The Cycling Clergyman: Things Not Seen or Heard, Installment #8

When I was 16 or so I wished more than anything that my dad had a "cool" truck.  Instead, we had an old beat up truck and a not so old and not so beat up truck.  Every time I voiced my desire for a better looking truck my father would repeat a saying his father used to employ, "Once you get where you're going, and are inside, no one knows or cares how you got there; they only care that you are there." But at 16 I would roll my eyes, now I see the wisdom in that saying.

Last week I took the bus over to St. Paul to officiate a wedding.  It was a beautiful Friday, so I also took my bike with me; so I could bike home after the wedding.  It felt a little odd carrying my bible, service book, and a change of clothes with me - all while wearing a suit - onto the bus.  But once the bus stopped and after I unloaded my bike, and after I arrived at the location of the wedding - no one noticed (except for the groom) that I walked my bike from the bus stop to the venue.  My grandfather was right again, no one cared how I got there; they only cared that I got there.  Nevertheless, I did have to do some clever manuvering, once I slipped back into civilian clothes, away from the wedding pictures being taken and over to my locked bike.

Now for some updates.
1.  On the ride back to Mpls I took the MRT (a bike trail that runs along the Mississippi River).  As I coasted down a hill something joing me in my coast: a bald eagle.  It was so beautiful and magical that I was lulled into a hypnotic trance.  I mention this because if the eagle had not turned abruptly I would not have turned my head and noticed the turn, the turn that keeps bicyclists from tumbling head first into oncoming traffic.  Word to the wise: eagles are beautiful and somewhat trustworthy, but dont think they are fully trustworthy.  I wouldn't be surprised if the eagle was trying to build up my trust so that next time he would not turn, causing me to crash, so that scavenger could feast on my scattered parts.

2.  Bus Justice.  The other day I was immersed in a book while riding from downtown Mpls back to church when a scuffle started.  It seems one elderly gentleman was upset with the lady sitting next to him.  The elderly man started yelling and cursing.  The dude sitting beside me, calmly, with a lolipop in his mouth, shouted, "Shut the F*** up and sit your f***ing a** down"  The elderly man stood up and got off the bus.  Would the same thing have happened if I had gone to the elderly man and got between him and the woman (which was what I was going to do)?  How would the elderly man have reacted if I had calmly told him to sit down, take my seat, and chill out?  I dont know.  The bus was moving, there were a lot of people aboard.  Maybe at the moment all that could have been done was to yell, calmly, with a lolipop in your mouth, Shut the...  But I hope not.

3.  The Importance of a Living Wage.  As I rode the bus up from the police station downtown a woman got aboard wearing a subway sweatshirt.  The woman next to her asked if she, indeed, worked at subway to which the woman replied, "Nope, I work at the grocery store.  But I applied to work at the new warehouse where they pay $16/hour.  If I could make $16/hour do you know what that would mean for me?"

4.  On Being Lazy, or the Temptation to be Lazy.  A couple weeks ago I used, for the first time, Car2Go.  It was a great experience.  I noticed thereafter how tempting it is to just use Car2Go rather than ride my bike or take the bus.  Because riding my bike and taking the bus takes more time, and I have to plan my days out more.  How easy it is to simply take the Car2Go wherever and whenever I need to go.  Sure, it has been a great benefit to use the carsharing tool but it also nearly sunk my bike/bus experiment.

It is kind of like organics recycling.  Minneapolis now has an organics recycling program, which is great.  I now have a place to put bones and dryer lint and wax paper and pizza boxes.  But you can also place paper towels, tissues, paper plates and such in the organics recycling.  Rather than limiting my use of paper towles I think no big deal I can recycle them.  But that's not the point.

Perhaps that is why sloth is one of seven deadly sins.  Because before you know it, not only are you right back where you started but even worse off than when you first started.

Are You Ready for Michaelmas?

     As Americans continue to condense into urban centers our ability to stay connected to the land that sustains us has become more fragile.  Our disconnection will continue to have dire consequences unless we intentionally sow a creative relationship with the land and the people that work it.  One way to connect urbanites with farming concerns is with the observance/celebration of Michaelmas on September 29.  (for the record, Judson will observe Michaelmas Oct. 5th)

     Never heard of Michaelmas?  Neither had I until I read the recipe for Struan in Peter Reinhart’s Brother Juniper’s Bread Book: Slow Rise and Method as Metaphor.  Struan is bread, made with harvested grains, the ancient Celts baked for Michaelmas.  The day was an ancient locavore feast.  The more I researched Michaelmas the more I realized this largely forgotten holy day could be the day for urban churches to connect with the land.

-What if on the weekend before Michaelmas churches offered locally harvested/sourced meals?

-What if churches imagined Michaelmas as the day to lift up compassionate and sustainable agriculture practices as part of its mission?

-What if churches offered Michaelmas as the holy day for urban populations to reconnect with the land and rhythms of life our ancestors intuitively knew?

     Like most, if not all, religious holy days, Michaelmas, originated as an agricultural observation.  The ancients Celts celebrated the last harvest after the equinox with bread, poems, songs, dancing, and feasting.  To the protector of the harvest, Saint Michael the Archangel, they offered prayers and incantations. 

Michaelmas could become the urbanite-locavore “holy day.”  By the time the fourth Thursday in November rolls around our tomato vines have shriveled and apples have dropped.  September 29^th is the perfect time to enjoy the peak bounty of the harvest season. 

     By observing the day we can both reconnect with the land and deepen the relationships with the communities we will need in order to flourish.  Environmental author and activist Bill McKibben has stated the best thing we can to do adapt in a changed climate is to forge deep relationships in small communities (like churches).  We cannot afford anymore too-big-to-fail institutions, we need communities so small and deep they succeed. 

  

     

     This week deepen your relationships by going to your local farmer’s market and filling up your basket.  Then invite over friends, family, neighbors and soon-to-be friends over for a local feast.  Bake a loaf of Struan (it makes killer toast for breakfast the following morning), write a blessing, place some Michaelmas daisies (or any asters, or any local flowers) on your table, say thanks to those who nurtured the land, and have a joyous local Michaelmas meal.  

Traditional blessing, translate by Alexander Carmichael

Each meal beneath my roof

They will all be mixed together,

In name of God the Son,

Who gave them growth.

Milk, and eggs, and butter,

The good produce of our own flock,

There shall be no dearth in our land,

Nor in our dwelling.

In name of Michael of my love,

Who bequeathed to us the power,

With the blessing of the Lamb,

And of His Mother.

Humble us at thy footstool,

Be thine own sanctuary around us,

Ward from us spectre, sprite, oppression,

And preserve us.

Are we on Kairos Time or is it just a hyper Chronos Moment?

Sometime over the last few days while riding in a Car2Go, I was sick last week (gimme a break), I heard a commentator on the radio talk about the failure of the #Occupy Wall Street movement.  Something along the lines "they had no agenda or didnt make any specific demands or was not attached to a political machine."  On the surface the commentator was correct but under the surface...he couldnt have been further from the truth.

I confess that during the #Occupy time I was not at all connected or interested.  Ironically I was unemployed, had only emergency health insurance for me and my family, every day was a struggle to get by, debts were mounting & etc - if there ever was a time I should have been connected or interested, it was then.  But I was emotionally depressed and drifting and desperate, I had to get a job.  Thanks to some dear friends, a loving (and patient) spouse, an amazing therapist, the world's greatest American Baptist Churches, USA executive minister, and the world's greatest American Baptist congregation I made it through my trial.  I am just now in a place where I feel I can connect with the #Occupy movement.  I hope I'm not too late.

The movement is over you say, there are no more camps, protests, no meaningful legislation...  Au contraire.

-This weekend at least 400,000 people marched in the streets of New York City to march for the environment and demand meaningful and immediate action.
-This Spring a nearly 700 page book on economic disparity was on the best seller list!
-Seattle has set the bar with a $15/hour minimum wage.
-Further expansion of LGBTQIA rights in state and federal courts.
-Moral Mondays demonstrations/marches in North Carolina and other states.
-Righteous Outrage in St. Louis!
-How the water pollution in Charleston, WV brought a new consciousness to the community.

I look at these events and others as a movement, a movement that is saying ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.  These events and others, in my view, are the children of the #Occupy Movement.

Are we on Kairos Time or is this just a hyper Chronos Moment?  It will be just a hyper Chronos Moment unless various groups get together, sing the same song, and push this to Kairos Time.  I'm hoping, preaching, praying, joining with others, and doing what I can to make this Kairos Time.

How are you helping to push this chunk of existence to Kairos time?

an adaptation of Howard Thurman's Prayer, The Work of Christmas

When the songs of the protest are stilled,
When the banners in the sky are gone,
When the event organizers are home,
When the marches are back with in their homes,
The work of Kairos begins:

To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To expand equal rights for all,
To pay the worker a living wage,
To release the prisoner,
To reconcile the human family,
To repair the earth,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among brothers & sisters,
To make music in the heart.

Damson Plums

The other day I arrived a little early for a visit with a parishioner.  I was in the Seward neighborhood so I moseyed over to Seward Co-op to have a look-see.  To my surprise, I discovered an entire bin of Damson Plums.

Several years ago, when I lived in RI, I used to buy Damson Plum jam jars by the case.  I love damson plum jam.  But I have not seen it anywhere in Minnesota.  When I saw the bin of damson plums, I granted myself a 100 mile leniency (more on this later) and envisioned homemade damson plum jam; I bought several pounds worth.  I was so caught up in making my own damson plum jam that I forgot that I would have to not only carry my bag of plums with me on my pastoral visit, but I would also have to lull them around on the bus ride back to church and haul them on my bike from the church to the house.

Oh well.

Yesterday I carved out a couple hours to make jam.  I thought it was going to be super easy, especially with our cherry pitter.

Not so, cherry pits are smaller than plum pits.  Alas, hand pitted plums.   

I looked online for several recipes but they were either too complicated or had too much sugar.  So I improvised.  A pot of cut up plums (with skins), a little less than two cup of sugar, about a half cup of water, and began cooking.  When I thought it looked like jam I stopped cooking, jarred the jam, then placed the jars in boiling water for 10 minutes.

 

reaction from my youngest.  This isn't good, it's delicious!!!

A Day Well Spent: What Does a Pastor Do on His Day Off

This Friday I had my first full day off in a good while; I took a bike ride and went on a hike.  I do not know what my other colleagues do on their days off but I try and get out of the city and to the countryside whenever possible.  I know that i need to fill up my "silence reservoirs" as much as possible.  But with only a bike/bus (or car share) as my transportation and deeper explorations into agrarianism, and having to be home by mid afternoon to pick up the kiddos my options are limited. But that doesn't mean there are not meaningful options.  

This Friday I made a pot of coffee, hopped on my bike, and started riding.  

First stop, Melo-Glaze donuts.  As an old-man-in-training I ordered one plain cake donut, but they were out of cake donuts.  So I got a plain long john.  

Second stop, public library.  I turned in some books and checked out a few magazines, movies, cds, and books.  

Third stop, Fort Snelling State Park for a hike around Pike Island.  

Fauna spotted: one whitetail deer, plenty of squirrels, one eagle, two crows, lots of birds (I really do need to start learning the names of birds), and lots of beaver signs. 

Flora: cottonwood, oak, wildflowers, and lots of once tamed grape vines.

The hike began with an interesting historical flood marker.  I wonder where the flooding of this Spring and Summer was on this marker?

The main destination of the hike was to see the point where the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers converged.  It was a little melodramatic, maybe I had more in mind, maybe it was the steamboat pushed by a tug boat, maybe it was the crowd of high school students on the steamboat waving to me, maybe it was that the convergence was like any other meeting of two rivers.  

I also know that the meeting of the two rivers (MDOTE, or Mendota) had significant meaning for the Lakota people.  

It was their Eden.  

Finally, a picture of Fort Snelling.  I know my boys were not the first to ever term this moniker but it is still funny: Fort Smelling.  

The Writing Pastor: a year's worth or words.

As an experiment last year I put all of my pastoral writings in a three ring binder. I included sermons (and sermon outlines when I didn't preach from a script), morning prayers (when I wrote them and did not offer them extemporaneously), welcomes (when I remembered to write them), benedictions (I've almost crafted "my" benediction), letters to the editor (3 last year), articles submitted for publication (2, 1 was accepted), wedding homilies, funeral homilies, & opening remarks before a concert. 


Here is a year's worth of pastoral writing:

Yes, that is a 7 year old macbook.  Yes, that is a portion of a sermon on the left mentioning Gustavo Gutierrez.  And yes, I write out most of my sermons in long hand first.



For the 2014-15 preaching year (which I view as late August to late June) I am keeping track of sermons, prayers, welcomes, benedictions, weekly emails, monthly newsletter articles, article submissions for publication, newspaper submissions, lectures (i am hopefully teaching a course in the Spring), letters to preschool parents, & etc.

Why am I doing this?

One, pastors are writers.

Two, so I can review my thoughts, sentences, and ideas.  Mary Nilsen shared with me the wisdom of this review process.  Also, it is easy for me to repeat myself.  But then again it is easy for folk not to know I am repeating myself.  Rule #304 for pastors: Do not fool yourself into thinking parishioners are always listening.  They do listen, but not all the time. 

Three, I have realized that many seeds for articles emerge from my sermons.  I like the Ralph Waldo Emerson example.  First, there are the ideas in my journal.  Second, these ideas, sometimes, come to life in a sermon.  Third, I take the initial ideas and research to expand (or contract) them into a fuller article, chapter, or essay.

Lastly, I can see what God is up to with me.

The Cycling Clergyman: Installment #7: Summer Update

With MPR's Paul Huttner predicting a wind chill of 36 degrees this week I reckon I better hurry up and post a summer update.

1.  General Update.  I have continued to ride my bike and take the bus for my work as a pastor. I know a situation will emerge when I will need immediate (and fast) transportation, so I signed up for a Car2Go membership, C2G's area now includes both Minneapolis & St. Paul (but I have yet to use it).

2.  Changes.
A.  Time.  I am amazed at how riding my bike and taking the bus has changed my outlook on time.  I know that getting from Point A to Point B will take more time on my bike or on the bus.  I used to get frustrated by this slowness, but no more.  Now I appreciate the scenery and the people I see and the relative quiet.  In June I took the bus over to Augsburg College to visit someone, it took me almost an hour.  Rather than get frustrated at the length of time, I used the time on the bus to read (I read almost 55 pages of a theology book!  When was the last time you had an hour of silence to read 55 pages of theology - that bus pass just got a little more tantalizing).

B.  Bike Racks.  Since I last wrote a post Judson Memorial Baptist Church and Judson Preschool and Dero and the City of Minneapolis got together and installed not one, not two, not three, but four bike racks on Harriet Ave.  Woohoo.

C.  Influence.  I have no idea if my riding around town has much, if any, impact on congregants or others.  But I have noticed an uptick in the number of bikes parked at Judson on Sunday mornings and throughout the week.  (For the record it was a Judson member who rode their bike during the winter that provided initial inspiration).  And I had one member share about the insights he/she has since he/she also started riding their bike to work.

this my jersey from the race.
it was fun to have people cheer for Rev.
Especially, the chant, "go rev go"
Someone also yelled, "give em hell Rev.  

D.  Physical.  Unknown to most, I have always had a secret desire to do a triathlon.  In January, around the time I started riding my bike full-time, I registered for a tri in Aug.  This August I finished two triathlons.  I reckoned if I could ride my bike in the snow and wind I could finish a tri.  I was right.

It was great fun training and competing in the races.  I cannot wait until to a few more next year.  (I need to report that for the last race I was mis-registered as a newbie - basically for a glorified kids triathlon.  I corrected the mistake on race day, but my times were reported with the newbies.  For the 100 yard swim everyone else had times of around 4 minutes while mine read 18 minutes.)  For the record, I competed a Sprint distance tri with a swim length of 1/2 mile.










Another, deeply lodged, impetus for riding my bike full-time was to also get in shape.  As a pastor there are times when entire groups of muscles do not get used.  I sit down quite a bit and eat lots of unhealthy, but tasty, foods.  Last year while at the Minnesota State Fair I got on the official scales at the Minnesota Commerce booth; I weighed a whopping 196 lbs.  I had not weighed that much since my senior year of high school, when I was the starting left offensive tackle (I was really a guard but the coach flipped the tackles and guards to combat the 4-4 defensive scheme).  I vowed then and there that I would weigh less than 196 lbs the next time I was at the fair and climbed those scales.  Thanks to riding my bike, cutting back on sweets (and beer, but since nearly all Minnesota beers taste like some version of grapefruit, this was not nearly as difficult as you may think it was), and training for the triathlons I am proud to say I lost nearly 15lbs.





















E.  Style.  For most of the winter and spring I wore my clerical collar.  But I really dont like my clerical collar.  I know I can wear them but everyone either thinks I am a Lutheran, Catholic, or Episcopal pastors - all are welcomed associations but I am quite fond of my baptistness.  I tried the blue + baptist + water = blue clerical collar shirt but no one "got" my association.  I tried a blue and white striped and a plain white clergy shirt but I spilled coffee on them both the first day I wore them.  Plus, once when my collar "popped out" on my white shirt a clerk at a store was convinced something was terribly wrong with my shirt, she was deeply troubled by it.  Resolution: I went Tom Rice or Lawrence Hargrave or Bill Austin- i.e. back to the bow tie, exculsively.  I love bow ties.

Here is my first sermon back after summer vacation, with a bow tie.  I think this may be my favorite sermon of all time.  Why?  It describes my self re-discovery.  Thank you Judson.

Judson Sermon 20140817 "An Expanded Heart" from Jacqueline Thureson on Vimeo.


that's a wrap, for now.  Join with me, get on your bike and get moving.

Langiappe:  

a bucket of Sweet Martha's from the State Fair

a sign at my favorite (sometimes) donut shop.  Favorite that is when they have plain cake donuts in stock.  Yes, my favorite donut is a plain cake donut.  Yes, I like my coffee black.  Yes, I am an old-man-in-training.