Lighting Brigid's Fire

St. Brigid in the Desert has started meeting as a church again.  We're meeting weekly - which is an unexpected turn of events, really.  It was in some ways a difficult decision, yet in another way it was the simplest decision of all.  It took a long time to decide what to do.  I knew the time was coming to light a little bit of Brigid's fire, but in my overwhelmingly busy life, I couldn't see where I was being Called to go with it.

Then, I started that whole journaling thing back up, an experience I wrote about in my last blog.  I was poised to graduate from my unit of Certified Pastoral Education, and I began to allow myself a little more time opening to Spirit.  Answers to my questions about what I needed to do next began to flow into my mind and settle into my heart.

First, find a place to meet for a discussion group once a month.  We'll be starting an open discussion on various topics at Macayo's in Mesa on Monday, February 9 at 6:30 p.m.  The first thing we'll be discussing is whether or not we believe in "God," and if so, what we believe.  There is no requirement to believe in anything - just a willingness to discuss our thoughts about things beyond our perception and to accept the thoughts of others.

Second, I knew St. Brigid needed to become more of a church than it has been in a long time.  It weighed heavily on my heart, yet after I decided upon the place and date for our first discussion group, I knew what to do for the worship service.  We met this past Sunday at Red Mountain Park in Mesa.  We will meet there every Sunday at 4:00 p.m. until we discover a better place.  I found a nice spot at or near the Owl Ramada that is first come, first served.  If we can meet under the ramada, we will do so.  This past Sunday, I set up my table nearby and a handful of us met around it.  We spent a little bit of time reviewing the history of St. Brigid in the Desert and the Universal Anglican Church.  We prayed, I gave a message, and we shared Communion.  The entire service can be read at my sermon site, Sermons from an Inter-Spiritual Priestess.

Last week's message was about becoming Spiritual Warriors.  One of the tools for doing so, I said, was to think for ourselves.  It occurs to me that if only we thought for ourselves as we come into conversations with others, it might be easier to be ourselves all the time.  Wouldn't it be easier to avoid hypocrisy if we worked toward being who we are and what we are called to be, instead of trying to be what someone else tells  us we're supposed to be?  This doesn't require that we drop everything we've been taught - it simply requires that we think about what we've been taught and how it applies in this great big wonderful pluralistic world we live in.

Right?

I'm such a heretic.

In honor of St. Brigid, here's a beautiful song to light a fire of inspiration, played by the 1999 Hopkins Junior High String Orchestra of Fremont, California.

The Deepest Place

I’ve found it.  That place.  You know, that place Frederick Buechner calls “the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.”  My place.  It’s been there all along, and I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to find it.

A few weeks ago I started my first unit of Clinical Pastoral Education.  CPE is a combination of classroom learning and discussion and hands-on experience as a Chaplain Intern in a hospital setting.  On one of my early regular shifts, I knew.  I only had a couple of hours to work, so I went to one of my assigned floors to introduce myself and see a couple of patients.  Mine are the baby floors.  Labor and Delivery, Ante-Partum, and Couplet Care, where the mommies and babies go before they leave the hospital.  Of course, when I’m On Call, I am all over the hospital.  This day, though, with as little time as I had, I was on my own floors.

That night, I found myself praying for a baby, born too soon, and her mourning parents.  I had hardly left the room when I was paged by the On Call Chaplain to provide a viewing of someone who had passed away for a loved one.  One would think a night like that would send a newcomer reeling, but instead I found myself rejuvenated, knowing I had been given the chance to be with someone in their deepest hour of need.

Since that night, I’ve rejoiced with birth parents and adoptive parents, prayed with adult children who have lost their parents, and sat with people recovering from surgery, others preparing for surgery, and yet others who would be out of the emergency room before the night was through.

No matter what kind of day or night I have at the hospital, I know that I will bring peace to at least one person.  I give something, yet I take away so much more.

The day I walked down the hall in the hospital, holding on to my bright pink folder, and realized that I had come to the crux of my spirituality, the trajectory of my life changed.  The trajectory of my ministry became clear.  The clarity of this vision brings a change to the mission of St. Brigid in the Desert.

I will be spending some time in prayer as I discern where St. Brigid will be heading.  Certainly, I will continue to offer Spiritual Direction and Life Celebration services.  How I will approach this from the standpoint of the church will reveal itself in time.

I’d like to share with you a poem I wrote from my experiences in chaplaincy so far.  It is as yet untitled.

I’ve seen the pallid

Face of death

Eyes mere shadowed

Memories of dreams;

Once imagined thought

Of what might have been

I’ve heard the screams

Of midlife child

Unprepared for loss

Of reconciliation, door

Closed for half a life

Will never open now

I’ve held the hand

Of childless mother

Once-filled womb now empty,

And arms aching to hold, and

Tears shed for the

Life that might have been

I, who lend my ear, my hand

My heart, pray

Spirit brings peace

When even I cannot

Feel Her Presence

In other rooms, beyond

Newborns cry

And mothers shed

Tears of joy and fear

For the fragile life

Placed in their hands

New Hope

In the midst of sorrow

© 18 September 2014

Blessings to all of you as we enter into a new season.