Cooking with Door-to-Door Organics

For months now, I’ve been clicking and poking around the internet in search of some form of Community Supported Agriculture that might carry us through our one and only winter in Kansas. I’ve tried every thing but found nothing until the week after I finally resigned myself to ordering Door to Door Organics. Only then, in the first few days after I got to Kansas, did I find out in a Facebook group that there is something. Here it is.

fullsizerender-2I had however already signed us up for this other service. And I’m not a quitter so we are sticking with it. Here we are on week three already.

And it’s OK. I don’t hate it but I don’t love it either. Here is my short list of blessings and woes.

  1. It is organic. It boasts this proudly and all of the veggies and other products they sell seem to meet this very complicated standard. This is a blessing.
  2. The good people at Door to Door Organics encourage you to plan and allow you to add and subtract all of the things form the cart that you might possibly want. For someone like me — or maybe someone like you who plans everything to the last detail — this is amazing. A few days before the box arrives on my doorstep, I get an email telling me what will be in the box and I can make any changes I want until 10:00 pm the night before. This is a blessing.
  3. They hint that they will use local farmers to the best of their ability. They do not. It is not local. I get that bananas and tomatoes aren’t growing even in hot houses at this time of year but then give me the stuff that is actually in season.  Make that available. (My husband wanted the fruit. I ddi not win that one.) Give me all of the root vegetables! They have those but they are not from local farms and I am utterly confused. It messes with my stewardship practices and make me really unhappy. Woe, woe to the false advertising.

The box arrives again on Tuesday so here’s a menu plan that caters to our box. You’ll notice that I have a few favorite blogs. That much wasn’t changed though I am cooking a bit more from my cookbooks this week now hat they are finally unpacked.

There is something I’m thinking about though.

I’m thinking aoubt starting a newsletter called News From My Kitchen. I started to design it and everything. I’m imagining it to be an occasional potluck of recipes, writings and whatever else I might be cooking up at the moment. I hope I’m not over using this whole new last name before we’ve even hit our six month anniversary. Sometimes I think it’s too cute. Other times I think I’m hysterical. Really, it depends upon how much coffee I’ve had. No matter, would you be interested? Would you sign up? Let me know. In the meantime, here are some recipes for the week.

SuperSale

Sunday I am going to spend the day in the kitchen making my favorite chili and cornbread.  I suspect that I’ll also be making a few other things while I’m in the kitchen.

Monday There’s going to be a lot of meat in our menu this week. This is not common for us. We tend to eat mostly vegetarian at home so today feels like a good day to join in on the fun of meatless monday. We’ll be doing that by dishing up Toasted Farro with Pear, Hazelnuts and Arugula from Feasting at Home while we hand out candy to the trick or treaters.

Tuesday There are no apples in our box this week but we have so many from weeks prior that I’ll be happy to use them in the Broad Fork’s Pan-Roasted Pork Tenderloin with Sorghum and Roasted Apples. There will be a side of roasted broccoli with this one.

Wednesday The temps are not supposed to dip even a little bit this week but I’m going to pretend that it’s fall (er, winter) and cook up some Winter Squash Curry.

Thursday We will need another salad so it’ll have to be Roasted Sweet Potato and Farro Salad by Cookie + Kate.

Friday When I arrived in Leavenworth, the freezer was stocked with pulled pork from a local church fundraiser. It seems that Nigel got cajoled in supporting a friend’s church and ended up with all of this pork. He called in dismay when it happened but ultimately decided to freeze it. Now, we have to use it. Oh so sad! I’ll be creating my own Pulled Pork BBQ Pizza and maybe even will post a recipe for it here. Maybe.

There is certainly more in the box that will need to get used but that’s what I’ve cooked up so far. I hope it’s a good week with our Door to Door Organics box.

Menu planning is a very occasional feature of my blog. I do more cooking in the ministry I offer in Ingredients for Worship and cooking up new and exciting Recipes for Ministry. (Or at least, I hope they are new and exciting recipes.) I love to cook both in the kitchen and swap recipes for all sorts of things. So, what are you cooking this week? What’s on your menu?

Solitude on the Road

“Our language has wisely sensed the two sides of being alone. It has created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word solitude to express the glory of being alone. “  — Paul Tillich

While my husband is in his classes, learning the next echelon of leadership within the military, I am been alone. I am reading and writing and trying not to feel the pain of this loneliness, but Tillich’s wisdom rings all to true. I find myself in this new and place where nothing is familiar. The landscape is different. The climate is strange and I find myself in this new community in which I feel like a stranger. Or as Stanley Hauerwas might say, I am a resident alien.

I am not on the move. I am here in this place.

When only ten days ago, there was a different kind of solitude that marked my days. For just four days, between Pennsylvania and Kansas, I found myself in solitude on the road — and it was glorious. Just me and my little Prius on the road. My parents (among others) had expressed concern about this plan. They were not sure it was wise for a young woman to travel alone. They feared I might be lonely.

I assured them that I would be stopping to spend nights with dear friends. I would extend my trip to make time for these visits with these dear friends. I would not be totally alone. I wasn’t. I got to eat and walk and talk with these dear friends after hours on the road all by myself. Theses a good thing. It was reassuring for my parents to hear because loneliness is a bad thing. This fact even made the news last week. 72% of people in the United States of America feel isolated. The facts and figures of this study are suspiciously absent from the reports that I’ve found, but the word isolation is not. It is repeated in every article. we are isolated from ourselves and each other. This is what defines our loneliness.

It is not news, however. It is a conclusion that was drawn way back when in 2012 when this article appeared in The Atlantic concluding:

Solitude used to be good for self-reflection and self-reinvention. But now we are left thinking about who we are all the time, without ever really thinking about who we are. Facebook denies us a pleasure whose profundity we had underestimated: the chance to forget about ourselves for a while, the chance to disconnect.

Isolation  or even disconnection is not what I feel on the road. Behind the wheel, careening down the highway, belting out Dixie Chicks lyrics, I don’t feel disconnected from my community or my neighbor, but quite the opposite. I feel connected. I feel like the world is so big and beautiful and there is so much possibility. With every song that comes on the radio, I am flooded with memories of people and places that I have loved. I can’t help but giggle at the wonder of it all.

When my throat has gone hoarse and there is nothing but static on the radio, I roll down the windows and open my heart to pray. Jesus makes a big to do about going to find a quiet place to pray. Or at least, that’s how we think about it. We are the ones that are struggle with the silence and perhaps even the isolation, not Jesus. There is no struggle in him. No fanfare as he withdraws to a deserted place to pray (Luke 5:16, NRSV). He is not isolated, though he may be alone. He does this several more times before he tells anyone how they ought to pray. That’s when he tells them not to forget about themselves. This isn’t a chance to zone out but a chance to see yourself as a part of God’s transformative power.

Like me, I imagine that Jesus needs a little space for this. This is no small potatoes, after all. He needs that time away to sort though all of the thoughts in his head, to be grateful and even to wonder about what might be ahead if he can ever be part of God’s transformation. Even if he doesn’t need that space, I do. Jesus might know his place but I have some questions. So I’ll take the empty road snaking through at the mountains or the deserted road that cuts through a town with empty store fronts to reconnect with God.

There is glory in this. Tillich is right. In this world, where there always seems to be someone grabbing for our attention — something that is apparently being called an attention economy — there is a certain graciousness to allowing ourselves  be alone with our own thoughts and questions. It can be overwhelming, as it feels now that I am settled in one place with too much time to think and ponder by myself. It can surely be painful but there is a certain glory in it — a glory I struggle to name but one I have seen on the road.

Half-Baked Ideas for All Saints Day

On Sunday, I went to church.

I sat in the pews to worship. But, before worship even began, there was a wave of sadness that fell over that gathering of God’s people.

There were words of thanks offered, gratitude for the hospitality that had been offered earlier in the week in the midst of two funerals. The names of the deceased were mentioned but they were not names that I knew. As a first time visitor in worship, I could only feel the sadness that was left after these two saints have died.

It’s not just something that is felt in this one church I found myself on Sunday morning but something all too familiar. We are not sure what the future of the church might look like. We are trying to imagine it and prepare for it but our saints are dying. The people that gave their hearts and souls to the work of the gospel, the very people we all hope we’ll one day be like and the people that made the church what it is today are dying. We’re going to their funerals. We’re saying prayers over their bodies and what remains is this overwhelming sadness because it’s not just that one life, but the many. So many of our saints are dying. It seems to be happening all at once. Maybe it is always this way. Maybe it feels like this for every generation and it is just the way of things that we wonder how we might match their goodness. It may be normal to look around the sanctuary and wonder who will be the next Lee or the next Janet or who will always be there with a joke like Gordon always was. Maybe it never feels like there are enough new people wandering in through those doors and we never quite feel like we could be the ones to follow in the footsteps of those saints. We are instead always looking for someone else.

I don’t know but it sure feels to me like we are burying some amazing people. It feels like there is so much death of so many great people. So much so that I had to unsubscribe from my former church’s weekly email because the prayer list was just too much to bear. It’s that familiar feeling that I felt as worship began on Sunday. It hovered over us through the entire time we attempted to lift our praise. If this is something we are all feeling, in churches all over the place, how do we honor that sense of loss? How do we make a space for it? What might be different about this All Saints Day?

It is no secret that this is one of my favorite observances in the church year. There are lots of wonderful moments of worship that use candles and ribbons and bells to remind us of these beloved people. There was a time when those bells were ringing to remind the living of the dead. It is not lack of memory that plagues us but how we might make sense of so much death in our time. Count those in your own congregation who have died. List the names of those that died in combat in a war most of our country doesn’t believe we are fighting or list every name that has died just this year because we refuse to believe that black lives matter. There are so many names that we could say. This year, let’s actually say the names.

I don’t have a full liturgy to offer you this week but two ideas to inspire your worship planning.

  • Say their names. It is a hashtag that is trending on Twitter. As violence and brutality increase, there is a cry that is being heard on social media to #saytheirnames. There is power in naming. We know this as we name and pray for people each time we worship. They stay on our prayer lists for a week or two until they disappear from our memories. We are too distracted or perhaps we’re just too upset to stick with the pain for too long. For All Saints Day, meet with the deacons or the worship committee and together make a list of names to be read during worship. You might go back over the prayer list and remember every saint who has died or other names that really need to be said. There has been a lot of death in the past year. Do not shy away from a long list. Decide how the names will be read and who will read which names. You might choose to ring a bell after the reading of each name, as is the ancient practice, or you might choose a piece of music to play softly under the reading of the names.
  • Write letters to the saints. I know that there are assigned readings for this particular feast day that don’t actually coincide with Proper 26 or Proper 27, but I really like the opening words to the church in Thessalonika from Proper 26. It reminds me of the letters I often write to my mom so that I wonder what would happen if we gave space for our church people to write to the saints of the church. Imagine that salutations and thanksgivings they would write to those they had admired and then what would be said next? What would they want to say about their church or their own discipleship to this saint now? It could be good sermon fodder but I’d want to find a way to have everyone write letters perhaps in place of the Prayers of the People. Maybe we’d find some way to send them. Fire? Big post box on cotton balls? I’m not sure… What do you think?

These are just ingredients that need a little more time in the kitchen. Good liturgy is the work of the people and every idea needs to have a little time to cook within a community. I would love to hear what might happen with these half-baked ideas within your church family. Please let me know and maybe I’ll even see you for more Ingredients for Worship next Tuesday!

 

My Sexual Assault is More Than Locker Room Banter

sexualassault-300x200Trigger Warning: The content of this post may be triggering for people who have experienced sexual assault.

I was in college. I was drunker than I should have been—much drunker—and I was flirting with a boy. We kissed sloppily. One thing led to another and I left the bar with him. We went back to his place where he pinned me down to the bed and I said, “No.”

Read the whole post on New Sacred.

Prayer for the Election Season

Like so many others, I watched the Presidential Debate on Sunday night. I gritted my teeth and joined others in lamentation and dismay on Twitter. When the debate was nearly over, one of my friends confessed via group text that she’d drunk way more wine that she intended while watching these two presidential hopefuls on her computer screen.

There were words of affirmation and support from the other pastors in that text. Each of them sharing in the unique struggle of being a pastor in the middle of this particular election. Maybe it’s always this bad. Maybe this year is especially horrible. Maybe it always feels this charged. I’m never quite sure but unlike my sisters in Christ, I am not pastoring right now. I am without a church to lead for this season.

I am not spending as much time worrying about how to preach on Sunday or how to heal the divides between those that don’t share the same political perspective. (Instead, I’m hiding out on a military post and wondering what it means to be a military spouse in this middle of all of this election nonsense.) My thoughts aren’t so much on how to lead the church through this quagmire but how to orient my own heart and mind. Perhaps these are not different things after all.

A colleague directed me to read the Epistle Lesson for this coming Sunday. She read it preparing for worship and felt it to be the very words that she needed to hear from God. I have to say that I concur. I’ve adapted the words from the New Revised Standard Version to read more like a prayer than an exhortation from Paul (or someone who wants to be Paul). I intend to use it in my personal devotion but it might be used each week in worship leading up to Election Day in place of a prayer of confession.

I confess that I’m writing this prayer just after finishing reading this week’s chapter in Drew G.I. Hart’s Trouble I’ve Seen as part of the RevGal’s Anti-Racism Project. So the language might sound a bit like the chapter I’ve just read. Even as a personal prayer, the language is plural. It’s not just my personal transformation that matters, but how I am transformed to love and share in this life with others.

Prayer Before Election Day 2016
Inspired by 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5

O God, help us to remember how you called us out
and gathered us from the margins to be your church.
Every good word you have spoken across the generations
reminds us of this radical reorientation you made in our world.
Teach us again. Correct us and train us in your righteousness,
so that every one of us might be so well equipped in your love that we do not seek to dominate and conquer but to be changed by your message for this world.
Help us to continue.

Remind us that to fight the good fight and carry out our ministry fully
is to remember that good news can be found in hardship
and that there is salvation that can change our whole world in Jesus Christ.
Let us not die, but let us live in your hope, O God.
Help us to continue.

For the time is coming when people will not put up with sound doctrine,
but having itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves
teachers to suit their own desires, and will turn away
from listening to the truth and wander away to myths.
Let it be Christ who judges, not us.
Convince us, rebuke us, and encourage us,
with the utmost patience in your teaching.
Help us to continue.

Do not let us forget what we have learned and firmly believed in every good word you have spoken. Let it be that radical change toward the kingdom that helps us to decide how what we will preach and what we will teach. Help us to continue in the radical way of your hope and your love, especially in this unfavorable time, O God.

Check back for more Ingredients for Worship next Tuesday and don’t forget to share what you’ve cooked up in the comments below!

Prayer for National Coming Out Day

I have failed the past few weeks. Did you notice? There were no new ingredients for worship the past two weeks. Or was it three? I’m not sure I have an excuse. I could give you one but I’m not sure that any explanation will make a difference.

Today I am in the middle of driving across the country to the middle of America so it may seem weird that I’ve decided to post something. But, there is so much that feels broken. There is so much hate speech and so much anger. I don’t feel like my words can respond to any of it but I want to try. I want to do something to speak that love is greater than hate. Or Trump. Take your pick.

Tuesday October 11 is National Coming Out Day. It is a day to embrace who we are without hiding. It’s a day to celebrate who God created us to be, except it’s not a day for me. I may be an ally but I also come from a tradition where we love n inclusivity so much that we don’t ever want to leave anyone out. As the Black Lives Movement continues to teach us, the generalizations are killing people. So let’s get specific. Let’s talk about the particular challenges of being gay even after marriage equality has become the law of the land. Let’s celebrate that it’s still a brave act to come out and let us be so bold as to give a space for those that need to hear that they are fearfully and wonderfully made by our God.

There are some wonderful prayer resources out there to celebrate this particular day within the context of worship. There is this whole liturgy from the United Church of Christ. It will, however, take you off lectionary but the prayers could surely be tweaked. in years past, I have loved this prayer from Coming Out Young and Faithful. I offer it to you giving full credit to the authors.

Prayer for Coming Out

Creator God,
I am learning things all the time.
It is a gift to be young and to get to know you
and our world, your beautiful creation.
I am getting to know myself, and I’m discovering that sometimes I am
attracted to members of my gender – other girls (or boys).
Sometimes the things I feel are strong and deep.
Sometimes it even feels like love.
Sometimes I feel scared of these feelings.
Sometimes I feel wonderful about them.
I know that I am your creation,
and you have given me a wonderful gift in my orientation.
I pray for your supporting presence
as I become more comfortable with my feelings.
I pray for your guidance,
That I may know when it is the right time for me
to let other people know about this part of me.
I pray for your supporting presence
if I should be rejected, knowing that you,
God who created me,
will not reject me,
that you will affirm me
as part of your beautiful creation.
In you I trust.
Amen.

Check back for more Ingredients for Worship next Tuesday (God willing) and don’t forget to share what you’ve cooked up in the comments below! I’d love to heard how you’re celebrating this day.

Leaving the East Coast

Today I said goodbye to the Atlantic Ocean. I dip my toes in the cold water on this dreary day and hoped that I might get to come back soon.

It was only last year that we moved to the East Coast. It was a return for me and Nigel knew it. He knew how much I wanted to come back home so that when he was given moving orders he figured out how he could get me home. We weren’t married yet and it would be ages before he proposed but he wanted me move with him. He was determined, so determined that he was going to make sure that I would go.

Dipping my toes in the surf this morning, I couldn’t help but remember Nigel’s excited face illuminated through the magic of my iPhone. He was overseas doing that military thing he does and we were not planning on moving. We had only just begun the “this is forever” talk between the two of us. In an instant, we moved. We settled into the East Coast.

I had high hopes of spending summer hours in the sand under my umbrella reading books as I spent so many days while I was pastoring in Maine. Our home was only an hour from the shore. It seemed like it was possible, like it could happen but it never did. My sister planned my bachelorette party by the ocean and it rained that weekend. We managed to get our toes in the sand but the wind and the rain chased us off the beach sooner than I would have hoped. Same thing happened yesterday. I had planned one last silly night with my cousin in the ridiculousness of Atlantic City with the hopes of spending some time on the beach, but it rained. This time, it rained quite hard.

Tomorrow, after worship is over and some cake is shared, I’ll get in my car headed to the middle of America. Nigel has already settled there and eagerly awaiting my arrival and I’m eager to get there too. It’s been a long summer with too few beach days. It wasn’t the weather. It was me. I didn’t make the time. I made excuses about the traffic and the other things I should be doing. I didn’t allow myself to enjoy this thing that I love so much. Why do I do this to myself?

The beach is a place where my soul is restored. I am calmed by the sound of the waves. The silky pink sand of the East Coast is so familiar after having spent so many summers with my grandparents. It is a place of happy memories. It is place where my family still gathers so that even when I cannot be with them, it is a homecoming. I didn’t enjoy it enough. I wish I had because there is no ocean where I am moving. There may be a lake or two, but there are surely no oceans in the middle of America. I don’t know when we will move back to the East Coast or any coast, but I’d like to think that next time I’ll allow myself to enjoy this place that I love so much.

Cooking for the Family, Again

In less than two weeks, worship will end and I’ll hop in my car and drive off into the cornfields. After way too long apart, Nigel and I will be together again. All will be well. Alleluia. Alleluia.

Before then, there are still a few adventures to be had in the kitchen and beyond. Corey is a big fancy graphic designer. (She is actually using the art degree that brought us together in the first place.) This week, there’s an artsy shindig and I get to be her date in the big city. My parents are coming to visit this weekend and next week I’m looking to a final hurrah in NYC and a ridiculous night of fun with my dear cousin in Atlantic City.

I will not be gambling at the casinos but I might be gambling in the kitchen. You heard about my challenges in cooking for Corey and her family in my last post. It continues as I try to cook bland, boring food for children. (I’m kidding. Sorta.) My strategy has been try to make one dish that has a kid version. Sometimes that has even worked. This week is no different.

Here’s the dinner plan for the week. As usual, you’ll see that I get my inspiration from a few usual suspects.

SuperSale

Tuesday We’ll be enjoying one of my favorites from Cookie + Kate, Spicy Sweet Potato and Green Rice Burrito Bowls. The components of this work really well for kids with a little less spice. Both kids loved her other version of a burrito bowl (as did Mom and Dad). So I’m hoping they like this one too.

Wednesday We have some chicken thighs to use from the freezer so I’m excited to try Smitten Kitchen’s Sheet Pan Chicken Tikka. We’ll be using broccoli with the cauliflower though because the kids love the broccoli.

Thursday We’ll be serving Super Kale, Hemp and Flaxseed Oil Pesto. After conferring with Corey, we are hoping that the fact that it’s pesto will hopefully make the kids want to eat the yummy pesto. We might be dreaming, but we can hope.

On Friday, I’m going out to dinner with my parents but I might never have as good an excuse to make challah than blessing the shabbat table of my dear friends. So, I’m going to take a stab later this week at this Fig, Olive Oil and Sea Salt Challah. It’s going to be another great week of yummy meals.

Menu planning is a very occasional feature of my blog. I do more cooking in the ministry I offer in Ingredients for Worship and cooking up new and exciting Recipes for Ministry. I love to cook both in the kitchen and swap recipes for all sorts of things. So, what are you cooking this week? What’s on your menu?

Premonitions of Grief

Yesterday, another United Church of Christ pastor dared to ask a group of her colleagues and friends if we share in her experience of receiving premonitions. Stories bubbled up from within this trusted circle as much as they bubbled up in me.

I have had writer’s block. I have struggled every day this week to try to get words down on the page. Nothing has come. Or, at least, nothing has come easily. Last week, I turned my attention to this particular memory from my young adulthood. It is a story of a premonition.

The details are sketchy but I remember the feeling. I always remember the feeling. I’m sitting on my bed. I’m doing my homework. There are mounds of books and looseleaf binders surrounding me so much so that I can’t really see the pink bedspread I know lies beneath. I am tired and I really want to shake the books and binders off the bed and crawl into bed. But, I have a math test. (Or maybe that’s a detail I’m making up. Maybe it’s just because I always did my homework. I tried so hard to be the good student.) It’s not late. I shouldn’t be so tired or bored, but I am. I think I am.

The phone rings. But, ever the good girl, I do not rush down the hall. I don’t go answer the phone. I follow the rules and wait until someone calls up the stairs to say it’s for me. Of course, I know it is for me. I’m certain of it. I have no words for it but I know exactly who it was. I know it’s for me.

Finally, the call comes up the stairs confirming what I already know. My feet pad down the hall bouncing off the plush carpet. I pick up the receiver and I hear her say, “Hi!”

It is Lauren. She has some question about math, something she thinks I can help answer but I can’t say anything. I’m gasping for air. I’m sputtering tears until Lauren asks, “Elsa, what’s the matter?… Elsa, are you there?”

“I thought you were my mom. I thought my mom was calling.”

She is quiet as my sobs only get louder. “Do you need to go?” she asks.

I apologize. I say I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I say something about how stupid it is to think that my mom would be calling. She’d died ten years before. Of course, she could not call. She would not call but it felt so clear. I was so certain.

It wouldn’t be long before the phone would ring again. That same familiar feeling would wake me up from my slumber. It is Good Friday. The red numbers on my alarm clock indicate that it is very early. It is still dark. Still, the phone rings.

I hear the gruff barking of my Dad down the hall. He does not say much, grunts more than speaks. Maybe because he is so tired. Maybe because he does not know what to say. It is finished. I hear the phone return to its receiver. The hall light flashes on and I hear Dad’s heavy steps weigh down the plush carpet in the hall.

I know what he will say even before he opens the door. It had been in my dreams. She had died. Gam had died. It didn’t matter how long she’d battled cancer or how weak she had become. I wouldn’t be able to tell those signs for many years. But before Dad opened the door to whisper the news, before light flooded my bedroom, I knew Gam had died.

There’s probably a third story in there somewhere. Probably a fourth and fifth too, but these are the first premonitions of my grief. The first phone call marked a moment in time. When I retreated under my pink bedspread, it was then that I realized that I wouldn’t even recognize the sound of her voice. It had been ten years since I had heard her or seen her. It had been ten years since I had taken in her smell. I had forgotten her and I still don’t know how to make sense of that.

I don’t know how to talk about the shift that happened in the moment. How much I tried to find her. How I searched for those cassette tapes of bedtimes stories she had recorded while she was in the hospital. How I lamented ever doing laundry so that her clothes now smelled more like me than her. How much I couldn’t stand the stories that were told to me about my mom. I had forgotten her and no one else could fill in the blanks. I still missed her. I still wished for another ending, for any alternative to cancer’s victory. But, I no longer grieved her but the idea of her. I don’t want that to be true. I’m trying to write some thing else but it seems like this is the truth.

Still, there’s something strange there. It’s what my colleague in ministry wondered yesterday. We get these premonitions that someone is sick or someone needs a visit. We send notes in the mail and through cyberspace to say we’re just thinking of you. It’s something that love does. I don’t mean for it to sound trite. It’s why I am struggling to type the words into my manuscript. It’s sounds like drivel, except that I don’t believe that it is. There’s something about that connection we share that extends beyond the grave. Something about love changes us. It puts us into greater communion. It orients us toward each other’s wants and needs. It connects us even when it doesn’t make any logical sense.

Blessing of Teachers

Many churches had their kick off celebrations this past Sunday. Some are waiting until this coming Sunday to mark the big day when everything goes back to normal. All of the programming starts up again for the kids and adults. Anything that took a break over the summer months in our congregational life is ready to get going again. Some call it Rally Day. For others it is Homecoming Sunday or even Kick Off Sunday.

It is a big day that involves a lot of work. Much of that work goes into recruiting the right people to offer the love and support to make all of these programs work. It is recruiting that involves a lot of phone calls and cups of coffee to figure out if this particular act of love is the one that is calling right now. Teaching, especially in Sunday School, is always an act of love. It is a huge commitment not just to prepare lesson plans and show up every Sunday you’re on the schedule, but a commitment to journey into your own faith, to grow and be changed as you learn together.

It is why I do not miss the chance to bless our teachers when all of that programming begins. I do not limit the invitation. I invite everyone that has chosen to answer the call to discipleship. I ask the youth leaders and the bible study leaders. I invite the people on the committee and those stocking the supply closet and providing snacks to come forward not only to be blessed but to remember that they are not alone in this work. It takes a village which is why this blessing begins with talk of covenants.

Blessing of Teachers

One: A covenant is a promise we make together to before God.  Covenants remind us to love and support each another.  When we start new things, like another year in Sunday School, we make promises to grow and learn together as disciples of Jesus.

Every one – parents, children, teachers, and people too old for Sunday School – has a part in making these promises to blessing and encourage each other.  Together, we make promises to God so that we can all grow together in faith and love.  First, we ask the children to make their promises.  Please echo my words:

Thank you God, for our Sunday School.

Thank you for the gift of Jesus,

Who teaches us so many things.

We are excited about Sunday School

And hope to learn more about You

From our teachers, our substitutes, and our whole church family

Each and every day.

Parents and Congregation: We love our children.  We will encourage them to live in the way of Christ.  We will join with them in studying God’s Word.  We will try our best to grow with them in faith.  And we will support the work of our Church School with our time, our talent, our treasure and our prayers.

Teachers: We will walk with God and with the children and youth of our congregation.  We will work together and with God’s help, we will do our best to learn, to live, and to teach the way of Christ.

One: We do not only make promises together today. We share in blessings. The laying on of hands is the symbolic act where the church recognizes God’s call to ministry in the lives of faithful people and asks the Holy Spirit to give them the courage they need.  The Holy Spirit gave the ministry of teaching to the church in its earliest days.  It has always been one of the most important ministries of believers.  And so, we lay hands upon you, our teachers, and bless you to do the work that God has called you to.

Ask everyone to touch the shoulder of the person in front of and/or near them, people in front pews and children in chancel and ministers lay hands on teachers, so everyone’s connected to someone else. Once everyone is connected, pray these words aloud.

One: Eternal God, you have called these faithful people to serve you as teachers. Send your Holy Spirit upon them so that they can do this work in the fullness of your love. May all that we learn goethe in this year teach us more and more about your grace and hope. We pray in Jesus’ name,  Amen.

Allow this moment of blessing to lead right into the Passing of the Peace so that hugs and handshakes might extend the blessing of this moment. You’ll notice, of course, that this particular liturgy refers to teachers and only teachers. I adapt this to include all of the appropriate titles (even if there is no appropriate title.)

Check back for more Ingredients for Worship next Tuesday and don’t forget to share what you’ve cooked up in the comments below!

I would be particularly interested to hear from those that attend churches that have ditched Sunday School and embraced other faith formation models. How do you bless the leaders that do this good work in your church? Would this liturgy even work or does it assume an old model? I would love to hear from you!