Home is...

Home is where the heart is.

Home is where your friends are

Home is where the Army sends you

Home is where a hot meal and good friends sit around the table with you

You might know the phrase with a different ending. Regardless it reminds me that we define home in several ways, not just in an address.

As many of you already know I grew up in a military family, we moved routinely every 1-3 years. One of my least favorite questions to be asked was “where is home”- you see both of my grandfathers were also in the army, so while they resided in Florida and in Arizona, those places were not their places of origin though they had become home.

How do we define home?

In the south this is in reference to where our people are from, where they are buried, where they have come from.

For me home has become where you are in the moment and what has formed you. AND home is where there is a seat a the table.

For me, Sewanee is one of those places. College was the first time I lived anywhere for 4 years and during those four years my parents moved 3 times. Sewanee, though, stayed the same (sometimes a strength and sometimes that is it’s own weakness). Sewanee is the place where I chose to listen more deeply, to wander, to be in groups that were different, and ask harder questions. And we always found food together in the dining hall.

Sewanee is also a place I keep coming back to, for weddings, for funerals, for council meetings and while an official capacity brings me back now, it’s the relationships that make it home. Finding time to drink a cup of coffee or tea, go for a run (race pace has been redefined from those college years) and savor the space as it changes and as I do too. Tonight we will share a meal together with the soon to be graduating class of seminarians as they head out from calling Sewanee “home” for three years and go to “work in the vineyard.” Home is about to change for these new graduates.

At St Luke’s in Atlanta they are home to a congregation who worships there, they are also home to a “soup kitchen” where folks come to eat and they are the physical home address to a large population that have no homes. As you may or may not realize, to do a lot of the paperwork you need to have a job you must have a physical address. St Luke’s has become that for their people who are in need and go through their assistance program. While people do not reside at the church, they do not have a shelter, they do have a program where St Luke’s is their mailing address, mailroom, and physical home address. The church opens up their doors so that their folks in need can get their feet on the ground and on their way to finding and creating their own homes. 

As I am traveling, I have been staying in homes along the way. Dear friends have opened their doors and and tables to invite me in and we get to sit around the table sharing a meal and catching up, hearing where the spirit is moving in each person’s life and laughing at the joyful adventures God has us on. Each space has become home for the night for me, each meal feeding both heart and soul.

Where is home for you? Is it a place? Is a meal? 

How are you inviting others in to experience “home” with you and inviting them to your table?

How to not get kicked out of a monastery (or the grace and mercy I received on my first visit)

First, When you hear a bell, arrive where you should be. Do not ignore bell and finish up last email because the WiFi worked. If you choose to ignore the first bell, the second bell will be rung for your benefit and you will arrive to the welcoming (and hungry faces) of the brothers and other residents who were waiting on you to say grace and then eat.

Second, inside the house, shoes are not worn. It was suggested to bring slippers or warm socks. I would also add barre socks or those cool hospital socks with grippies on them would be smart, though the socks that say “If you can read this bring me a glass of wine” might not be the correct socks... perhaps there is a whole untapped market for these socks.. monastic socks would say, “Be Prayerful” or “If you can read these I am at Emery House”

Third, When it begins to snow on a mid April day and you are from Florida, try to contain your excitement and do not run into the other room frantically pointing out the window like the flying monkeys from the wizard of Oz just flew by.... making the first person you run into break their silence. (Note, I did not break my silence first, he did—- there is something wrong about my joy in that point).... first person I saw said (out loud) “Oh my God, SNOW!”

In a monastery you are in silence, it’s beautiful. They also have a 24 hour coffee station with homemade cookies. They are delicious. So while you can quietly listen to God, the demon is in the cookies and coffee! Or the cookies and coffee are all day Eucharist.... lovely, I like the second better (can you tell I have already been partaking in the all day Eucharistic snacks?)

In a monastery you are in community and the only major spoken conversations are in the form of said prayers. It’s delightful. The Psalms are said more slowly than I have said them in a long time and you truly HEAR the words of the psalmist. The hymns are sung without accompaniment and also more sung more slowly and words hang in the air....giving each verse the beauty with which it was written and delightful poetry to savor.

Being In community without spoken words means I know the names of the people here but not who is named which name. We pray for the group by name but being the only female here I have no idea who is Bob (there are 2 apparently) and who is George and who is Dean...etc..... I have decided, like on Cutthroat Kitchen, they are all now named Bob. We also know no one’s story, where they have been or when they are leaving. Yet it’s okay. The gift of silence is we are all here and not that one is more talkative than the other. We celebrated Eucharist together and I looked around- you don’t know who is ordained, who is not, who is liberal or conservative, who is retired and who is working, we all are there praying and singing together, receiving gratefully and equally.

I just finished a book called “A Bigger Table”- it has four goal values for churches: Hospitality, Authenticity, Diversity and Agenda Free relationships. It reminded me of the gift of hospitality of the spaces I have stayed in recently. 

Here the hospitality is in providing a safe space to be fed in heart mind and soul. The Brothers provide meals, cookies and coffee, and prayers. They meet each person where they are and they pray for them before they arrive, while they are here and when they depart. While I know they do other things in the meanwhile, the gift of their peaceful demeanor welcomes each traveler right where they are as they come through the door.

In January of this year I had the blessing of being in worship at Grace Cathedral in Charleston, SC, their hospitality was amazing. As a guest in liturgy, with the other participants in that liturgy, we walked through the service so that everyone was acquainted with the space and the liturgical dance of which we were about to partake. The host greeted each of us with warmth and welcome and answered all of our questions with patience and repeated things as needed. It was a true grace and welcome when they could have said to us, “This is our church, you will do as we say”— such joy and grace and welcome allowed all of us to be who we were called to be in liturgy and fully flourish.

How often do we get distracted by the next item that we forget to be present with the people we are with, to hear them fully, to welcome them where they are and let them bloom and be recognized for who they are? How often are we comfortable with silence in community?

Emery House

Have you ever kept silence?

I am not talking about the “Quiet Game”- you know, the one, the one your parents (or you as a parent) have instigated out of a desire of a quieter space with less bickering, I am talking about, as the psalm says, “Be Still and Know”

Being still and being quiet are HARD in this day and age.

We live in a world where ever statement expects an answer, people ramble on just to work out their own thoughts or just to fill the space. There is always a radio, TV, podcast, pandora station, or youtube video to listen to. 

To find quiet we have to literally unplug and disconnect. Intentionally remove the stimuli and even then often we find ourselves still looking to the next thing to do. being still is not what we are good at, or perhaps not what I am good at doing naturally.

Most of us are still when we are asleep. Deep and restful sleep freshens us.  Deep stillness in the same way also refreshes us, allows us to regain our center and focus.

I arrived this afternoon at the Emery House for my retreat.

At the Emery House we do everything in silence except prayers at 7:30am, 12noon, 6pm and 8pm. All else is in silence (well except when you arrive, they do greet you and welcome you). I sat in my room awaiting prayers this afternoon and listened to how quiet the house was and how still it was. The stillness brought the reminder to me all that I am thankful for, the gifts of stillness, of time, of people as they flitted in and out of my mind.

Emery House was originally a working farm that was donated to the Society of St John the Evangelist for hospitality and retreat. The Emery Family were hard workers and felt strongly about caring for the poor and hospitality to their neighbors, they inherited land and when the final family member died, they gave this house to the brothers to allow others to come and be fed in mind, body and spirit.

How do you keep silence?

How do you help others find and keep silence in their lives? (Perhaps “The Quiet Game” isn’t such a bad idea after all)

A Taste of Boston

On the first Sunday of Sabbatical my true love gave me a 5:30am flight to Boston!

Early but we arrived in time to go straight to a Red Sox game in 37 degree weather. The ballpark frank was DELICIOUS and the FREE hot chocolate just as good! After a day of Traveling we were toast and headed to bed early.

Monday, April 16, was Patriots’ Day and, of course, the boston marathon. Rob and I grabbed breakfast and then hopped on the T. We entered into McGreevey’s to watch the race - the weather was RIDICULOUSly gross. COLD and DOWNPOURING, we were delighted to be inside and quickly made friends with folks at the bar who were cheering on a young man from Nebraska who was doing really well! Sam Adams even brews a special brew for the marathon called: “26.2” It was amazing to watch the finishes and cheer folks on.

Amazing the professionals and all the runners as they accomplished such a race, the joy of those who have run it before and those we saw the next day in Boston hobbling as they walked- Boston was full of joy and passion despite such dismal weather.

We ate oysters at the Oyster House and Cannolis at Mike’s and then took my sodden self home (Rob wins best dressed for weather that day).

Our Final day in Boston was spent in Plymouth, Milton, Brookline, Cambridge, and Salem. We had a car, what can I say?! It is astounding how many of the 102 pilgrims did not last the first year in Plymouth. Also noteworthy was the burial ground (originally they hid their dead so the natives could not see that they were weak) and the memorial to the native chief are not too far apart on top of the hill looking towards the sea. Between the two is a plaque stating the “Day of mourning” that is celebrated on Thanksgiving Day. A hearty reminder that the pilgrims survival also meant natives were killed and died due to colonies.

In Milton, Rob found the house he lived in for a year while his father was on sabbatical, we saw the birthplace of George W Bush (who knew!) and then headed to Cambridge where we saw JFK’s birthplace and the Julia Childs’ home. We ended up at JFK’s library and walked through history- a Great Wall for the peace corps and another glimpse into the civil rights movement from JFK’s perspective.

We ended with dinner in Salem, chasing the witches and sunset. Also noteworthy was a memorial in Salem for the women who were killed for “being witches” and the unfairness to them.....a beautiful grove of trees planted for each of the women named.

A Wedding in Mississippi

So MOST people begin their sabbatical with retreat time.

The first weekend of my sabbatical was filled with officiating and celebrating a wedding.

A wonderful opportunity to SEE a family I had not seen in nearly 10 years hear of their joy and help them celebrate their new chapter in their life.

To get to the wedding, I flew into Memphis, TN and took the time to visit the Loraine Hotel, the place where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assasinated 50 years ago this month. The museum they have created in this space in comprehensive and awe-filling. The story telling was moving and reminds us that the story isn’t over. The entire second museum is about the continuing legacy of MLK and the voices yet to be heard and who are helping to make these stories be heard.

I continued south to Mississippi to rehearse the service and then eat dinner with the wedding party and family at the bride’s grandfather’s home, a big house filled to the brim with family and friends and lots of BBQ.

The next morning we got up and went to Oxford, MS and ate at the Big Bad Breakfast restaurant and then toured the square, I caught up with friends and we dodged raindrops. We were not able to go to the Ajax Diner which employed every member of the bride’s family at one time or another, adopting them in as family.

The wedding was beautiful and joyfilled. A 19th century methodist church was a fun liturgical space for an episcopal wedding complete with Eucharist :). The reception was again at the Bride’s grandfather’s home catered by a restaurant in town whose tradition is to feed the entire staff after closing. All invited to the table to make sure there is at least one good meal in their bellies. It was a kind and wonderful gathering from meal to meal, table to table as we blessed this new couple and refreshed old friendships. 

TASTE and SEE- Cooking Class#1

Taste and See

Our first cooking class was Cuban Cooking, we watched and tasted the delicious-ness of Cuban Mojo Pork, Rice, Sofrito, Beans, and cinnamon covered plantains. There was also a sweet, but not too sweeet, mango and passion fruit mouse cake for dessert. YUMMO!

At Kitchenable, Jessica leads you through the entire recipe and then lets you "taste and see" what you too can make at home. We really enjoy her classes, she is knowledgeable in the culinary arts! 

Pictured below are our appetizer of pimento cheese and crackers, the main course of Pork, rice, beans, and sofrito, and then of course the plantains.

A Table Overflowing with Love

What a wonderful week!

Easter was April 1st, I celebrated a birthday with a 10k run and then this past Sunday I experienced so much love and grace with a magnificent send off. In our liturgy at 9 and 11:15am we said our prayers, ya'll blessing me on my adventure and I meant every word that I said, "I will miss you and am thankful for the ministry that you will do while I am away and the ministry God has for us when I get back!" My heart is full of love and my coffee table is full and overflowing with the tangible well wishes for this sabbatical time.

I am so grateful for the support of friends and family as we begin this sabbatical time. I am in the midst of "refinding" my tables in my house, scaring aware the dust bunnies, cleaning away the cobwebs and sorting through things that have been piling up.

While my entire sabbatical will not be "doing" tasks, sometimes you have to clear out the cobwebs so that you can see more deeply as to where God has been dwelling in your midst and the gifts and joys that have been dormant in my life.

Sabbatical rhythm is different, my schedule has shifted, my pace is a bit different, I look forward to sharing more as the cobwebs dissipate and the adventures continue!