outside world would have us also be alert and anxious for the coming Christmas. 

But I think the Church is saying something else today.  Instead of an anxious alarm, our gospel lesson sounds like a gentle reminder to me.  Keep awake, for you do not want to miss the quiet beauty of Advent.  Keep awake, for you do not want to miss the gift of time set apart in these four weeks.  Keep awake, for you do not want to miss the lead in to the manger, the dramatic retelling of why the manger is so important, and the grounding for this entire season.[i]  Jesus’ words for us to “keep awake,” are not meant to be one more anxiety to pile on top of a mound of concerns.  Jesus’ words for us to “keep awake,” are meant to help us focus on what is really important. 

So, make a commitment to come to church each Sunday in Advent and spend those Sundays in quiet worship with your church community.  Grab an Advent calendar or devotional to help you more intentionally mark the days leading up to the manger.  Or set up that Advent wreath at home, so that you might bring the quiet candlelight of prayer and meditation to your home.  Whatever the discipline, choose something this Advent that will help you maintain the quiet peace you find here at Church and carry that quiet peace throughout your weeks leading up to Christmas.  My guess is that noise of life will slowly fade into a quiet hum in the background – which is right where it should be.  Amen. 

[i] Lillian Daniel, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. B, Vol. 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 22.

Sabbatical Journey…On Spacious Skies

07 Friday Jul 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Oh beautiful, for spacious skies

For amber waves of grain

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain

Grand Teton National Park (reuse with permission only)

Our last couple of days on our cross-country journey are mostly comprised of driving – seeing more states and the scenery of this country.  On days like today, when I literally see amber waves of grain, and I have already seen purple mountain majesties, I am once again reminded of part of why we did this trip:  to see the beauty of God’s creation in its many forms.  Today we drove on a road lined with trees – something we have not done in weeks.  Some days the vistas were all in hues of reds, oranges, and browns.  Other days were vivid greens.  On other days we could see nothing but blue skies.

In the Book of Common Prayer there is a collect for joy in God’s creation.  It says, “O heavenly Father, who hast filled the world with beauty:  Open our eyes to behold thy gracious hand in all thy works; that, rejoicing in thy whole creation, we may learn to serve thee with gladness; for the sake of him through whom all things were made, thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.”[i]  This trip has been one that has certainly opened my eyes to see God at work in God’s creation.  It has been a feast for the eyes, and no matter how many pictures I snap, I will never capture the true beauty of this gift God has given us.

Today, I invite you to take a look at God’s creation around you.  Certainly, traveling thousands of miles around the country will inspire you, but so can pausing at a flower bed, gazing at an old, wizened tree, or taking in some clouds or stars.  Watching a world of beauty whirl around you – something entirely not man-made – may give you the gift of perspective, humility, and joy.  God has great plans for you, and gifts you beauty everyday!

[i] Book of Common Prayer, 814.

Sabbatical Journey…on Choosing Unity

05 Wednesday Jul 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

License Plate Game (reuse with permission)

As we celebrate the 4th of July today, I cannot think of a more appropriate activity than to be on a cross-country trip.  Our trip so far has given me a renewed appreciation for the vastness of our country, the unique topographical beauty in each state, and the tremendous diversity of people.  Though we call ourselves the United States of America, sometimes I think we forget what an improbable arrangement we have – that these fifty states, in all their glorious diversity, are united as one.

Traveling through the country these last eighteen days, I have seen both signs of our political divisions as well as indicators that there is more in common between us than different.  I have also seen that experiencing each other in our own settings, learning about each other’s heritage, remembering that the creation of this country was done on the backs of so many oppressed peoples, helps me remember that being united states takes work.

Often when I am doing premarital counseling, I will tell couples that marriage is a choice – not made one day in beautiful attire with all your family and friends – but a choice made every day, over and over again.  Only when we make that daily commitment do marriages thrive and can be filled with love.  What I appreciate about the Fourth of July is that it is our annual reminder that we have to choose to be united over and over again, so that we might thrive and be filled with love.  I realize that may sound overly romantic, and in our current political times even impossible, but that we live in such a place that allows for differences and disagreements is a true gift that can help in the midst of our divisions.

As fireworks go off tonight, my prayer is that we renew our commitment to care for one another and respect the dignity of every human being in this country.  We know that we are all made in the image of God – even those folks with whom we disagree.  I offer the following prayer from the Book of Common Prayer for you tonight.  May we take up the mantle of being united once again.

Lord God Almighty, you have made all the peoples of the earth for your glory, to serve you in freedom and in peace:  Give to the people of our country a zeal for justice and the strength of forbearance, that we may use our liberty in accordance with your gracious will; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.  (Book of Common Prayer, 258)

Sabbatical Journey…on Butterflies and Beauty

19 Monday Jun 2023

Posted by in reflection

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

Photo credit: https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/central-high-school-integration

Our second day of travels landed us in Little Rock, Arkansas.  We had mostly planned to get here and head straight to the hotel, but traffic was forgiving, and gave us a little extra time.  So, we hopped over to the Little Rock Central High School National Park Site.  As a refresher, in 1957, Central High became the epicenter of confrontation and the catalyst for change in enforcing the decision of Brown v. Board to integrate schools.  Three years after the Supreme Court decision, the “Little Rock Nine,” were denied entrance to the school, and President Dwight D. Eisenhour had to federalize the Arkansas National Guard to safely enable the Little Rock Nine to successfully attend school. 

As I was looking at the photos at the National Park, I noticed a butterfly flitted past me and landed right next to a picture of those National Guardsmen protecting those students.  I was reminded of how even in the darkest times, one can find beauty.  I do not know the stories of those men who protected those students.  Maybe they did it because they were obligated to help by order of the President.  Maybe they did it because they felt a desire to right an injustice.  Maybe they had feelings that changed before, during, and after the event.  What I do know is those from Little Rock during that time were transformed in that event.  And like that butterfly, their transformation flitted on throughout the country as we made our way toward justice – as we continue to make our way toward justice.

Commemorative Garden. Note butterfly in photo. (Photo credit: Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly)

In the Commemorative Garden at the site, there is an inscription about the school.  It reads that Central High School, “…has survived, indeed not just survived but succeeded beyond anyone’s belief, becoming once again Arkansas’ premier high school.”  The inscription goes on to say, “It has achieved this not by returning to its old form merely showing its pretty face, but by modeling the diversity and pluralism that caused the original storm of protest.”

Post-pandemic, and indeed, in the modern era of Church, I think many are hoping to simply return to our old form, merely showing the Church’s pretty face.  But the massive disruption of the pandemic has convinced me that this is our opportunity not to become simply familiar again, but to become something excellent because of our evolution into the goodness God created us to be.  I wonder what new goodness God has invited you into in this post-pandemic season?  Where are butterflies beckoning your attention to see beauty not in what once was, but what is now, and in what can be?  I can’t wait to hear how you are seeing butterflies in your journey!

On Race, Earthquakes, and Action…

17 Wednesday Jun 2020

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A few years ago, the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts had an exhibit of the works of Kehinde Wiley.  I had not seen his work before, and found his pieces in the exhibit shocking to the eye.  Wiley managed to take traditional poses and settings from art history and infuse them with images of modern African-Americans.  The pieces were jarring to the senses.  As I made my way through the exhibit, it began to dawn on me why my senses were so jarred. By consistently seeing classical art featuring people with light-colored skin, I had been enculturated to expect certain images in art.  The prominence of one kind of subject also created unspoken messages about value, beauty, and power.  Wiley’s vibrant pieces were like an earthquake.  And as someone who considers herself fairly self-aware, I found myself humbled by his work, and sorrowful for my ignorance.

I think that is why I was so surprised by an experience last week.  Last Tuesday night, our family went up to Richmond to take a look at the Robert E. Lee statue and the surrounding damage to businesses and monuments.  For those of you who have not been following the story, as part of the protests about George Floyd’s death and the Black Lives Matter cause, the prominent Confederate monuments in Richmond have come under fire.  The statue of Robert E. Lee’s large stone plinth has been covered in graffiti, protesting George’s death, the treatment of African-Americans by the police, and systemic racism.  As I took in the visceral, pain-filled cries of graffiti, as I looked at pictures of black victims of police violence surrounding the statue, whose names I have prayed for over the years, as I watched families of color take pictures in front of this once pristine, but ever-controversial, statue with a new sense of pride and defiance, what I began to understand is those who are harassed and feel helpless have been begging for our compassion for a long time – cries that could no longer be ignored when staring at that powerfully altered statue.

But mostly, I mourned again for my complacency and blindness.  As a descendant of Confederate veterans, student of African-American history and politics, and pastor of a church built long before the Civil War, I know the issue of Confederate statues and monuments is sensitive.  But watching what was happening at the Robert E. Lee statue created the same feeling as Kehinde Wiley’s art work:  an earthquake for all in positions of privilege and power.  Standing there with my family, I felt like I was on unstable ground, my complicity in systemic racism exposed, and the weight of the question pressing on my chest:  what are you going to do about it?

For my brothers and sisters of color, I am sorry.  I am sorry that you have had to do the work to awaken my senses instead of doing that work myself.  For my brothers and sisters of European descent, we have work to do.  Hickory Neck Church has been posting ways for you to engage this issue – not necessarily telling you what to do, but inviting you into the position of making yourself vulnerable to listening, learning, and acting.  This is our work to do.  It is hard and uncomfortable, and this post may even make you defensive.  Please know that I am here – here to walk with you, here to encourage you, and here to hold us all to Jesus’ message of love.  What you do next will vary widely.  Maybe you can only do one small thing to start.  Our invitation is do something – and keep doing something until we find ourselves doing the work of the kingdom Jesus has desired for a long time.

IMG_8253

Photo credit:  Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly; reuse with permission only.

 

On God’s Love…

06 Wednesday Nov 2019

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Fall is my favorite season of the year.  Mostly I love the transformation of foliage into beautiful shades of yellow, red, and orange.  Although spring’s blossoms are certainly lovely, there is something bold and deeply stirring about fall colors that warms my entire being.  You can imagine my disappointment this year, then, when the forecasters warned us the fall foliage would likely be less vibrant this fall due to the drought we experienced at the end of the summer and into the beginning of fall in our area.  I had already seen evidence of this disappointment as some of my favorite trees turned straight from green to brown – or even a grayish brown, as if their color had been drained.

But last week, driving home from a long meeting, I turned a corner I rarely travel as the sun was lowering, when I gasped.  A tall tree had turned a brilliant shade of yellow, every leaf singing a beautiful song, as the sun made the tree dance in a radiant glow.  The sight was so stunning, I found tears prickling in the corners of my eye, and a tightness I had not realized was in my chest dissolving away.  The tree was a magnificent gift, ready for the receiving of anyone who would have it.

I was thinking how similar God’s love for us is.  We so often lower our expectations with the slightest hint of scarcity, bracing ourselves so we do not experience loneliness, disappointment, or sadness.  We do not even notice the slow development of our guardedness, and before we realize it, we cut ourselves off to others.  But God is not easily deterred.  Out of the blue, we find ourselves sideswiped by God’s love – some unexpected act of kindness by another, an undeserved gift, or an observed moment between others that restores our hope in humanity – and we realize how God’s love is there all along, shining brilliantly.  And when we stubbornly slip into a theology of scarcity or a closed-off sense of abandonment, God shows up with such force that we cannot help but see abundance and love all around us.

I invite you today to find your own moment of God’s love and beauty.  Whether it is in a brilliantly glorious display of fall foliage, a sacred act of kindness between strangers, or a moment of appreciation for the gift of this day, I invite you to look for God today.  But be forewarned:  once you finally see that God-moment today, you are likely to start seeing a lot more of them in the little, shocking, overwhelming, mundane, beautiful moments of life.  I cannot wait to hear how God is warming your heart today!

The Power of Showing Up…

17 Wednesday Apr 2019

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

IMG_7849

Photo credit:  Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly; reuse with permission only

Most of you know that Holy Week is my favorite week of the year.  I love the way the week feels like a virtual pilgrimage, walking us from Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, to his last meal with the disciples, to his trial and crucifixion, to his death and resurrection.  Each daily liturgy gives us the opportunity to experience that journey in unique, meaningful ways.  Knowing my passion for this week, my family is gracious every year with my absences from family life that week.  But this year, my husband had an evening work conflict he could not miss, and so I had some options for that night’s service.  I could skip the service – I was not serving that night, and was not physically needed.  I could hire a baby sitter, using some date-night reserves.  Or I could take the girls with me to the quiet service with long periods of silence, knowing how difficult it would be for them after a long day of school.

After much waffling, I decided to try bringing the kids with me.  I really wanted to be there for my own spiritual journey, and I hoped the kids might get something out of the experience.  I prepped the kids endlessly so that they would respect the periods of silence and the experience of those attending.  All in all, for their ages, the girls did amazingly well.  There were certainly a few too many wiggles and distracting noises, but for the most part, they were well-behaved.  I, on the other hand, was a ball of nervous energy.  I know how much I have reveled in the silence of that service and I really did not want to ruin that experience for anyone else.  I found myself so anxious about it, that I realized I didn’t get to experience the service in the way I traditionally do.

But here’s what did happen.  In the midst of trying to prevents disagreements, and minimize crinkling of papers, I was still able to sing and pray the words of the songs.  In the midst of desperately trying to keep kids at whisper-levels, I was able to catch snippets of scripture that hung in my ears and mind.  In the midst of impatient children, I was able to hear my children singing along and see my kids embrace participation – whether in lighting candles, handing out bulletins, or praying at the altar.

Here’s the thing about Holy Week services:  there are a lot of them, and you might not think you are mentally or spiritually ready for them.  You might be curious about some of the services, but are not sure your kids could handle them.  Or you might be thinking you are too tired this week to get anything out of the services.  No matter what is going on with you this week, I promise that if you can get yourself to Church, God will find you.  It may not be in the way you expect, you may not be able to be present as fully as you like, and you might not be convinced it is worth it.  But I promise you, if you figure out a way to get to Church this week, God will break through the chaos of life and whisper a word of comfort, and give you a glimpse into God’s grace and beauty.  My guess is that if you open yourself up to the liturgies of this week, you might just figure out how to carry those lessons into the rest of the Church year too.  The community is gathered this week and welcomes you, wherever you are on your journey, and especially when you do not feel like you have much to offer.  Holy Week is a gift the Church offers to you.  Your invitation is to just show up.

IMG_7836

Photo credit:  Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly; reuse with permission only

On God and Spring…

20 Wednesday Mar 2019

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

IMG_6943

Photo credit:  Jennifer Andrews-Weckerly; reuse only with permission

This year, spring has taken me a bit by surprise.  I am mostly surprised because we keep having cold bursts, and yet, the budding trees seem undeterred.  But what has also surprised me is how unprepared I have been for the emergence of color.  You see, in these brisk days, I had become accustomed to bare trees and the dormant brown of the season.  As the trees begin to blossom, though, I have been caught off guard.  I forgot how beautiful these trees can be in spring.  I forgot the soft yellows, purples, pinks, and whites of their blooms, and I had forgotten the beauty they possess.  Despite having watched these same trees blossom year after year, I still find myself surprised by their loveliness.

As I have been surprised by the beautiful emergence of spring this year, I began to wonder if I don’t do the same thing with the people around me.  Sometimes, I think we get so used to our loved ones that we forget to really see them.  We get used to the rote normalcy of life, and we get so accustomed to our routines, we sometimes fail to see the beautiful blooms of the people right in front of us.  We neglect to see the ways the people in our lives are changing and growing, and sparking new life, and we fail to see their blossoming beauty.  We fail to behold their beauty with the wonder it deserves.

I wonder who in your life has been blossoming without your notice.  I wonder whose blossoms are coming into glory and yet you have been too busy to notice.  I invite you this week to take a long look at your loved ones.  Look at them with fresh eyes, expecting to be wowed with something fresh and inspiring.  See them with the eyes of a new acquaintance instead of the eyes of someone who only sees the withered winter version.  And then, tell them what you see.  Share with your loved ones the beauty you see in them, the new life you see budding, and the ways in which their color gives joy to the world around them.

I suspect when you start to embrace this new way of seeing your loved ones you will see them as God sees them – as beautiful creations whose beauty reflects God’s glory.  You can share that gift too – the ways in which you see God’s glory reflected in them.  But beware!  Once you begin to see God’s beauty and glory in others, you might also begin to see it in yourself as well.  If you need a little help seeing the color blooming in yourself, let me know.  I’d be happy to help you see yourself as God sees you!