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. 

How Not to Be Perfect

It is one thing to accept to make mistakes, like Gaiman engages us to do (see below). 

But how does one overcome the determination to succeed at the first try in a flawless way – or else abandon it all? If we open our Bible, even Jesus seems to push us toward being a perfectionist.

“Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect”. (Matthew 5:48, NIV)

If the goal is matching God’s perfection, everything is unattainable. How not to feel like the wings of our audacity have been cut short, as well as any enthusiasm – a word that actually means ‘divinely inspired’?

But Jesus’ perfection is not ours. The Greek word translated by “perfect” is τέλειος (teleios) which means “wholeness, maturity”. 

This is not about being flawless but complete, accomplished. We find the same idea in words derived from Latin such as integral or integrity.

This integrity, the fullness of our being, is the goal. And one can reach it by living fully and completely. 

Rumor has it…

Apparently, we are now in 2015. 

I tend to mentally delay the unavoidable step into the New Year. Even before Christmas came along, I had a full list of things to do that I thought I would “take care of next year”. Even if “next year” became only distant by a couple of days or even a few hours, it was still on the other side of an invisible frontier, in a blurry future.

Until midnight set in.

I should not say that it took me by surprise. In the afternoon, I knew France had jumped into the future, then it was New York and the  East coast…. Until midnight reached us.

Then there was no more escaping.  We were the next day and “nex year”.

Among the wishes found on Facebook, words from author Neil Gaiman encouraged me. 

So welcome 2015 ! Let’s raise our glass to audacity, the joy to create, enthusiasm and the discovery of new horizons, curiosity and excursions beyond our limits! 

And let’s be ready to smile to the procession of inevitable mistakes to come, that we will face as graciously as possible… in other words: Happy New Year! 

Angels, cakes and divine presence

Rev. Lynn Longfield, a friend I look up to, accepted to preach during the ordination service. When I was working at the Presbytery, Lynn was the Presbyter, in other words the Pastor of the Pastors.

Lynn preached on Elijah’s journey, supported by God’s angels through discouragement and despair (1 Kings 19). This is one of my favorite biblical tests. 

An angel supports Elijah with fresh water and cakes baked on hot stones. Eventually, God comes close to Elijah, as a “gentle whisper” or “a still small  voice” (depending on the translations) so they can talk.

The paradox, said Lynn, is that “when God speaks to us in the silence of our own hearts, in that still voice of mysterious wonder, there comes also a deeper revelation that we are not alone, and, in fact, never have been."

The important is to listen. Lynn mentioned that she was given a plaque that read “silence and listen have the same letters. Coincidence?”

God walks by our side in many ways, concluded Lynn. Sometimes, God sends us angels that provide us with hot cakes and fresh water. The community around us is also the witness of God’s love.

It was never truer as on my ordination day. 

Ordained !

Finally, a few years after starting to study theology (this was in…. 1996 at the Institut Protestant de Theologie, in Paris) the day of the ordination arrived.

Of course,  since then I had moved in a new country, switched languages, went from French Reformed Church to PC(USA), went through the Dubuque (Iowa) seminary. I also married, moved on the West Coast of the USA and discovered the world and culture of Native Americans.

I had been “certified ready to be ordained” for the past three years, which means that I had also passed the ordination exams and did the internships in church and hospital, wrote my statement of faith – in other words, I was ready.

But I still had one condition to fill : I needed a call. When the Commission on Ministry accepted to consider my work as “Director of Spiritual Formation” as a validated ministry, the path to ordination was eventually opened.

So I defended my statement of faith in front of the Presbytery. I was apprehensive but it went very well, in a friendly atmosphere.

On November 30^th, I was surrounded by my family and my friends when I became a “Minister of word and sacrament” also called “Teaching Elder”, as pastors were called in the 16^th century, an expression recently brought back to life in our denomination.

My brother Frederic came all the way from France and read a psalm in French during the service, along with Zohndra, one of the endearing teenagers of the church. 

My uncle Jean-Loup, his wife Diane and my cousins from Seattle were also there. Danielle’s little boys (3 and 6 year old) under their father Imad’s supervision, were really good! I entrusted Shawn with my camera and she was diligent, taking many pictures that remain great memories of an event that will remain an important step of my life.

The ordination takes place when the Moderator of the Presbytery, that would be Rev. Julie Johnson here, lays her hand on the head of the ordinand, at the conclusion of a prayer. Julie invited those already ordained (pastors and Elders) to come, join the prayer and also lay their hands on me, or the person next to them if they are out of reach. She also invited everyone involved in my journey to join the group. Almost the whole assembly gathered around us.

An image and emotion I will not forget. 

Good Bye Tashina

This was completely unexpected. We thought she would live at least 15 years. When we noticed that Tashina, our 11-year old pup, was a bit slow to climb the stairs and was less upbeat than usual, we thought it might be arthritis. 

But the vet diagnosed a big cancerous tumor in her stomach. We were crushed.

Tashina lived a few more comfortable days, thanks to a pain-killer. I cooked some tasty, easy to digest, meals for my girl who still had some appetite. Then we said farewell to our companion of so many days as she was getting close to her end.

It happened on the Christmas week.

God Made the earth, the sky and the water, the moon and the sun, says a Native American saying. He made man and bird and beast.

But He didn't make the dog. He already had one.

Galloping fall season: looking at it from the end up

So many events and emotions took place those last weeks. 2014 is ending and our neighbors fireworks can already be heard in the night, which brings intense joys to Sitka, our weird dog who panics when I sneeze but loves to run after explosive sounds in the dark…

To share the main events of the season, I will go from the most recent and will go back in time.

So long, 2014…. So many memorable events happened during this year. Including : (see above)