Connecticut Conference Staff Blog

Eric Anderson: "Spirit Calendar: Chance"

Mon, 14 May 2012 15:46:56 -0500

This Spirit Calendar post for May 14 was based on Acts 1:15-17, 21-26.

There are plenty of odd things about this little story -- why did Peter feel so strongly that twelve must remain twelve, for example -- but oddest of all is this final exercise to select the one who would join that leadership core, the twelve apostles. They considered the candidates, narrowed the field to two, and then... They gambled.

They cast lots. They threw the dice. They... Gambled.

I won't gamble for money. I like to tell people that, on my only trip to Las Vegas, I broke even. I did it, of course, by never placing a bet. And I'm very concerned about the extent to which we fund government in this state and others with the losses suffered by unlucky gamblers. I don't think that's a just way to pay for public services.

But I will gamble on the leadership of Christ's church, because I believe that God has loaded the dice.

I'm a mentor in the Thinking About Working for God (TAWFG) program, which seeks to help local churches to notice, name, and nurture the young people in their congregations with the gifts, and perhaps the call, to ordained ministry. I hoped I'd be asked because one of the great joys of my ministry was the day I gave the charge to a newly ordained young man, Seth Carey, who had been in my confirmation class some years before, a young man whom I'd asked, 'Have you ever considered entering the ministry?' Today he serves alongside the Rev. Lillian Daniel in Glen Ellyn, Illinois.

On Friday night, I waited to hear what Connor Wood, a TAWFG member from Southbury, had to say, as he addressed the two hundred assembled for the Youth Revival at Liberty Christian Center in Hartford. Unlike many TAWFG members, Connor has no doubt about what he wants to do: he wants to be a pastor.

Connor's sermon wasn't polished, and neither was that of Gabby Cusano, a member of First Church of Christ UCC in Simsbury. They're just starting, after all. But both were direct, honest, and authentic. Gabby dared to tell just how hard her life is amidst the green lawns and picket fences of Simsbury; Connor dared to assert that '[Church] is a place where we can rejoice and mourn, and it's a place where we're at peace with the world,' in a society that increasingly discounts the value of religious community.

We do our best to encourage people with talent and generous spirits to take up leadership in the Church. And mercifully, God steps in to raise up the people we didn't know, didn't notice, didn't expect. During the TAWFG retreat last January, the eyes of all of the adults brimmed with tears when the Spirit moved in the young people we thought we were guiding. On Friday night, mine filled again, when God took charge.

Did I call it gambling? Perish the thought. Christ's Church is in God's hands: and God is good. All the time.

Prayer:

Loving One, we submit our hopes and dreams for Jesus' Church to you. We know that its future may not look like its past; we know that our desires may not be yours; we know that the Church is yours. Guide and bless us as disciples, even as you call, guide, and inspire new generations of disciples. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Eric Anderson: "Telling Stories"

Fri, 11 May 2012 15:18:23 -0500

Telling Stories

Many of the people who attended the Associated Church Press meeting in Chicago do, as you might expect from the organization's name, work in print journalism on behalf of church-related bodies. So I thought it was an interesting choice when the convention opened on Monday, May 1, with a film: 'The Interrupters,' produced by Steve James and Alex Kotlowitz.

The 2011 documentary follows three members of Chicago's CeaseFire project as they intervene with young people amidst the stresses of urban poverty, trying to prevent the next beating, shooting, stabbing, or death. Responding to calls from parents, neighbors, or friends, the outreach workers begin conversations with proud, desperate, insulted, and angry men and women -- all too often boys and girls -- who tremble on the brink of a violent act. One-on-one, sometimes two-on-one, they talk and listen, talk and listen, talk and listen. Sometimes it works.

In one astonishing scene, two CeaseFire workers visit the home of a furious young man, bent on revenge, clearly inebriated, and carrying a concealed handgun. The camera clearly captures the lurking danger; I thought I read, for a moment, the shadow of despair pass across one visitor's face. 'What are you going to do for me?' the angry man demanded.

'I'll listen to you. I'll take you to lunch,' came the reply.

'Right now? You'll take me to lunch right now?' the young man scoffed.

'Sure. Right now.'

And he did it. He left the gun inside the house, and off the trio drove to find a meal and a space for him to talk.

He wanted someone to listen to his story.

On Tuesday Kim Bobo addressed us. Bobo is executive director of Interfaith Worker Justice, and she had some story assignments for us: covering the ways that congregations have responded to the unemployment crisis, the ways that income disparity has also corresponded with suffering in the economic downturn, the ways low wage workers lose even more earnings to being denied minimum wage, overtime pay, and benefits.

She wanted us to tell their stories.

And so the theme continued throughout the program. Carmen Aguinaco, whose ministries and leadership credits includes founding the bilingual periodicals of Claretian Publications (a Roman Catholic printing house), warned us about telling stories that their subjects would recognize. The very term 'Hispanic,' she warned is one that has little meaning to those designated by it, who think of themselves as Mexicans, or Guatemalans, or Cubans, or even as Americans. She urged the use of language that tells true stories of real people, stories that recognize the broad horizons of human potential, and do not put their subjects 'in a box' from which, because stories have power, they may be less able to escape.

She wanted us to tell their stories.

For the record, my friends, that's what I intend to do: tell people's stories. Specifically, as the Minister of Communications and Technology for the Connecticut Conference of the United Church of Christ, I think it's my role to help the UCC congregations of this state tell their stories. Sometimes I'll do that as an editor, preparing someone else's text for publication; sometimes I'll do that as a writer, photographer, and even videographer, following the course of the story myself.

Because stories have power. They open hearts and minds to new possibilities and new futures. They won't feed the hungry or liberate the oppressed, but they will inspire those who had been ignorant (and are no longer) to see that food and freedom come to those in need.

Stories have power. Christians know this. For in the end, we have two things. One is the sense of Jesus' presence, which may be strong at some times, but vanishingly weak at others. The other is the old, old story -- which never quite leaves us -- of Jesus and his love.

In my most shadowed hours, I've been unable to sense God's presence despite the immanence of love. But I've never forgotten the story.

Call me a storyteller. It's the proudest title I claim.

Eric Anderson: "Spirit Calendar: The Hardest Commandment"

Mon, 07 May 2012 11:53:31 -0500

This Spirit Calendar reflection for May 7, 2012, was based on John 15:9-17

'As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.

'This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.'

Reflection:

At the close of the first part of George Frideric Handel's choral masterpiece, Messiah, the choir commits irony. First the sopranos, then the tenors, then the altos and basses, sing the airy, lilting lyric, 'His yoke is easy, his burden is light.' The irony, of course, is that the chorus isn't easy at all, and gets steadily more difficult until it reaches the grand chords which complete Handel's account of Jesus' birth and ministry, before its mood changes as Handel describes Christ's passion and death.

That same irony permeates this scene at the Last Supper. Jesus has prophesied his betrayal and crucifixion; he has even sent his betrayer out into the night to perform that deed. When he calls the remaining eleven his friends, because they know what he is doing (though they seem entirely clueless), he lays a considerable burden on them. 'You are my friends if you do what I command you,' he tells them. And the command?

'Love one another as I have loved you.'

Love each other to the point where you will give up your life for each other.

That's no easy yoke. That's no light burden.

I've never understood why anyone would say that love is easy. Attraction is easy; desire is easy: these are feelings that just spring out of our brain and blood. Love -- the deliberate choice to place someone else's interests at or above your own -- is difficult indeed, even at the most human levels of lovers, partners, siblings, parents, and children. Self-interest wants its due, and sometimes selfishness. Genuine needs conflict with each other. It's bad enough when 'I want' confronts 'You need;' it's worse when 'You need' meets 'I need.'

I have no great advice to offer on this fundamental problem of Christianity. I can't think of a single way to make the yoke easy. We don't even have the excuse of ignorance -- like the eleven on the night of betrayal and desertion, we know what the Master, Jesus, has been doing, and has asked us to do. All I can counsel is to walk ahead with eyes wide open -- keep awake, to use Jesus' own phrase -- and face each challenge of love as it comes.

Sometimes it will be easy. Sometimes desire and need run together. But when they don't, and when we follow Jesus' command despite the cost, then we demonstrate that we are truly his friends, and in the harshest of circumstances, we will abide in the love of Christ.

Prayer:

We know the price of loving may be high, O God, for we have the example of your Son before us. As we would be Christ's friends, open our eyes to those who need our love around us, open our minds to the ways in which we might share their burdens, and open our strength of will to meet and overcome the challenges before us. In the name of our greatest friend, Jesus, Amen.

Eric Anderson: "When Easter is Hardest, I Need it the Most"

Sun, 08 Apr 2012 13:37:45 -0500

A friend died on Friday.

Not the friend you're thinking of - he died on a Friday, too, a long time ago - but someone I've known for over twenty years. We did not meet in college (despite attending the same school), but we knew many of the same people, and it was only after college that we came to know each other much.

His name was Jerry. He was one of those marvelous bear-like men, big in stature with a big smile and a big laugh. Though his day job was at a desk, his passion was music and improvisational comedy. We shared a love of hot chili, good Scotch, and the music of Tom Lehrer. His kids are just a little older than mine, and his hectoring affection for them and for his wife, Risa, was a joy to see.

I hadn't seen Jerry in quite some time - too long, as it turns out. When he went into the hospital for surgery, I missed the word on it until I started seeing the notes that he had emerged well and was in recovery. They started talking about bringing him home.

And then, quite suddenly: complications, new issues, and then the saddest word. Jerry had died.

When I heard, my heart froze. I kept doing what I was doing, but my emotions shut down.

Good Friday was not an element in Jerry's spiritual life, but it is in mine. Earlier that day I sat in a noontime service and held him in prayer, knowing his condition was very serious indeed. I know many others did, too. And then he was gone.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

Saturday passed in a haze of memories, sadness, and simple shock. I confess I somewhat dreaded this morning, this Easter morning, because I did not know whether I could summon the day's joy. I sing in the church choir, so I had to be there, but it felt like the day, knowing Jerry had died, would feel hollow.

But it doesn't.

Don't get me wrong. Easter is not an emotional anesthetic that prevents me from feeling the pain of loss. Easter is the assertion of life's unquenchable spirit, and of the unquenchable Spirit which gives and renews life. I said in this week's ConferenceCast, 'The most astonishing claim of the Christian Church is that Jesus of Nazareth rose from the dead, and that his new life makes all the difference in the world.' It is a radical and oft-ridiculed claim, and as I heard and sang that claim once again this morning, I felt it restore my hope and confidence. Christ is risen; Jerry will rise.

Jerry, at this point, would no doubt be shaking his head or distracting me with a joke, because he saw no significance in (nor did he believe in) the resurrection of Jesus. He had his own sources for confidence and hope, and I pray that his bereft friends and family will find full solace in their own sources of confidence and hope.

For me, the absurd Christian Easter claim has claimed my heart, my soul, and my spirit once again, at exactly the right time. Sadness remains, and will linger for some time. The sadness stands upon a foundation of conviction, and is comforted by it. Tears linger on the rock of faith, until they slowly dry under the warm sun of time, and hope, and the knowledge of abiding love.

Farewell, Jerry, for now. I trust that we shall meet again, when God replaces hope and confidence with what our eyes shall see, face to face. Then we can laugh at the pretensions of death, and watch our tears dry in the warmth of love.

Karen Ziel: "In Partnership-February 8, 2012"

Thu, 05 Apr 2012 16:26:35 -0500

Dear Friends,

It will not be long until that great forty days of the season of preparation we know as Lent. The Lenten season asks particular intention of us. In a culture busy with the stuff of our daily lives, it invites us to pay particular attention to our innermost self through new or renewed disciplines or practices of faith. In the traditional pathway; prayer, penitence, self-denial, almsgiving and self-denial constitute the path. In this season of penitential preparation for each believer, we open to ourselves and to a loving God in new and important ways. This is a season for seeking to deepen our understanding of that which deepens our relationship to God, to know more fully what separates us from God and from one another in ways that enable us to mend or bridge those things that divide or distance.

Many of our congregants need an invitation to this season that speaks of its potential meaning and power for people of faith today. They need an invitation to a practice in this season and a reminder that this practice need not distract or detract from daily living, but practiced well, will most certainly enhance the stuff of our lives. A sincere effort to find the good in someone who rubs us the wrong way may start with us and not with him or her. An intention to name for our children more concretely and consistently the places or ways in which God is present in our day or in a shared moment could be an important discipline. Adopting or adapting the practice of St. Ignatius of Loyola (The Examen) and naming our consolations and desolations at the end of a day and giving them to God to sanctify on our behalf would enrich the Lenten journey.

In many ways, Lent is about wandering in the wilderness, but in many ways, it is about particular intention. Whether we choose to deny ourselves something that we enjoy as a reminder of Christ's sacrifice or whether we choose to wander the path with new eyes, we are called to a forty day discipline of engagement. Yet, as John Roberto reminds us in Faith Formation 2020, engagement takes new shapes and forms for the church of the 21st century.

Will you create a Facebook page for your church and post a series of Lenten invitations? Will you leave a brief, one sentence invitation on the outgoing message on your church line? Will you extend an invitation to practice as you begin the meetings and gatherings your church shares this Lenten season? Will you create a wall of prayer where particular prayers and intentions can be shared and displayed in new ways, or a 10 foot prayer chain that visits all the contexts of your congregation in this season and is brought forward during the time of pastoral prayer on Palm Sunday to adorn the chancel with your Lenten intentions only to become a broken chain on Easter Sunday? Will you create a Prayer Weaving (see the Beyond Banners link below) to hold your children's prayers?

So many wonderful ways to extend the invitation and enrich the season can be found in resources here at the Ruth Dudley Resource Center. So many wonderful ideas can be found at UCC.org, including information about FAITH PRACTICES, the whole church materials that are enriching the lives of many of our congregations. A free component of the material is yours for the asking.

Follow the links below to search our catalogue or to find out more about FAITH PRACTICES. For more information about the practice of The Examen for contemporary disciples and their families, why not borrow, SLEEPING WITH BREAD - Holding What Gives You Life by Sheila, Dennis and Matthew Linn. To find other good books for preparation and invitation, open our simple search window online and type the word Lent into the window. Once you have, click on all words or subject to find many good books and more!

Faith Practices-http://www.ucc.org/faith-practices/

Ruth Dudley Resource Center online catalogue search-http://www.ctucc.org/resources.php

Beyond Banners-the spiritual practice of art-https://www.facebook.com/pages/Beyond-Banners/247087645367872

I will pray for you this Lenten season as I hope you will pray for me and for the entire staff of the conference as we partner with you in your many ministries. May we recognize and celebrate together the ways, both subtle and profound, the Spirit moves among us changing the church of Jesus Christ for this age and for a new generation of believers.

Your faithful servant- IN PARTNERSHIP,
Karen

Karen Ziel: "In Partnership-April 5, 2012"

Thu, 05 Apr 2012 15:57:55 -0500

Dear Friends-
Holy Week blessings to you all. Whether you will be lifting a cup to celebrate Jesus Passover Meal with friends and followers or engaging all ages in a remembrance of the seven last words, this week offers many opportunities for personal reflection on the meaning of the passion and resurrection of Christ. I have found particular meaning this year in revisiting resources developed by the denomination over a decade ago. The Word and You edited by Nan Duerling, Vol. 3, United Church Press, 1999 and Imaging the Word, Arts and Lectionary Resource, Susan A. Blain editor, United Church Press Vol. 3 and Vol. 2.

Developed for the Word Among Us project, these timeless resources offer opportunities for sharing word and reflection organized by the RCL and produced by the United Church of Christ.

Here is a word for you this week as you prepare to serve and lead in your congregation.
God, food of the poor; Christ, our bread, give us a taste of the tender bread from the table of your creation; bread newly taken from your own heart oven, food that comforts and nourishes us. A warm loaf that makes us a family; sacrament of your body, your wounded people.

(Excerpted from a prayer shared by workers in community soup kitchens in Lima, Peru and reprinted in Vol. 3 of Imaging the Word.)

Below, you will find a sampling of resources new to the Ruth Dudley Resource Center and the Staff Library here at the Conference office. I hope you will stop by during the Great 50 Days of Easter and checkout something new, something timeless, something that came recommended or something completely unexpected! Stop by and learn more about Patron Appreciation and the Great 50 Days. We offer a no negative consequences lending policy and great flexibility in lending periods when necessary. However, during the Great 50 Days, we hope to retrieve all materials borrowed and not returned within the standard load period, or in the words of other libraries, overdue.

If you return an overdue resource, the director will celebrate by gifting you with a token of our appreciation! Of course, grace and forgiveness abound, so you need not be concerned. We will welcome back anything you have had good use of for any period of time. Look for our label on the front cover of forgotten things on your shelf or look for our identifying stamp on page 25 of any resource. We appreciate your patronage!

SAMPLING OF NEW ACQUISITIONS-
from the Great Omission to Vibrant Faith:The Role of the Home in Renewing the Church by David W. Anderson

Imaginative Prayer for Youth Ministry: A Guide to Transforming Your Students Spiritual Lives by Jeannie Oestreicher and Larry Warner

Christianity After Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a Spiritual Awakening by Diana Butler Bass

Knit One, Purl A Prayer: The Spirituality of Knitting by Peggy Rosenthal

These great resources and so many more fill our shelves. Why not stop by or call and let me assist you with the right resource for your need?
In partnership,
Karen Ziel
Minister for Christian Education and the Ruth Dudley Resource Center

Michael Ciba: "From the Belly"

Mon, 02 Apr 2012 10:33:15 -0500

Like most of you, I am sometimes asked, in the course of a workshop or other event, to name a favorite biblical character, or a biblical story that best describes my understanding of myself in ministry. My answer is always the same: Jonah.

Jonah is my favorite biblical character. I love Jonah because he tried to run away from God's call-but God found him anyway. I love Jonah because he was disappointed when things turned out the way that God wanted but didn't turn out the way Jonah wanted. I love Jonah because he got really upset over the death of his plant-something that affected his comfort-but failed to get upset about what really mattered.

I also love Jonah because he did, reluctantly, answer God's call and faithfully did what God asked. I love Jonah because he is willing to sacrifice himself to save his shipmates. But, most importantly, I love Jonah because God called him, used him, and reasoned with him in spite of his imperfections.

When some of Jesus' contemporaries ask him for a sign, he replies that '�no sign will be given except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the sea monster, so for three days and three nights the Son of Man will be in the heart of the earth.' [Matt. 12: 39-40]

I know that I'm more like Jonah than I am like Jesus. But even Jonah has a resurrection story-one that Jesus recognizes and honors. From the belly of the fish, Jonah acknowledges that when life threatened to overwhelm him, he called to God and God answered him. Jonah didn't drown in the sea. He went on to serve God grudgingly but faithfully.

If you feel like you're drowning this week, remember Jonah.

Eric Anderson: "Frightened Men"

Mon, 26 Mar 2012 23:17:33 -0500

Recordings and witness accounts establish that there were two scared men in Sanford, Florida, on the night of February 26th. Neighborhood watch member George Zimmerman spoke with a 911 dispatcher as he followed someone he thought was 'suspicious.' Trayvon Martin told his girlfriend on his cell phone about a man watching him. She told him to run; he said he'd 'walk fast.'

Two frightened men.

The facts of their encounter just moments later are not so clear, except for this: each man feared the other. Raised voices followed, and a single gunshot.

One frightened man remained.

What, I wonder, does Florida's 'Stand Your Ground' law make of two people, each persuaded he's threatened by the other? If Zimmerman had been the one to die, would Martin remain free? He was just as frightened for his life, and, apparently, with good reason...

Florida's law, I'm afraid, protects from judicial oversight the actions of people at their least rational, when the fight-or-flight response takes control. It encourages people to step beyond the place where they can truly choose their course to the place where considered options vanish. 'Stand your ground?' Yes, but leave your brain behind.

If you must leave your brain behind, it would be better, I think, to leave the gun behind, too.

Frightened men -- and frightened women, too -- do frightful things. They do them all the more easily when they have the tools of frightfulness to hand. It doesn't take much, of course. Hands will do. But oh, how much easier it is to pull that trigger, and...

There was another frightened man. We'll remember the story of his fright next Thursday, on the night of Shadows. He took his fright to God, and prayed with a fervor that may well have been matched that night in Florida by Trayvon and George. His prayers were answered with the appearance of police, who had come to carry him away to a show trial and an execution.

When they came, he stood his ground, in a sense. He did not flee when his friend -- now his betrayer -- stood forth and identified him to those sent to take him. He said, 'Do what you have come to do.'

Then another friend seized a weapon and struck at the soldiers. Jesus could have begun the war right there, the struggle of righteousness, the liberation of the nation. He did not. Instead, he commanded that they put the weapons away.

Put the weapons away.

I don't think we'll do away with fear. I wish we could. A hooded sweatshirt -- a dark complexion -- is no indicator of malice. But there are, and there will be, people whose fears will surface and overwhelm their minds for these reasons and for even less.

I don't think we'll do away with fear. I wish we could. A person walking behind in the night is no indicator of malice. But to far too many African-American youth, accustomed to being suspected of ill intent, that following figure threatens their dignity, their freedom, and even their life.

Sometimes there is substance to fear. Sometimes there is not.

Jesus, whose fears were both real and justified, took his burden to his God. The accounts of his prayers in the garden are not reassuring; they give little indication of comfort, reassurance, or even strength. Yet it seems to have been enough, for he faced what he feared with a calm that seems utterly foreign to the night in Sanford, and he did so with no weapon, ordering them away.

I don't think we'll do away with fear. I hope we can meet it with prayer. I hope we can meet it with thought. I hope we can meet it with calm, and with dignity, and with hope.

Most of all, I hope we can meet it without weapons.

Drew Page: "This Should Work!"

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 13:49:30 -0500

Over the weekend, I refereed a fencing match between two 12 year olds, a boy and a girl. It was the gold medal bout for the youth event at our club tournament. The girl, slightly older, more experienced, and far taller, had a commanding lead early in the bout. Yet, when her opponent changed his game, things went south for the statistical favorite. The young boy figured out what was working against him and changed. He quickly caught up, picking up his points as the girl continued to attack with the same technique that had earned her the lead. In the end, the underdog won. Adaptation had defeated the tried and true technique.

As her coach, I explained to the young girl how common this was, sharing several personal examples of pig-headed attempts to drive in that proverbial square peg. It's a phenomenon most competitive fencers have faced. We are taught the principal 'If a tactic works, keep doing it until it stops working.' Our problem is always that last part. When a tactic fails, somehow we just keep trying. In our minds we are convinced that this should work because it has before. We bear down, refocused and determined to execute the maneuver just a little better than the last time. When it fails again, we get more focused, more determined. Our competitive edge drives us with cries of 'This Should Work!' In a 15 point game, that is a fatal mistake.

This stubborn desire to stick to a failing strategy seems common today. We have seen it happen in businesses that don't change with the rapid evolution of technology: newspapers, video rental shops, books stores, and very nearly Apple. It happens in our government where we insist that we can keep doing things the way we always have if we simply raise taxes or cut services. We watch our environment change for the worse, driving to work in gas powered cars with disposable coffee cups in hand while blaming it on developing nations. Despite the lessons of history or scientific evidence, our society marches forward against an uncertain future, screaming 'This Should Work!'

This determination-turned-stubbornness is a path to extinction. The solution is creative thinking, a willingness to challenge convention, and open mindedness. I recently changed my eating habits with extraordinary results. I was not looking for a diet. I simply got into a discussion with a friend who made an argument against my point of view and offered compelling proof. Thankfully, I was open to the ideas, despite the fact that these theories tore down every notion of nutrition I've ever known. Now, I cannot turn back.

There is no status quo. We progress and survive, or we fail, screaming 'This Should Work!' I've tried that on the fencing strip, when it doesn't really matter. I mean to go forward when it does.

Michael Ciba: "No Words"

Sun, 26 Feb 2012 19:27:17 -0500

About ten years ago I attended a weeklong retreat sponsored by the Shalem Insititute in Washington, DC. This retreat was one component of a program in group spiritual direction that I was participating in.

The centerpiece of the retreat was a 24 hour period of silence. Participants would remain in the retreat center or on the grounds during the whole time, but would not speak with one another during the designated period of silence.

As the period of silence began, I wandered into the chapel of the retreat center. I picked up a copy of the bulletin that another group had used for worship and read this paraphrase of the first few verses of Psalm 19.

'As the sunrise and the sunset praise you in colors royal, day after day, and the night gives praise in glittering splendor, star by star. And the seas praise you, tumbling and spraying their white spume, fluent in calm and storm. And the land praises you, bursting into bloom with a rainbow of flowers and all manner of fruit. Yet they speak no words; THEIR BEING IS THEIR PRAISE.' [Capitals are mine. I have tried but cannot locate the author or source of this text. It was printed in the bulletin without attribution.]

At that moment, I remember feeling that these words were speaking directly to me, inviting me to consider what it meant for anyone or anything to praise God simply by being who we are and what we are. No words or speech were necessary. This was a perfect introduction to the time of silence.

Later that afternoon, I tried to take a nap. As I tried to fall asleep, I became increasingly aware of the noise outside the building. Some new houses were being built on land adjoining the retreat center. The construction equipment was loud, as were the workers who had to yell over the noise of the machinery.

At first I was irritated by the noise that seemed to interrupt the silence. Then I was amused at the irony. Finally, I realized that 'silence' meant something different than 'quiet.'

I realized that the gift of silence was not about quiet from the noise of the world. Rather, the time of silence gave me a break from the responsibility of speaking with others and listening to them.

Not forever. I would resume speaking and listening to others when the time came. But the time of silence would provide an opening for me to focus on things that I had been neglecting because of the sometimes overwhelming responsibility to communicate with others.

My great discovery during that time of silence was that, at that time in my life, I had stopped talking with God. The previous six months had been stressful and painful for me both because of work and life. During that time of busyness, I had simply stopped talking with God. So I spent the remainder of that afternoon and evening, and the following morning, talking to God. It was a rather one sided conversation, since, after six months, I had a lot to say.

I learned from that experience that it was important to keep open the lines of communication between God and me. And, yes, I believe I do as much listening as speaking these days when I talk with God. But that period of intentional silence gave me the opportunity to discover what was missing from my life in that time. And subsequent periods of intentional silence have helped me to keep perspective.

Lent is a season when we encourage one another to focus intentionally on strengthening our individual and communal relationships with God by setting aside time for prayer, reflection, and meditation. We are called to stop doing some things that interfere with our relationship with God and to start doing other things that can strengthen it.

For who serve and lead in the church, Lent can also be a season of incredibly frantic busyness-the opposite of what we hope for others and ourselves. Some of this busyness cannot be avoided. What is most important is that we not let ourselves be consumed by it.

I encourage you to do what you need to do in this season of Lent to deepen your own relationship with God. And I encourage you to try intentional silence as one way to do this. You may need the support of a spiritual director who will walk with you on this journey. You may need to find a place apart from ordinary life in order for this to be meaningful. And it may not work for you.

But it may be just the thing.

May God bless you and all those who are touched by your ministry during this season of Lent.