Making Space for Sabbath in one of God's "Thin Places" Piegaro

One of the greatest faults I carry that is a reflection of our culture is my seemingly inability to stop and rest.  In sharing with friends my upcoming vacation plans which also include preparing for my sabbatical next year there was a concern lifted by one that I would not truly rest.  My son said I don’t rest.  As I mentioned I planned to spend time swimming and reading “fun” books we got to talking of swimming.  My friend says she loves to swim, and she will be staying in Tuscany during the time I’m in Umbria and invited me to come up for a poolside day with her.

Then came my confession of swimming, I swim like a cat, flailing about in the water with my primary goal to keep my head up and gulp for air.  I also enjoy playing in the water with others, and do plan on bringing a beach ball….but the only time I truly relax while in water is back floating stroking.  At this point my son points out to his friends that my idea of a relaxing back stroke is to cruise back and forth in the pool as if I was practicing to escape from Alcatraz.  Hmmmm, my son knows me so well, as he says, I never really rest.

Yet, I feel this is so important to our spiritual well being, a practice I myself struggle with.  It was a great recognition and revelation this past year that with many years of working, often 7 days a week, that I have approached exhaustion on a grand scale recently.  Many changes have happened that have deeply effected my energy and it is so wonderful to be a part of a great worshipping congregation that explores ways to deepen their missional lives, and sabbatical time and learning to rest as God rested on the 7th day is calling out to me.

During my time preparing for leading a Spring Retreat in Umbria in 2011, amid the work of exploring, planning, and contemplating what would create “true” retreat I found a place that gave my soul rest.  Through worship, through walks, but mostly through a people so deeply connected as community my heart found a place to breathe-spirit.   It would be my wish that all could find such a place for themselves, a place to live fully in the spirit, a place to feed their souls.  A friend in Umbria said you can find the spirit no matter where you are, and yes, I truly believe that.  God’s grace is EVERYWHERE, but there are special places as the Celts’ named as “thin places” where spirit and earth are so close.  I think those places are different for different people, they are places that feed the parts where our hearts hunger for what seems to be missing.

In the busyness of our days preparing/working, there were special times of day with my new found  friends that took me to rest and refreshed my soul, they were but snippets of time in a busy 2 weeks.  They were reminders of my own need to practice Sabbath, to practice rest so that my soul can be strengthened.  It is a natural pattern for folks there that I don’t find present in our culture.  I look forward to a new and essential learning for my life during sabbatical, and a very short practice time in the coming week.

What are the essential learnings God is calling you to?  How do you take time for sabbath rest?  Where are the “Thin Places” that feed your soul?  What do you do to nourish not only self, but to give thanks and praise to the Creator and giver of life and love?

Where do you go to seek? What do you find? Here Colleen finds the words of a Bob Marley song of Hope on a power box in Italy

Methodist Founder felt Tradition was important, Do we?

In the Methodist movement tradition is considered one of the 4 elements we stand on as a church:  Scripture, Tradition, Reason and Experience.  But our traditional memory often seems short, going back maybe 60 years, until the “good old days” of the 50’s when a post-war church boom was alive and well.  We remember when our Sunday Schools were full as well as our pews on Sunday mornings, we remember rummage sales, holiday pageants and potlucks.  These are fond memories that warm our hearts and take us back to a sweeter time.  But what really makes a time sweet?  Is it the focus on our needs, our wants, our desires?  The church of the 1950’s was doing an amazing job of healing a broken country in the aftermath of World War II, but at some point we felt that that this was our pinnacle, yet the traditions of the church which were set aside in the wake of needing healing, seemed to be forgotten, and what was self-care became self-serving.  We forgot our spiritual and sacred roots, we forgot the practices that nurtured communities of faith for centuries and were the hallmark of the Methodist movement.

One of the reasons that Wesley included tradition in his 4 principles, was his keen insight into inviting the wisdom of those who came before him into the fullness of faith that was essential to this movement that encouraged its people to worship in any church on a Sunday, but experience the fullness of a life of faith within spiritual “methods.”  Daily prayer, scripture and a gathering of small groups for support in a real world encompassing all from pain to joy, were the essentials for Methodism, this methodical group who encouraged one another in faith.  His greatest worry was that this movement would become institutional, forgetting who and whose they are.

But if we think woe to our denominational church, let’s face it, it is merely a reflection of a culture that has formed in this country of great newness.  We are one of the youngest nations, having pushed the natives of this land to the margins, and brought in new people for this new country.  As a good chef I know once said, “we don’t ask for a good restaurant when seeking a recommendation, we ask for a new one.”  We are a people who move from house to house on average every 3 years, who change our wardrobe on average of 6 months to a year as fashion demands, and who fill garage sales, thrift stores and land-fills with our cast-off “old stuff.”  We are taught by politicians, advertisers, and economic “experts” that we are not people, but consumers, who must buy, buy, buy new, New, NEW everyday in order to make things well, it is our responsibility.  Little room here to be informed by tradition.

Yet what does this all do for our sense of meaning and purpose?  It seems as if our culture is denying that there is a wide and awesome possibility of existence here in God’s creation, we lose some things that have been essential to human tradition, and more so, traditions of faith.  Our meaning and purpose get tied to things like economy, work, and “getting away.”  We are so dragged down by daily life that we need to get away.

This was precisely what our early founder was seeking to remedy with the foundation of Methodist practices, the grinding daily life that pushes us to get away, to seek what is missing in our lives.  Daily practices of communication in small groups where the highs and lows of life were not only shared, but all were surrounded by loving support of one another.  Where the greatest part of this circle of people was the awareness that God IS present, through prayer and spirit this was reinforced each day.  The constant reminder that One, mysterious, all-knowing, all-loving is always present.  God above all names is with us in times of trouble and times of celebration.

Wesley borrowed ideas for his faith groups, for his movement from the traditions of old, he did not invent something “new” in the 1700’s – it should be a reminder to us all that what worked so well for early Methodists was not even new then.  The essentials of tradition have as much to teach us now as then.

In the past months I’ve been writing much of my time in Italy, a land where people seem to be drawn to when seeking their souls, seeking deeper meaning.  Just look at the books and movies that are so popular these days: ” Under the Tuscan Sun”, “Eat, Pray, Love”, “A Thousand Days in Venice,” “Letters from Juliette”…..  What does Italy have that we don’t?   It has tradition, rich tradition that the people embrace fully, in their daily lives, in their food, in maintaining culture.  For me, coming from the life of pastor,  the greatest elements of this traditional culture was the life lived publicly, where all stories of life are shared among friends who consult, comfort, and celebrate with one another.  And of course, the amazing depth of worship, traditional celebration of the sacred, and the ever present witness to faith of the people via their art.  The wonder of the art was that it was often used as a means for social commentary, criticism of institutional church, and the awesomeness of a God beyond explanation.  Most Italians I met, even those who don’t formally attend church are intensely spiritual, it is a good place to seek spirit and healing.

In such a new nation, can we find a depth of spirit that seems to leave us seeking other places to find it?  Can we dig deeper into our souls to move us beyond the trappings of our culture into a sense of eternal that looks both the the past as well as to the future?  Can we reclaim in our churches and institutions the heart and soul of what was so alive in the early church, in the renaissance, in the reformation??  Are we desperate enough for depth of meaning to make profound changes in our world that take us back to what is so important, the Love of God, others and self – sustained in community???

Penicale Piazza Sacred Art

Papa Pio, Caretaker to the poor in modern Italy, a recent saint can be seen in many surprising places, a reminder of contemporary faith lived out.

Assisi Art

Gubbio Tower

A favorite place I found where the little road became a winding stair with amazing arches

One of my favorite forms of literature is poetry, savoring its gentle rhythms naturally seems to slowly ease one into a depth of meaning far deeper than the common sentence structure can allow.  From children’s whimsical poetry to epic poems that tell grandiose stories, to romance and prophetic poems, all awaken someplace special in my soul.  In September we will worship utilizing biblical poetry drenched with meaning, from Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs and the prophets.  Thus the mind spins of poetry, poetic thoughts and poetic places.

On my trip to Italy I had one place I wanted to see almost more than any other, the town of Todi, where the poet Jacopone da Todi hailed from.  Jacopone was a Franciscan who did his best to live into St. Francis’ ascetic ways, but was deeply troubled by the transition of the Franciscan Order after the master’s death into a more worldly way of being.  However, given his openness of faith, Jacopone requested from the pope that there be (2) Franciscan orders instead of the one, with one being more dedicated to the Rule of St. Francis and one being the more modern/worldly one that had evolved in the decades since Francis’ passing.  The pope refused, and Jacopone, not only a good monk, but also a good poet responded in poetic form…whereby he was promptly excommunicated from the church.    It is fun to root for the rebel, and rather romantic to admire the rebel poet, and when in Italy that seemed so appropriate…

With great curiosity I planned for my trip to Todi, requesting the most scenic driving directions from my friend Martin, and immediately insulting him by asking to travel a different way than he suggested.  But being a gentleman he gave me alternative directions and advised I watch for town signs (not as easy as it may seem).  Off I ventured on the rainy day toward a town I would find buried in clouds perched high on top of a hill, out of view from the valley below.  One of the things I noted while in Italy was how unique each hilltop village was, for their unity of form, their function and details were characterized differently through architecture and building materials.  Todi seemed so ripe for being the birthplace of a poet and man of faith.

Of the many villages I visited Todi had the most uniquely tiny roads and walkways.  I even heard one American tourist say, “whar’s Louise? She must be takin’ more pictures of the damn alleys.”  I felt that poor man saw no beauty where Louise and I found mesmerizing entryways to the beautiful unknown… winding walkways that led to conversations with a sweet man walking his dog, finding hidden chapels and museums holding a depth of meaning.  And views, views that once the clouds flew away bespoke of the beauty of the Tiber river valley that my friend Martin had suggested I drive (I would return home that way).  It was an enchanting little village with art, sacred and mystery around every little corner, a perfect place for poetry of the every spinning heart and imagination to take place.

To create art must be aware of beauty, mystery and that which is greater than oneself, Todi is a perfect setting for all this, from natural beauty to the archetecture that invites the mind to wander as the feet must to get from one place to another through many entrances, archways, vistas and people living so densly they must be in fullness of relationship to survive.

Todi inivted me to contemplate how to open up to see the sacred in surprising ways, to live looking for whatever was around the next corner or through the next passageway.  It is an invitation to the intimate, who is going to be around the next corner?  What is going to appear down the narrow street/passage to the left, so the right?  Will it be a musty chapel with sweet art, a river valley opening up in grandure before you as the clouds part, or a puppy jumping all over and licking your face?  How to revel in the joy of the moment of sweet surprise, moments of grace and beauty is our call, to be awed by the wonder of God’s creation and translate the beauty for others.  Jacopone da Todi did this so well, expressing in his poetry his awakening to the love of God.  How can we share the awesome wonder, the invitation to all???

The cute puppy greeted me with kisses, and his owner kind words as I roamed the wet and beautiful streets of Todi

Love, infusing with light all who share Your splendor (from In Praise of Divine Love)

Love, infusing with light all who share Your splendor,
You teach us the true light
Is not to be found in the light of this world.

Light that enlightens, light that teaches,
He who is not illumined by You
Does not reach the fullness of love.

Love, You give light
To the intellect in darkness
And illumine the Object of love.
Love, Your ardor,
Which enflames the heart,
Unites it with the Incarnate One.

The tower stands boldy at the center of the village, welcoming the community home.

There is a quote/saying that a friend tripped about trying to explain to me of the importance of living life within the sounds/site of the village tower in Umbria, Italy.  Explaining that there is a depth of meaning to living one’s life being able to hear the sounds of the tower bell, and to view the clock – to be connected to the heart of town.  This actually does sound incredibly wonderful, to have such a connection to place and the people that share that place with you.

Myself, I have lived in over 30 houses/apartments/dwelling places in my life, moving from place to place with some amazing well honed packing skills.  At a certain point in my life I felt I wast forever seeking “home” and at a certain point I figured there may not be such a place for me.  But the sweetness of the concept has never left the back of my mind, and the thought of their being a very strong cultural saying regarding the importance of the tower certainly struck me.

It was fun hearing the saying long after I returned from my journey, for my companion had no idea that I had taken so many photos of the various towers in the various towns we passed through.  But when the concept of tower came up, it led me to ideas for two very different types of postings, this one on the importance of community, and a second to follow on the uniqueness of communities in Umbria, a geographically small area.

In Piegaro my heart was really stirred by the importance of the tower my last night there, Wednesday evening.  As we had gone back to the apartment to settle in for the evening I received a call from a congregation member in need of a listening ear, and so decided to step out for some privacy and just walk the streets while in conversation.  It was a beautiful night after a day of thunderstorms, lightening and rain that had kept many of us indoors and having fun at the caffe during the day.  The air was fresh with the moisture of the day, yet warm and comfortable, it felt good to walk and talk around the old part of the village, circling around even to some little streets I hadn’t been on before.  I was very aware of the tower and it’s clock listening to the chimes on the half hours and seeming to keep me company on a quiet night.  The people in the village had all gone in by this time and I could hear from the homes of the village the sounds of t.v. and conversations, all winding down at the end of their day.

When I returned to the apartment, it was my friend’s turn to be on a personal call, so I went out again, circling the town, slowly walking the streets.  I took a few photos of some of the art that graced the exterior of some of the walls, and would look up when the clock struck an hour or half past again.  I would peek in occasionally to find my friend still being the long-distance love and caring for family from half a world away, and I kept walking.  Piegaro is a small town, so I walked many of the streets over and over multiple times, wondering who liked the drama, comedy or action that I could hear on the t.v.s – I was already missing this place so much and yet I could hear and feel the life that was being lived, and I could see and hear the clock in the tower.  Time moved so gracefully for moving so rapidly, I know I checked in repeatedly at the apartment and was out for a couple of hours, yet it was so soothing, I walked past the tower many times.

The tower, the last thing I could see of the town when we drove toward Rome the following day, the first thing I saw when we approached Piegaro just a few weeks before.  I remember wondering if the sweet bells that called us to worship came from the tower rather than the church that sat beside it, and now know that I forgot to ask.  The tower that when we were in town always reminded me of the time so there was no need to keep track on my own.  A beautiful thing the tower.

In our own neighborhood in Seattle our church tower has a bell, but due to neighbor’s concerns it only rings on Sundays, just before worship.  From the inside of the church one can’t hear it at all.  The other bells I hear are from the school informing the children when it is time to begin and end the day, and when to go in or out for recess.  Last week after hearing the lovely phrase about the tower the bells of the school went off for an emergency drill.  As I listened to the mournful cry of the emergency siren, not really a bell this time, I thought to myself, “now is just a test of the emergency system, or the real thing, is there an emergency?”  So, I prayed, I prayed that there was no emergency, but if there was, than it was a good time to give thanks for my incredible life, a gift from God, for all the blessings, adventures and magic along the way, and I thought of the tower.

What would it be like to live, live a life always within the sight and sound of an ever-present tower over the community?

A fun shot of Colleen searching for me the day we lost each other after the Processione, what a good place to find someone!

The community gathered in front of the church, next to the tower to begin the Processione di Miracole.

Michelle's Shop with Daniella, Gloria and Colleen

Enrico reluctantly lets his picture be taken.

Anna with the Warmest Welcome

Matteo and supplier tending business at the grocery

I realized I forgot to do one last blog on the beautiful people of Piegaro, those fun folks who have the sweet shops in the center of the old section of Piegaro.  One of my favorite aspects of Piegaro is the strong sense of community that lives within the constant foot traffic of those coming to shop for their daily needs.  Each day you meet so many of the people of town in addition to the great shopkeepers.

Michelle, the butcher was closed much of the time I was in Piegaro while he was on vacation, but made up for it with his gracious, warm presence as I went with Colleen as she shopped for a meal to be shared with Villa guests.  He artfully carved the meat to a sweet thin slice that would melt in the mouth and in a way that no meat cutter, only a true butcher could master.  All the while he was greeting the constant flow of people who entered his shop for their daily meats, or one for daily meets, just to visit.  On my last, sad morning in Piegaro before I left Michelle was one of the 3 people who purchased part of my breakfast at Caffe Via Roma, I was truly touched by his warmth and generosity.

His next door neighbors are Anna and Enrico a delightful couple who operate  adjoining businesses, a flower shop and a news/magazine shop.  At any given time, other than siesta of course, you will find one or both attending the shops and doing their best to help out even the most crazy American visitor.  Anna’s shop is always perfumed with the most beautiful live flowers and cut flowers, and if you really want to see some amazing crafting of bouquets, just wander past the shop on Domenica dell’Ascensione as Anna prepared flowers for baptisms, confirmations and weddings.  Anna can best be described as a person who truly throws herself into everything, whether exuberant welcomes, or the crafting of beautiful bouquets, all is done with great flourish and wholeness of heart.  Anna lives large!  By contrast her husband Enrico is quiet, patient, and so shyly helpful that no matter what one asks for and the length of time it takes to translate/figure out what this crazy American is asking for, he’s with you doing the best he can, with a sweet smile.

Finally in this little cluster of shops is the grocer, Matteo.  Matteo has movie star good looks who seemed to have a wonderful knack of stumbling into my path at several points in my journey in Piegaro.   After our initial meeting when Colleen was giving me the village tour, I literally ran into Matteo as he was heading to the shop, apparently late one morning and I was wandering about taking a morning walk.  The next encounter was quite humorous as Colleen sent me off to get Carrots, and I didn’t know what they were called in Italian and could not find them with the fresh veggies.  “Carrots?” I asked, “Carrots?” he questioned back…..”nyaaa What’s up Doc” I said doing my best Bugs Bunny impersonation.  “Ah, Carote” and he found a very Trader Joe’s package of the orange delicacies for me.  I think that established my street cred as a weirdo, and I truly appreciated that he always seemed amused after that…perhaps waiting for another imitation…hmmmm perhaps next year I pull out Mickey Mouse for something, except I know Formage ???

Finally something that touched my heart in the center of old town was the amazing Museo Del Vetrio, the Museum of Glass.  Piegaro has been a glass town since the 13th century, with a rich tradition of bottle making.  In the last few years they have opened this wonderful museum, but my understanding it came to life under the leadership of their new curator, Chiara.  We entered the museum on Mother’s Day, with the children outside selling their glass wares, made in classes taught at the museum, and others selling Italian traditional azaleas as a breast cancer fundraiser.  Wow, great community builder before stepping into the building!  But once inside the building there was a wonderful array of historical displays mixed with art created from the village glass to artfully presented arrangements of glass.  The museum is a place of education, community and beauty, truly one of the best “industrial” museums I have ever seen.  When I mentioned how wonderful it is, and that she is a great curator, Chiara blushed and said, “I am blessed to be able to do the work I studied for and love.”  Truly blessed are all who get to experience this place, and Chiara’s blessing is ours as well.

So ends the blogs on the people of Piegaro, it ends where it started, with my deep awareness that the answer to the tourist’s question to me in Assisi, “what was the most wonderful thing in Italy for you?”  It was, is, and will always be the people, the heart and soul of this country of heart and soul. It is a people rooted in centuries of community, work and worship.  It is people who bring beauty to the sacred, and acknowledge the blessings in their lives.  It makes me wonder if a country like ours, with such a short history and an average of citizens moving every 3 years, can go as deep into community and relationship.  And finally how do we make the most of our spirituality within our culture – in Christian terms, how can we most love God and neighbor – to the fullest in our daily life and in our neighborhood, being the most wonderful thing about our neighborhood, community, city, state and country.

Museo del Vetro displays over 700 years of glass making in PiegaroThe youth of Piegaro sell some of the glass art they created for Museo Fundraiser Festa Della Mama

Our guide inside and outside the village walls

Our guide leads us through the village

Let us begin by saying I have no idea how to make the name of this quaint hamlet roll off my tongue, for that matter, it may be misspelled….however, there is one thing I am sure of, this place is filled with the spirit of St. Francis, the sense of nature, spirit, and amazing stone define this sweet town.

As we arrived at the parking below town I was struck by the sign with map of the hiking trails that wove down through the valley and hills in the are.  We were on a time-limited mission of exploring sacred places, with no time to hike, but wow the view from the hillside town of the beautiful woods below called out to truly explore God’s sacred space in nature.  I made a mental note to return to hike this beautiful countryside and then we walked toward the village.

On the outskirts of the village was a sweet farm house with a stone wall and gateway, sitting atop the entryway was a beautiful and aloof cat.  I called “gatti, gatti, gatti” and after slowly, casually looking this way and that the cat acknowledged my presence and actually came over.  After the briefest of greetings our new friend proceeded to lead us into the village. 

We entered the village near the chapel with a grand stone plaza built in memory of the villagers who died in WWI.  Encircling the plaza where beautiful wrought iron crosses on the edge of the low lying wall that surrounded the town and from this vantage point looked over the woodlands in the valley and hillside surrounding the hamlet.  I could imagine when chapel let out and coming onto this plaza what an amazing sense of the sacred there would be going from liturgical worship space into the vast glory of God’s creation before you, with the reminder of love for those who have passed on before us.

Our host beckoned us on, through a traditional Italian archway into the inner village, where all the homes’ entrys were, as were small yet beautiful gardens and a multitude of window boxes filled with geraniums and other flowers.  Il gatto kept leading the way, to view so many signs of the sacred, from artwork of Mary and Jesus to just the sheer grandure of a centuries old stone village that breathed of life, even though all inhabitants were away at work and school.  It was like a magical tour through a mystical place where our small group had the quiet and time to explore with our newfound friend.

As it came time to leave our host walked us around the walls outside the village, taking us back to where we began, leaping to the top at his post again, watching over the village and valley, ready to greet the next group of visitors.  I, to this day, can’t get over the gift of the cat, the gift of a host to lead us through a village that was his own.  The whole experience reminded me of the awareness of St. Francis of the divine within all of God’s creation, in this case, within our friend the gatto di Greppolishieto.  How do you greet the sacred in the “other” be it human, animal, or nature?  How do you let the “other” greet and take you to mystical places?

Colleen returning from the Icon our host led her to.Thanking our beloved host

Marie a most Courteous Clerk!

The Gang from the Back Row Before Worship

Marie is a very familiar face in our neighborhood, she works as a courtesy clerk at QFC grocery, she lives just a few blocks from our church castle, and she is a member of our congregation.  She knows soooooo many people in the neighborhood not only from her job serving customers at the grocery, but because she is always about the neighborhood and on our local buses.  Marie knows every barrista in the area and is frequently invited to area events because she is so well known and loved.

Marie has moved around the Seattle area since early childhood, but she and her mom Shirley returned to our neighborhood when purchasing a home because it was a place where she felt welcomed and cared for when she was a child at Green Lake Elementary.  In turn Marie now is a member of our children’s ministry team, caring for some of the youngest in our congregation.

One of the beauties of being in the neighborhood in so many ways is that Marie truly connects with some folks that seem to fade in an out of the neighborhood scene.  I can think of how a member of our congregation had been dealing with health issues, but Marie stayed in touch with them via the grocery, and staying connected to their family, even when they weren’t able to get out.  Marie has a gift, a skill, a charming way about her that keeps her connected and connecting our community.

I had the privilege of traveling with Marie to eastern Washington for a training and learning the depth of commitment and love she has for our community, stories of her friends at Bus Stop Espresso, Peaks Custard Shop and the folks she works with at our neighborhood grocery, stories peppered with laughter and joy.  Marie has that gift, to share her laughter and joy around the community as someone who is truly connected to the people that she meets each day!

How can all of us get more connected to the various levels of neighborhood we live in?  How do our lives reflect a sense of appreciation for the place we call home?  Why do we choose to live somewhere, is a spiritual sense of place that draws us in, a place of welcome, a place of beauty or something else, more or less?!?!?!  How thankful are we of the place we call home and the people we can call neighbor?

Marie, Playing with our boys in the nursery, caring for all!

Lila A good friend and Lisa

My first named friend in Piegaro Italy was Lila, I was blessed with many friends in Piegaro, but Lila was the first to call me “Amica.”  In context we were at the caffe where Lila works, just chatting away and someone asked if I was her mother.  Lila patted my shoulder and said, “No, es mi amica Lisa!”  Lila is a beautiful, young, vivacious girl who spoke English, one of few in the village, what a breath of fresh air.  For all the great fun I had trying to communicate with my Italian friends, it was nice to have evenings of conversation and fun with Lila.  I had a little too much fun at times, using my normal slang, song lyric and movie references, talking very quickly…”piano, piccolo” Lila would say, as she asked me to slow down and use my little words.  Lila was so dear to introduce me to her mother, Ina.  Ina too is beautiful and it was great to chat with her and Colleen about motherhood and being an immigrant to this  community.

One of the treasures of getting to know Lila was that she is the age of my children, and it was nice to have a little surrogate in Piegaro, with all the sass and craziness of a teenager I have grown so fond of in my life and missed being away from my own kids.  It was a comfort to hear her stories of hating school, of her boyfriend (now fiancee) , of her horse and her struggles as a daughter with her mother, so much of life is universal in our world

It is always a gift to have friends, and nothing could have warmed my heart more than being called friend by Lila.  In our lives we often put such an emphasis on romance or finding “the one” – but there is a special grace in making friends wherever we go.  There is a sacred place in knowing the true treasure in opening ourselves to friendships and seeing the grace of love in the people we meet.  It was in sharing stories with Lila that I realized how much my heart desired to speak Italian so I could share as much with all my new found friends, it deepens to speak directly without a translator, and certainly without that dog of a tool, google translator.  I often laugh when using that tool to translate the messages of my Italian friends on facebook now and realize how goofy the translations are.  It is much more magical to speak and share in person.

I look forward to seeing dear Lila again, my friend, mi amica, who is the reflection of my beautiful daughter and young friends here.  It begs the question, how can we see connections to those and what make our heart sings no matter where we are??  How do we allow friendship to flourish in unsuspected places and open our hearts to all the love that friendship offers??? How do we take our hospitality out to all who cross our paths, to speak slowly and intentionally for the blossoming of beautiful relationships?   Friends like Lila are truly a gift from God – a gift I get to continue to enjoy via facebook and when I return again to my beloved Piegaro.

Beautiful friends

Beautiful mom and daughter, Ina and Lila

Linda at the Bookstore sharing her ever-present smile!

I met Linda and her husband Jim through our congregation member Teresa, as she yelled out an invitation to them from the coffee cart on the church porch.  Linda and Jim live within sight of the church, which is lucky for us!  They are both so delightful at Jim has volunteered at the church before, and as both have become welcome visitors to the coffee cart, sometimes with dog in tow to visit Boo, but always bringing their friendly presence and warmth even on the coldest of spring days!!

Linda is a former school librarian who now lends her talents  to Mockingbird Books, reading stories, suggesting books, helping children and adults find the books their hearts desire.  If she doesn’t have something, she will find something that will suit your needs, Linda aims to please!

When I think of people who use their talents and gifts for the best of their community I can see Linda’s skill as storyteller shining through with so much joy.  As a pastor that is always the most exciting thing, to see how people utilize the gifts that they have been so wonderfully made with!   It is exciting to see someone at a work they love, not an action movie excitement, but a deep heartfelt excitement that inspires one to find their own gifts and talents to share.

Linda takes me back to the joy of my childhood in savoring the colorful books of the library that my mother would read to me in fullness of animation and intent.  Some of my greatest memories was listening to a really good story, it has inspired me to write, preach and teach, sharing the stories of meaning and imagination in God’s world.  When Linda even speaks of her life as a librarian, or of sharing stories in the big room at Mockingbird Books each morning, her eyes sparkle, and one is drawn in.  It is the sort of thing that makes one want to borrow a child from a neighbor so they can come be part of the group at 11 a.m.

When I think of my Sesame Street years and “who are the people in your neighborhood, the people that you meet when you’re walking down the street…”  I think of Linda and Jim, people who meet and greet – are the very best of neighbors sharing life and vitality!  Today I shall have to venture down for story time at 11 a.m……Gonna be a happy day!!

Linda with Sue, two amazing "Book Ladies!"

Linda with Jim - everyone lends a hand at Mockingbird - a Family Place.

Bishop Hagiya Preaches a Rousing Sermon at PNW Annual Conference

At this year’s Pacific Northwest United Methodist Annual Conference, Bishop Grant Hagiya preached that the coming age was calling us to be right brain thinkers.  Bishop Hagiya proposed that we as a culture are moving toward an era that calls us to be evangelists and missioners with creativity and touch.  To bring a message and meaning to our communities with intention, intimacy and imagination.

Not only do I fully agree with these sentiments, which are being exalted by many authors, teachers and institutions of higher learning, but it seems it is high time to go one step further, ACT.  By the message all are proposing in this new “Right Brain” world to bring the fullness of meaning of the Gospel is not just to invite our neighbors into believing in our resurrected Lord, but in being Christian. This is an embodied faith that should leap out of our books in into our practice.

Within that framework, and as a member of Spiritual Directors International and certified by the United Methodist Church in Transforming Spirituality, I have developed with partners-in-ministry a retreat that invites clergy and laity into an immersion retreat designed to live and inspire the type of “right brain” evangelism that Bishop Hagiya spoke of.  The irony is that right brain mission is not a new idea, it is exactly what the Celts used as they spread the Gospel message across northern Europe, and it was the foundation of St. Francis’ work and ministry that forever changed Italian faith, and may have been the initial spark that ignited the Renaissance.

It is the goal to live in a community that still lives out the communal lifestyle that great right brain evangelists were a part of, and then move into practices of St. Francis, who truly lived out the fullness of this type of ministry.  At the heart of these retreats is the goal of spiritual transformation, that we let go of our left brain, analytical ways and listen for the movement of the Holy Spirit to guide us in making us fully present to our individual calls to mission in our home communities.  That via retreat, revitalization of spirit can happen to carry us through the challenging work of taking God’s saving  message out into a world in need of healing.

find out more about retreat options:  Umbria Retreat Brochure

Entering Piegaro, Ubrian Village of Beautiful People