Five Minute Friday: CHURCH

Today I'm linking up with the Five Minute Friday community, writing for five minutes on a given prompt.

This week's word: CHURCH.

 

photo Jeannie Prinsen 2017

In the spring of 2017 my daughter and I took the train from our home in Kingston, Ontario to Moncton, New Brunswick and then went on to PEI.

Our return train trip began on a beautiful Sunday evening, and as we rolled along south of Miramichi, New Brunswick, I saw this church. I only had a couple of seconds to grab my phone and try to photograph it through the train window. Somehow I managed to capture it.

I don't know the name or denomination of this church.* It appears to be in the middle of nowhere, though that might not be true at all; maybe it's right beside a busy, bustling road. But that's how it looks to me: secluded from the world. The church spire and the trees and bushes are all bathed in light, reaching toward the sky. It's as if humans and nature are all worshipping God in this out-of-the-way place. Even if the rest of the world doesn't see, God does.

That church is probably empty this weekend. Ours will be. So will thousands of churches worldwide, because of the pandemic. But that doesn't mean there is no worship happening. Chris Rice's song "And Your Praise Goes On" says,

Now rise up everything that lives:
flap your wings and leap for joy.
Forest, lift your arms and sway;
clap your hands, you ocean waves.

And Your praise goes on, rising to Your throne
where You bless our toil and play.
Through the clouds they rise; Your praises fill the skies
till the setting of the sun –
And Your praise goes on.

 Even if we can't be in church, we can join the trees and ocean waves as they praise the God who made them and sees them.

 

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 * Update: A Twitter friend read this post, did some snooping (i.e. Googling), and determined that this is The Most Pure Heart of Mary Roman Catholic Church in Barnaby River, New Brunswick. Thanks, H.!

 

June 2014 "Twitterature"

Today I'm linking up with Modern Mrs. Darcy's monthly "Twitterature" post, in which we all share short(ish) reviews of what we've been reading.

  In the past month I've read three excellent books:

 

A Year of Biblical Womanhood by Rachel Held Evans.  Held Evans spent a year trying to take the Bible's commands about women as literally as she could, with funny and fascinating results.  Ever the overachiever, she engaged in numerous projects:  from sleeping outside during her period, to keeping silent in church, praising her husband in the city gates like the Proverbs 31 woman, dressing modestly, holding a ceremony to honour forgotten women of Scripture, interviewing a polygamous family, and much more.  Her conclusion that there's no single right way to be a "Biblical woman" doesn't have an "Aha, I knew it wouldn't work!" tone; rather, she finishes her experiment with a greater and humbler appreciation for her own faith, for her marriage, for other Christian women of all kinds, and for the freedom offered by the gospel.  A hilarious, informative, moving book (with pictures!) that isn't just for women.

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Found by Micha Boyett.  I started reading Micha Boyett's former blog, Mama:Monk, a few years ago and loved how she blended life as a mom of two sons with reflections on prayer and spiritual disciplines.  Found explores how she struggled with whether she was doing enough for God as a mother, and how she came to terms with her calling and discovered joy -- hers, and God's -- in her here-and-now life.  The book is structured according to the divine hours, beginning with Vigils: Midnight and ending with Compline: Night Prayers. This structure helps emphasize that the insights she gains are not once-and-for-all achievements but part of a daily, constant exercise of faith.  Great book for anyone who's ever wondered if their ordinary life matters.

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This is the Story of a Happy Marriage by Ann Patchett.  This book of essays deals with a wide range of subjects:  Patchett's childhood as a daughter of divorced parents, her own early marriage and divorce, her second marriage (the "happy" one of the title), her writing habits and assignments, her beloved dog Rose, and other things.  The only previous books I'd read of hers were Truth and Beauty (about her friendship with writer Lucy Grealy) and her novel Bel Canto, so it was interesting to find out more about Patchett the person and the writer; but this book is well worth reading even if you haven't read any of her other work.

Monday morsel: "still our refuge"

Today's "Monday Morsel" is over 150 years old.  This beautiful old hymn came to my mind last Thursday morning when I was at our women's group meeting at church.  Seven of us sat in a circle, pouring out our hearts to God.  We had some tough things to pray about, yet there was this overwhelming feeling of joy and privilege in knowing that God was right there with us -- that all of our concerns and anxieties were safe in His loving hands.

I went to that trusted source, Wikipedia, to find out more about this hymn, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus."  Joseph Scriven wrote the words as a poem in 1855, to comfort his mother who was living in Ireland while he was in Canada.  Interestingly, one hymn scholar has commented that although the hymn "has been criticized as being too much on the order of the sentimental gospel type," it remains popular.  I'm not surprised.  I wonder if there is anyone who can confidently say, "Well, I've never had griefs or troubles; I've never felt weak or burdened; I've never felt forsaken by someone I loved; I can't really relate."  Maybe it's because all of us have experienced these feelings -- and Jesus did too -- that this song speaks so directly to the heart.

I hope these words are as encouraging to you today as they have been to me this past week.

What a Friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit, O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.

Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged; take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness; take it to the Lord in prayer.

Are we weak and heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge, take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do your friends despise, forsake you? Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In His arms He’ll take and shield you; you will find a solace there.

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Monday morsel: "something better, something beautiful, something more" (from Julie Andrews)

I've been reading Home:  A Memoir of My Early Years by Julie Andrews.  It's a very interesting book detailing her difficult childhood and her introduction into the world of music and theatre.  In this section of the book, Julie is a teenager and has just heard from her mother some unsettling news about her family's past.

Not long after the revelation from my mother, I was gazing out of my bedroom window one day, feeling a little sorry for myself.  I stared at the garden, watching the birds swoop down and around the rosebushes....It mattered deeply to me that [the garden] not sink back into disarray, but it had.  The tennis court was overgrown, the roses had become wild, the gladioli were spindly, and everything was generally a mess.  It seemed symbolic of the condition of our family.

It was a hot summer afternoon, still and perfect.  It began to rain, lightly at first, but soon becoming fat, heavy drops.  I thought, " Someone send me a sign that there is something better in the world, something beautiful and worthwhile, something more to life than this."

I was gazing at a particularly large, full-blown rose, when all of a sudden one extra raindrop was just too much for it.  All its petals cascaded to the ground at once.  It was startling, and oddly comforting.

I subsequently wrote a poem about it:

A rose lay open in full bloom

and, looking from my garden room,

I watched the sun-baked flower fill with rain.

It seemed so fragile, resting there,

and such a silence filled the air,

the beauty of the moment caused me pain.

"What more?"  I thought.  "There must be more."

As if in answer then, I saw

one weighty drop that caused my rose to fall.

It trembled, then cascaded down

to earth just staining gentle brown

and, since then, I've felt different.

That's all.

- Julie Andrews, Home

Monday morsel: "wave after wave"

Yesterday at church our Family Ministries Director spoke about Mary, the mother of Jesus and how she experienced a "divine interruption."  Afterward I was reading the story of Mary in the Message translation, particularly focusing on Mary's song:  "The Magnificat."  So I thought I'd share that today.

I’m bursting with God-news;
    I’m dancing the song of my Savior God.
God took one good look at me, and look what happened—
    I’m the most fortunate woman on earth!
What God has done for me will never be forgotten,
    the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others.
His mercy flows in wave after wave
    on those who are in awe before him.
He bared his arm and showed his strength,
    scattered the bluffing braggarts.
He knocked tyrants off their high horses,
    pulled victims out of the mud.
The starving poor sat down to a banquet;
    the callous rich were left out in the cold.
He embraced his chosen child, Israel;
    he remembered and piled on the mercies, piled them high.
It’s exactly what he promised,
    beginning with Abraham and right up to now.

 - Luke 1:46-55, The Message

"God's more-than-enough"

Why is everyone hungry for more? 

“More, more,” they say.
“More, more.”
I have God’s more-than-enough,
More joy in one ordinary day

Than they get in all their shopping sprees.
At day’s end I’m ready for sound sleep,
For you, God, have put my life back together.

Psalm 4:6-7 (The Message)

  (Jonathan waits for the garbage truck - photo Jeannie Prinsen Nov. 2013)

I took this picture last Wednesday, when Jonathan rushed to the window to watch for the garbage and recycling trucks:  the high point of his week, as I mentioned here.

As I looked at the photo of a captured instant in time -- Jonathan's face illuminated by the morning sun and reflected in the window pane -- it struck me that life is really not all that complicated.  It is made up of a whole series of moments where we can choose either to accept the joy of "more-than-enough" or to grasp for more stuff, more pleasure, more achievement.  And the ability to go to sleep with a sense of contentment is something that can't be bought with money or willed into existence; it comes from knowing we're safe in God's hands no matter what today or tomorrow may bring.  As a boy who still, at age eleven, goes promptly and eagerly to bed at 7 p.m., Jonathan seems to have discovered that secret.  So when garbage day rolls around -- kind of like Christmas morning except it happens 52 times a year -- that same joy in the "ordinary day" will be his to experience all over again.

And I'll try to take a moment to recognize and experience my own joy, in whatever form it may take today.