Sneaking Jesus...

Confession time. I’ve been sneaking BB tiny pieces of my communion bread for about nine months.

I'm quite the rebel, aren’t I?

I don’t know why this is considered rebellious behavior, but it feels like it is where we worship. In my pastoral roles it has been the ‘norm’ to offer the meal of grace to all the baptized. It was up to the parents as to whether their child took communion, and as it turned out most kids over the age of three held out their hands for the bread on Sunday mornings. In third grade everyone went through a (First) Communion class and we went deeper into the meaning and history of the sacrament.

The argument against inviting children to communion never holds up for me. “We’ve never done it that way before.” “I didn’t get communion until I was Confirmed.” "They haven't been through a class." “They aren’t old enough to know what is happening/understand/hold it sacred enough…”

I’m not out to make a huge scene or completely stomp on other people’s communion piety. I’m not advocating mashing up bread and juice for infants. I wouldn’t give it to Henry if he was in a rotten mood and prone to throw it on to the ground. Parents need to teach what communion is, model its importance and know their child.

But I happen to believe that God meant the sacrament to be for all the baptized. If we are going to baptize them, we should offer them food for their faith journey.

This week BB added “church” to his list of pretend play. We has been cooking, building fire trucks and playing baseball for quite awhile, but this week he began processing around the living room with paper towel rolls and calling it a cross. He has started to shake our hands and offer the greeting, "Peace, Mommy." "Peace, Daddy." "Peace, Enemy." And yesterday out of the blue he came over to me, reached up to my mouth with two pinched fingers and said, “bdyftrist.” I didn’t get it at first and as I racked my brain trying to decipher “Henry speak” it hit me… “Body of Christ.” Nothing like reducing your mom to tears as she catches up on the mail.

Tonight, as I was trying to make dinner, and feed EG all the while trying to keep BB from “vacuuming” up his sister with his pretend vacuum for the 11th time, my voice got a little loud as I ordered him out of the kitchen. He went to his play-kitchen, fiddled with some cereal boxes and came back to me with his little pinched fingers reaching up to me, “bdyfrist, Mommy.”

Of course you know I want to make the case that this has some large theological meaning--that BB was offering me forgiveness and mercy in my weak moment. Perhaps, even reminding me of God's ultimate grace and mercy. Relax, it may have been a sign of grace but I also know that he could have offered me pretend pancakes just as easily. What all of this new 'play' does show me is that somehow his faith life is developing. He is beginning to understand that what happens at the altar is important. That he is a part of it. That it, is life changing.

That whatever 'it' is, it might help you out when you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble. "bdyfrist" for Mother and Son.

Just Getting Around to Lent

Some of you who read this blog, also read Bread and Wine as a Lenten Devotional. Here is a link to discussion on the book.

I highlighted this quote as well...

"Truth to Tell" -- Barbara Brown Taylor

This essay is full of quotable quotes, the kind that cause you to wince. Here's one:

A cross and nails are not always necessary. There are a thousand ways to kill him, some of them as obvious as choosing where you will stand when the showdown between the weak and the strong comes along, others of them as subtle as keeping your mouth shut when someone asks you if you know him.

You Don't Just Leave...

As the brouhaha over Sen. Obama's pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, and the Democratic race continues on...I wish I was around people who could talk in complete sentences but alas, that is not my current audience. So I share some thoughts here, with...hum, myself.

I find it to be so telling of our society that the media (and Sen. Clinton) felt the only option Sen. Obama had was to leave the church. As if congregational life was all about the pastor. As if church was a movie that we get up from and leave in the middle of if the tone and message doesn't suit us. In most of the congregations that I have been apart of, the members hang in there, sometimes in spite of the pastor, knowing that the priesthood is much larger than just the pastor. Hop over to Trinity United Church of Christ and you'll see a whole lot of reasons why one might be a member there. You'll also note that at TUCC there are many more pastors to guide one on their spiritual journey besides Rev. Wright.

Take note of these comments as well:
Rev. Martin Marty says this about Rev. Wright.
And Mary Hess has a number of other very interesting links--scroll down a few entries.

As an aside, I sat next to Rev. Wright during the taping of Sen. Obama's first visit to the Oprah show. I wouldn't jump right to "warm and pastoral" in describing him. But hey, I was just the wide eyed kid in a pink jacket asking about 'hope' in her first television appearance.

How's Big Boy?

People are constantly asking "How's Big Boy?"
You tell me...
*He's spent some time hurling his Fisher Price people around the room. I felt sure he was aiming at me specifically.
*He stutters "No, no, no, no" before most sentences...whether it ends up he means 'no' or not.
*He wants to feed his bear via his belly button.
*He is also very bossy about which shoulder Chad should put the burp cloth on when holding Emily. (It is the right side, just so you don't make the same mistake.)
*His timeouts are getting pretty frequent as we work on 'no throwing" and "no hitting." Lucky for him, he has a mother who understands what it feels like to have so much pent up emotion you just HAVE to hit, throw, yell or bite. :) (We get over it. Eventually.)
*He is very quick to get the Boppy when I sit down to feed Emily.
*He pronounces her name as "Enemy." (Or Enema.)
*He nods when people ask if he likes his baby sister. (Why do people ask a two year old this? What's he going to say? And what are they going to say should he say, "No. She's ruined my life.)
*He delights in giving her kisses. Good 'delights' and two-year old rascal 'delights.'

Lent 2008...Just Giving up.

Lent Five Years Ago:
I took up daily trips to the gym and gave up lunch on Wednesdays. (I don't know why, I just did.)

I spent weeks before Ash Wednesday planning mid-week Lenten services.

Created altar cloth and other 'arty' projects with youth from our congregation.

Worshiped each Wednesday, spent the week studying Biblical texts and reading devotional material.

Holy Week was just that--Holy. Each day was rich in meaning and I took time to pray and reflect.

Spent Holy Saturday night in nervous anticipation for Easter and the celebration awaiting us.
Easter was alive and wonderful--new life seemed possible.

Beyond all my church activities, my house also reflected Lent and the Easter season. I took down many decorations and set out simple meditative displays for Lent. For Easter, I set up some bunny paraphernalia, but also signs of 'new life' and bright baptismal themes were scattered around.

Lent and Easter Now:
First of all, tomorrow is EASTER? Huh??

Lenten services attended: ZERO

Lenten devotionals read: One...but I only read the authors I knew and loved. I read 5 chapters in one sitting and then let it lie next to my bed for the next five weeks.

I gave up nothing and made no move to "take up" anything either.

Maundy Thursday passed me right by, I remembered it actually happened by a reference to it during the Good Friday service.

On Good Friday I did take the kids to an event at church. I spent the time in holy reflection of how loud my two week old is when she eats and self flagellation over how incapable I was of watching my 2 year old. I did give sincere thanks for the body of Christ that took care of Henry during the event.

I also spent Good Friday at the mall, with a disturbing number of other people I might add...
I could justify my presence by attempting to explain why I like Carter's onesies (sold at department stores) better than the ones at they have at Target, but I won't go there. I SPENT GOOD FRIDAY AT A MALL people..."Father forgive them for they know not what they do" comes to mind.

Holy Saturday was spent making up a grocery list for Chad, wondering just when time nap-time could humanely start and reflecting on how the "honeymoon" phase of life with two kids might be nearing an end.

Tomorrow we will attend church, eat a ham and hopefully say a prayer of thanks for God's gift of new life. The house isn't decorated. I have nothing to wear to church. I've done nothing to explain the significance of the day to my son. My heart is no where near prepared for the mystery and gift of Easter, but never has there been a year where I give greater thanks for a God who knew my heart would never be ready for such a gift and gave Himself for that very reason. Perhaps the main point of the season hasn't completely escaped me.
He is Risen!
He is Risen, Indeed!! Amen.