Roots, wings and French words

I just learned quite a few things on the Notre Dame de Paris cathedral recently. The façade leans forward of about a foot, a tilting that took place on the 13rd century then stopped.

Viollet le Duc, the architect who restored the cathedral on the 19^th century added apostles carved in copper, set at the foot of the spire. 

And he represented himself as St Thomas, protector of architects. While the apostles look straight ahead, St Thomas alone turns back and looks at the spire.

The crown of thorns, the real one, can be found, we are told, among the relics of Notre Dame, protected by precious metal and fine stones.

I learned all that thanks to the French class that I facilitate on Thursday night. This class focuses on pronunciation. After all, if you have a good accent in French, you will be understood even if your French is not grammar perfect.

So I looked for ways to help my students to pronounce as well as possible. It is above all a question of rhythm. Putting the tonic accent at the right place in the word is essential. And I wanted us to also have a good time!

We sang. I looked for a new song every week where there would not be too much slang, where the singer would enunciate and with verbs at the present tense. I realized then how many French songs rich with conditional, imperative or subjunctive verbs were out there!  

We watched together « La Grande Vadrouille », an iconic comedy released in the 60s that is still watched and enjoyed in France. My own nephews know some fun quotes by heart, just like my brother and I did! So I wrote down the dialogue for the class to read it together. But a lot of the humor comes with back and forth between the characters and is not easily transferred in another language. When you have to say “you know, in French, this is so funny…” you know this is not working too well.

Eventually we found exactly what we needed : solid documentaries from the French TV, from the series “Des Racines et des Ailes” (roots and wings) can be found on Youtube. They last about 30 minutes and we go through them in 8 to 10 lessons.

We visited the Louvre and learned about its past as a castle, jail and safe deposit for the kings of the Middle Age before it became a palace for the royal family then the museum we know[1]

We went to St Malo, in Brittany, visited its mansions around the city and the islands facing the coast. We learned about its almost utter destruction during the last world war[2].

And we just finished “Notre Dame, au Cœur de l’histoire » (Notre Dame, at the heart of history) where we saw beautiful images of the cathedral as it looked centuries ago, painted with vivid colors and surrounded by narrow streets and many little homes[3].

Thanks to those Roots and Wings, my students work on their pronunciation skills… and we learn together more about my far-away home country.

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[1] « La fabuleuse histoire du musée du Louvre» https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77Rw4gH3giA

[2]  « St Malo, le passé recomposé » https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93wnyavtexQ&t=1668s  

[3] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03YbQPKKt6U&t=134s

A Blessing for Leaders

Elizabeth concluded the retreat by reading this Blessing for Leaders by John O’Donohue. 

I translated it in French on my French blog – a fun challenge! 

This is actually a great read for leaders – and anyone having authority on anything and anyone, including one self.

May you have the grace and wisdom to act kindly,
learning to distinguish between what is personal and what is not.

May you be hospitable to criticism.
May you never put yourself at the center of things.
May you act not from arrogance but out of service.
May you work on yourself, building up and refining the ways of your mind.

May those who work for you know you see and respect them.
May you learn to cultivate the art of presence in order to engage with those who meet you.

When someone fails or disappoints you, may the graciousness with which you engage

be their stairway to renewal and refinement.

May you treasure the gifts of the mind through reading and creative thinking
so that you continue as a servant of the frontier
where the new will draw its enrichment from the old, and you never become functionary.

May you know the wisdom of deep listening, the healing of wholesome words,
the encouragement of the appreciative gaze, the decorum of held dignity,
the springtime edge of the bleak question.

May you have a mind that loves frontiers
so that you can evoke the bright fields that lie beyond the view of the regular eye.

May you have good friends to mirror your blind spots.
May leadership be for you a true adventure of growth.

Amen!

The painting is by Bill Jacklin, detail, Calle II, oil on canvas, 2008.

A Retreat Between Ocean and Mountains

“Sitting is the new Smoking!” That was Elizabeth’s statement, explaining why she stayed standing as she read us a blessing, opening the retreat that she was facilitating from her beautiful home for all leaders of the Presbytery – that is anyone chairing a committee and/or with responsibilities in the Presbytery of Olympia. 

That’s actually true, being sedentary brings the same kind of health risks than smoking, I read. Always good to keep in mind, even if we had gathered to get to know each other better and work on our creativity.

Olympic mountains are hardly visible above the horizon 

That last Thursday was sunny and cold, a very clear sky that allowed us to see the Mt Rainier over the Puget Sound on one side and the Olympic mountains on the other.

At one point, Elizabeth displayed many pictures of paintings and works of art, inviting us to pick one we were attracted to. I chose this one. 

As many people in ministry, I am an introvert who function as an extrovert at work. I need times of solitude to recharge, times where I look like she does, expressionless. 

I did not know when I picked that Edgar Degas, the artist, had made the portrait of “A Convalescent”. I am no longer a convalescent – but sure need “fallow” times to stay healthy. 

First Page

It snowed last night in our little corner of Pacific Northwest: the year is starting in a white surrounding that allows us to literally step out on untouched territory in this brand new year. A year that many of us apprehend more than any other.

“Optimism is the belief that things will get better. Hope is the belief that, together, we can make things better. Optimism is a passive virtue, hope an active one. It takes no courage to be an optimist, but it takes a great deal of courage to have hope.” - Rabbi Jonathan Sacks.[1]

Courage and hope: let’s grab those virtues as we face whatever may come next this year. To be followed…  

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[1] Quoted by Rabbi Bruce Kadden, in the News Tribune article “Faith Leaders Usher in 2017 with words of unity and hope” http://www.thenewstribune.com/opinion/article124007204.html

The Voice of God

I was in a monastery for a retreat, north in the State of New York, shared one of the leaders of the conference. 

It was very cold. 

In the afternoon, I would make my way through layers and layers of snow to a chapel where I would meet with the monk who was my spiritual director during my stay. 

I could not hear the voice of God anymore. 

He showed me a heap of snow nearby the chapel. 

“If this was spring, you would see a river over here, he said. 

It is not frozen. 

It still runs, under those many feet of snow. 

In complete silence, I still hear it. 

It goes the same way with the voice of God…” 

Sleep is a Prayer

The Lord gives sleep to those He loves, were we reminded. (Psalm 127:2). 

I think the Lord also loves the insomniac... 
We retired after this prayer by John of Dalyutha, an 8th c. mountain hermit in the region of modern Iraq:

"If you are tired and worn out
by your labors for your Lord, 
place your head upon His knee and rest awhile.
Recline upon his breast (John.13:23)
breathe in the fragrant spirit of life, 
and allow life to permeate your being.
Rest upon him, for he is a table of refreshment (Ps. 23:5)
that will serve you for the food of the divine Father."
Good night all!

Sweet Trinity

In today’s class at our Conference, led by BJ Woodworth (on the picture) we looked at this famous icon by Andrey Rublev (early 15th c.) representing the divine visitors that surprised Abraham at Mamre in Genesis 18. This icon has also been interpreted as a representation of the Trinity. 

The Son is in the middle, and the Father, on the right (with the green garment) turns his head toward him: he is sending the Son. The Son looks at Holy Spirit, with the gold garment. The Son is sending the Spirit (John 14). 

And the table between them, is the table of God, where we are invited (Ps. 23) to complete the circle. We, the creatures, are invited to the table with our Creator. We are invited to fellowship with God. From creatures, God sends us to become creators and bring his Kingdom into reality. 

Obviously, we had a Trinitarian dessert afterward: three raspberries, three drops of berry sauce, on the square table of a lemon tart. An enjoyable way to delight in Christian theology! 

God is in Florida

"In my heart of hearts God is closer to me than I am to myself." (St Augustin)

We are… in Florida, where Irvin and I will be part of a conference about “Making Room for God”. This is part of our continuous education – two weeks a year. We get to choose where to go – it is also possible to stay home and read the growing pile of theological books discovered and ordered as the year went by.

Those few days will allow a change in our daily routine; take time to dwell in the Scriptures. That will be a pause to attempt and discern the voice of God in our lives… while breathing the salted air of the ocean under the sun.

There are 75 of, Presbyterians pastors from the four corners of the continent for this conference. Being to meet and reconnect is one of the greatest aspects of this kind of gathering. We hope to find here the “substance”, the spiritual food that will sustain us throughout the year.

Pastor B.J Woodworth, one of the leaders of the conference, told us the following story as an introduction. A Rabbi was studying the Genesis book with his students. At each step of the creation, we read the famous words “And it was good”. Except… when humans were created.

Why? asked the Rabbi to his students. The answers were diverse and some very inventive but the Rabbi dismissed them. Eventually, he explained that the word “good” (tov) also means “complete, accomplished”. God did not create humans as completed beings. Each of us is meant to achieve God’s work in ourselves.

That afternoon, Irvin and I walked on the beach that seemed to never end. The wind reminded us that winter was here, but we took great pleasure in feeling the waves so close as the birds, seagulls, cormorants and pelicans dived in to capture fish.

That was, yes, tov. Good. 

Three Dogs means 12 Paws

I mentioned Denali, our new black puppy girl, in earlier posts. After a time of reluctance (she loved being the only dog of the house) Sitka, our older girl, accepted Denali but we could tell it was not the best match. Denali has such a yearning for play times and games that Sitka, who is 10 year old, cannot fulfill. After 30 seconds of fun, Sitka clearly shows she is done.

When we found out that Debbie, our breeder friend, had a new litter, we intensely looked at the pictures.  Irvin immediately melted when looking at a male pup, chestnut colored with the white spots on his chest that means that he was destined to be a family pet, not a show dog.

I never had a male dog, and I felt out of my comfort zone with this little guy for a while. But it was only fair that Irvin would make the pick, we have had three females so far. He was feeling a little lonely being the only man at home!

And this is how, in August, we brought Kenai home. Sitka was exasperated. ANOTHER dog??? Denali was delighted.

Sitka assessing the new comer. This was the day we brought Kenai home.

Then the pack found its balance. Sitka is the Alpha girl who has the last word if there is conflict. The two pups flatten themselves on the ground if she growls. Denali and Kenai play all the time together, chewing each other ears, in the house or in the yard. There is chaos and lots of movements but we are not complaining. It is all good. 

Holy Week, a Week Apart

Holy Week is an essential time in the life of a church. Each year, the same question comes up: how should we best present the last hours of the life of Christ, so that we remain faithful to the biblical message without repeating a routine, year after year? How do we celebrate those ancient events while making them current and relevant to the 21^st century parishioners?

Thursday – Last Supper and Clean Hands

Thursday is Maundy Thursday – from latin “Mandatun” which means “commandment”, referring to the “new commandment” given by Christ during the last supper.

In the Gospel of John, in lieu of the command to eat the bread and drink the wine – representing the body and blood of Christ – we find Jesus insisting on washing the feet of his disciples. They are embarrassed. This task belonged to the least of the servants in a traditional household. Jesus  was teaching them an attitude of service toward each other that would be instrumental in bringing the Kingdom of God closer.

Irvin and I did not spend this evening together since CIF and UPPC both had planned a potluck dinner that night. There would also be a time of worship and communion. At UPPC, we also would wash each other – not feet, but hands. This was a suggestion that came from my experience at CIF. We did so a few years ago.

Washing feet was a tradition at the time of Jesus, where everyone had to walk their way to their destination on the dry and dusty paths of the Middle East. People would walk with simple sandals or with bare feet. Today, in our western world, feet don’t need a washing after we get to our destination. Our hands, however, are the ones requiring cleaning. They represent our service and our actions. They also express our desire of transparency and sincerity. Historically, we shake hands to demonstrate we are unarmed.  

I checked on what people were saying on that topic on Christian websites. I was surprise to find a controversy about it! Those who insisted on washing feet felt that doing otherwise was betraying the Scriptures. “Jesus did not wash the hands of his disciples! Let’s dare and follow his example rather than focusing on making parishioners more comfortable by not requiring they let go of their shoes!”

Sometimes, I feel we should also dare contextualize actions and traditions.

Friday – the Cross and the Gift of Freedom

Nine stations were put together in UPPC sanctuary. Each of the stations represented a step on Christ’s journey toward the cross on this Friday, from the garden of Gethsemane to Golgotha. At each station, participants were invited to reflect on the trials endured by Jesus and on their own path. This was a project that required an enormous amount of work, in particular for the team that physically put together each station. Lots of visitors came and appreciated this journey in the heart of Good Friday.  

That night was also Passover night. Irvin and I drove to Seattle to be part of the celebration with my Jewish family. As my aunt Diane mentioned, Passover takes place this year right in the middle of Holy week, and on a Friday, that is on Sabbath night. We praised together God the liberator with prayers in Hebrew, which is a delight for me and we dipped the Karpas (usually parsley) in little bowls of salt water. This is a reminder of that in midst of tears, we can also already taste hope and renewal.

We praise God who frees us and we are invited to become aware of the responsibility that now lays on us : we must use this freedom to free our neighbors. If they stay oppressed, we are not truly free either.

I admire the way the liturgy is waived throughout the meal, and how children become part of it, not simply observers, but actors. The youngest at the table asks the ritual questions, starting by “Why is this night different from all the other nights?”. Children are also tasked with looking for the Afikomen, a piece of matzah (flat bread) that has been hidden previously. This Afikomen will be the dessert.

But we had more than a piece of matzah for dessert. We enjoyed the fruits of the extraordinary talent of our friend Emma Notkine, whose lemon and pistaccio cake (a flour-less cake, of course) was a true work of art. This was high cuisine – and Emma is hardly in her early twenties!

Saturday – a pause (and for pastors : time to feverishly write their Easter sermons)

And since I was not preaching, it was a welcome pause for me.

Sunday – He is risen.

Three services that morning at UPPC, and for those who work there, a parking further away to make room for the visitors. A little girl in a pink dress from a fairy tale was baptized at one of the services and she admitted that she hoped that the bruise she had on her face (a confrontation with another child during recess that week) would disappear with the baptismal water. 

During the contemporary service, a rap in the middle of the opening song, not exactly my kind of music, but this one was superb and occasioned an ovation from the surprised and delighted crowd. 

And Pastor Aaron, with the same enthusiasm, preached three times about the way God reaches us best when we are in the ground, in the deepest hole, in a grave like Jesus was.

It was Easter.

Then the discreet ritual that follows Easter… Rest for exhausted pastors. 

Riding with Volcanoes

The drive we did yesterday, from Washington State to Oregon, on Interstate 5 that leads all the way to California, can be a bit dull. But volcanoes keep things interesting.

We start with Mount Rainier, our neighbor. I feel like I know every detail of the side I get to see everyday wherever I go. I notice the change of seasons with the levels of snow that never goes completely away from its top.

When driving South, Mount St Helen appears fast. Its depressed crater is a reminder that in 1980, it erupted in a disastrous way.

Then, when in Oregon, Mt Hood and its pointy summit is next to be seen.

Those volcanoes are part of the chain of Cascades and disseminated from Canada to the north of California.

The most dangerous one, according to scientists, is probably Mount Rainier, as it is located so close to Seattle and Tacoma. This volcano is also covered with glaciers that would melt if it erupted. 

Even with a simple leak of hot water, the melting snow and ice would create a lahar, a flow of mud thick like cement that would be extremely dangerous.  

We live in the shadow of the volcano.

Authorities recommend that everyone has an emergency plan ready, just in case. Still, it is difficult to see this so familiar mountain otherwise than a breath-taking  view intended to remain unchanged.

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… 

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! 

Consternation

I was on a morning stroll on Facebook last Wednesday and the news caught my eyes. Attack on Charlie Hebdo. 12 people dead. I said out loud «Quoi ???» What ?

Among the casualties, I read those names that were so familiar, Cabu, Wolinsky – all dead. “It is not possible. I can’t believe it.”

Cabu was familiar since my childhood, he was on a kid’s show then later on the Canard Enchainé, which I read every week when I became an adult. Drawings of Wolinsky were everywhere, the Canard, Paris-Match (equivalent of People)… This was devastating. American news focused most on Charb, the Editor of the newspaper but Cabu and Wolinsky were the most famous ones - for all those who were not readers of Charlie Hebdo. 

I went through the following days. I was working, talking, smiling but I was also in another dimension, curled up in a corner, in tears and pulling my hair off, repeating “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it…” over and over and over…

I followed the news. I did not want to hear about anything else because I could not think about anything else.

The French channel, TV5 on Comcast, had good news but only once in a while. I turned to CNN and was not disappointed. They went all Breaking News and focused on what was going on in France.

That same night, I was on my way to church for a meeting. I stopped in a Starbuck – the only place for a decent hot chocolate. Two teenagers were waiting for their latte and one of them had a 6 weeks old puppy in her arms. “He was born in the garage of our neighbor, she explained, noticing my interest. A stray dog came in, had the litter there. They did not know her. We are going to keep this little guy.”

I said something nice about the pup, which made the girls curious. Apparently my accent can be heard even after a few words. They asked. “French???" said one, who seemed almost incredulous. The face of the other one saddened. “That’s terrible what happened over there. I am so sorry!” I was surprised she knew. Teenagers are often not that connected with news, particularly when something happens abroad.  

“Do you want to hold him?” she said. I took her pup in my arms. He was warm and sleepy. He moved to be more comfortable and I felt his muzzle on my neck.

A few minutes later, I walked back to my car. Something hard and tense in my chest had softened a bit.

“What is left to the human when uncertainty alone seems to be a sure thing?” wrote Marie Cenec[1].

What is left is a moment with a warm sleeping puppy in your arms.

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[1] “C’est tous les Jours Dimanche”, quoted by my friend Michele Lortscher on Facebook.