Ash Wednesday from Backstage

A few days ago, we embarked for the journey that Lent represents – a time of introspection during which we prepare for Easter and the resurrection of Christ. It starts with worship, on the evening of Ash Wednesday where we receive a cross-shaped mark on our forehead drawn with ashes, symbol of mourning and sacrifice.

The word of Lent in French is Carême , from the Latin Quadragesima, meaning 40^th, for the 40 days (not including Sundays) of the season. In English, Lent points toward spring, the time where days lengthen.

At UPPC, last Wednesday, worship was at 7:00 PM. The preparations reminded me of my first American Ash Wednesday, in Dubuque, Iowa where I lived my first two American years. The seminary student in charge of providing the ashes got worried because they were too light-colored. He had an idea which showed genius: he would add some toner – ink meant for printers. He had time later to confirm that the color was perfect: the dark shade of the cross on the forehead of the participants of the worship tenaciously resisted being washed out from their face for several days.

As the service closed, I was by the side of Aaron and Taeler, each with our bowl of ashes. It was moving to touch the foreheads of the participants, being in this close contact with them, sometimes pushing away a strand of hair... 

This was the time where we are reminded of our mortality with the sentence “Remember you were dust – and to dust you shall return”. This was so unusual to say so to each of them, particularly the youngest ones. And yet true, and strangely peaceful.

The weirdest thought came through my mind suddenly – should I say “you will return” or “you shall return”? Memories from my English grammar class seem to indicate that “shall” should be used only for the first person, singular and plural – in other words, “I” and “we”. Taeler and Aaron were not close enough for me to hear what they were saying. 

I pushed the thought away. I must have said both. I think both were okay…

The service ended in silence. 

The Legendary and the Mundane, or Wandering on Facebook

I am not on Instagramm, Pinterest or Twitter. Why? Because I am already addicted to Facebook and I don’t want to add any other temptations.

Obviously, Facebook is not perfect. If we don’t pay attention, we can really  get hypnotized while looking at our home page, going without any transition from tragedies of the world to recipes our friends made last night. 

And let’s be honest about it : since there is always something new to check on, Facebook is a top tool for any expert in procrastination.

But Facebook is also irreplaceable. Let’s take an example. If you happen to be a French person who grew up in the Paris suburbs, studied theology in Paris then in Dubuque, Iowa then got quickly ordained (12 short years later…) Facebook will allow you to stay connected to your French and American Friends, from childhood, high school, French home church in Cergy, friends from two seminaries - and you can also connect with their friends, many of them being interesting people with good reading that they comment. You also have the opportunity to chat by instant messaging.

Facebook also provides pictures and videos of delightful animals – an important addition to any normal day. I just discovered the FB page of a refuge for big cats in Florida. They post gorgeous pictures of the animals. (Big Cat Rescue)

Many good newspapers and Medias have pages on FB. So in one journey through your home page, you have the opportunity to go through many articles from French and American magazines. Your friends share their own discoveries.

Today for instance, thanks to Michel Jas, Facebook friend and French pastor, I read a long article on ISIS, published by the Atlantic. Its author, Graeme, makes clear that this movement is founded on a belief system coming from a medieval interpretation of the Koran. It explains a lot – and particularly why so many feel compelled to join them and how to stop them.   (Graeme Wood, What Isis Really Wants, http://www.theatlantic.com/features/archive/2015/02/what-isis-really-wants/384980/ )

And I also read the poignant statement written by Bishop Angeolos, representing the Egyptian Coptic church in Great Britain, after the brutal death of Coptic Christians in Lybia. I was touched by his words “In the midst of this sorrow however, we must continue to dig deeper for the joy that comes from an understanding that this life is but a “vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away” (James 4:14)

http://www.bishopangaelos.org/content/statement-his-grace-bishop-angaelos-following-brutal-murder-coptic-christians-libya

Thanks to Facebook, I can also be part of conversations with groups such as “RevGalBlogPals” (women pastors who share they experience and liturgies) or “Things They Didn’t Teach Us in Seminary!” (swap of prayers and also comments on thorny situations, with suggestions and supports). I found on Facebook the work of Rev. Steven Charleston, Retired Episcopalian Pastor from the Choctaw tribe, who writes daily beautiful prayers. I read this one during the worship at UPPC last Sunday.

"We are never outside the reach of prayer. No matter who we are, no matter what we do, we are always within the circle of someone's prayer. We live each day in this field of prayer. We sleep within its embrace; we rise within its blessing.

Somewhere, everyday, someone of some faith is praying in a way that includes us. They are asking the holy, by whatever name they know, to have mercy, to heal, to protect others. We walk within that prayer without even knowing it, without ever recognizing its source in the person who prayed it. In the same way, our own prayers reach the most distant stranger, until none of us are ever beyond the hope we share."

So that’s the typical stroll on Facebook : words that bring a larger understanding of the world, others who touch your heart and invite you to look up to Heaven, with a few stops to hear from your childhood friends and get cozy with a tiger. That’s not too bad of a journey…

Pink Sky on President’s Day

Today is President’s Day. UPPC is closed, so is the headquarter of PCUSA in Louisville where Irvin works from home – a deployed position. We both have things to do, bible studies to prepare, articles to write, emails requiring replies…

But there was sunshine today at that was the opportunity of a pause. We walked Sitka in the Spring-like weather. As usual, she insisted she would bark every time we would pass by other strollers, two or four legged ones, even if she eventually shared silent moments of fellowship, muzzle to muzzle, with some friendly dogs. 

That was the opportunity to wonder about a topic that regularly comes back in our conversation : make sure Denali does not follow Sitka’s example.

When the sun went down, the sky became pink and luminous. We know that the East coast is struggling with mountains of snow and frigid temperatures right now. I wish we could switch somewhat : some warmth for them, a few snowflakes for us. We hardly had any winter.

Picture by Joey Leatheman posted
on the facebook page of local channel King5

But it does not work that way. Each area has its own climate. We can only wish that Spring season will eventually cross the Rocky mountains… 

A week in February

I made a resolution for 2015 and I want to keep it, in a flexible way. The resolution is to write a post in my blog at least once a week. It is so much harder to break months of silence. When it happens, I feel like I hardly let a few weeks go by, and realize suddenly that it has been 5 months of not blogging! Getting back to it is like running after a galloping horse and try to crawl back on its back.

So what happened this week?

An important event in the life of UPPC (University Place Presbyterian Church) where I work: the installation of our new Senior Pastor, Aaron Stewart, last Sunday. Aaron was picked for this position on the last Sunday of November – the same day I got ordained actually. This is an audacious and wise choice. Audacious because in the Presbyterian tradition, churches usually hire an outsider (it actually used to be the absolute rule) and Aaron has been part of the life of UPPC for the past 18 years. Wise because he is a great leader. He was the executive pastor during the transition that preceded his nomination. I appreciate his open and dynamic style. A new page of the life of UPPC just started.

And today is Friday the 13^th.

February the 13^th is Saint Beatrice day. My family never celebrated those days, in French “fêtes” – where you congratulate the bearer of the name of the Saint of the day.  But two have remained in my memories, February the 13^th and December 1^st, after the names of my Catholic friends! I was 8 when Beatrice and I met. We have often lived far away geographically from each other ever since but never stopped send each other letters, fax and emails, depending on the years.

Beatrice, in white, during one of our visits in Troyes, France, where she lives
with her husband Max who took the picture. 

February 13^th is also an anniversary. In 2001, Irvin and I got engaged on that day. Today afternoon, while enjoying some fresh oysters on a tavern by the water under a hesitant sky (clouds and sunshine) I was thinking that whatever people say, Fridays 13^th are actually propitious days. 

Green Crosses from one Continent to the Next

On my sister-blog in French, I posted a message on February 7^th, titled “Green Crosses are misleading” .

In that post, I let potential French visitors know the local meaning of the green crosses which, in France, are the signs of Pharmacy stores, in other words places where you purchase your medicine. 

Here, they point to places selling a different kind of drug: marijuana, which can be legally purchased and used in our state, as long as you are over 21 and doing it in the privacy of your home.

You purchase your medicine quite differently in France, as I mentioned in a previous post.

When I drive around and see those green crosses, I still think “Pharmacie!” 

I spent 35 years of my life in France. I guess you cannot completely disconnect from the urban symbols you grew up with! 

Denali is coming

Dogs come into our lives to teach us about love, they depart to teach us about loss. A new dog never replaces an old dog; it merely expands the heart. If you have loved many dogs, your heart is very big. (Erica Jong)

This is not about «replacing» Tashina. Simply, we have enjoyed so much having eight paws running at home and two muzzles around us that we have started to inquire about the litters of puppies in our area.

Debbie, in whose home Tashina was born, told us about a litter in Oregon. The father belongs to her. Seven cocker spaniels puppies, all black, were born at the end of the year. Some may become show dogs.

But not this little girl: her belly and throat are white. This is considered a flaw in the breed. A black cocker should be solid black. So she must go to a pet family, not interested in show competition. This is exactly us. We find her very cute as she is. We are going to call her Denali – as in Denali mountain, in Alaska. We will go and pick her up early March.

Of course, we are not sure what Sitka will think about this. She has settled quickly in her new routine of only pup of the house and enjoys our full attention. She may grind her teeth a little. We hope she will have fun going back to her playful puppy self.

As for us, we are bracing ourself for the accidental pees in the house, nibbled shoes and furnitures. It will be fine. Spring will be almost here.