Day Trip

We left our sandy little Enclave early this morning to take a long bus ride to a pretty impressive historic site. It turns out that the forecast was for rain (don't know if it really did), so perhaps it was a fortuitous departure.

Whatever the reason, we rode and rode, and then walked and walked, and listened to our very earnest and enthusiastic Mayan guide tell us all about the significance of just about everything we encountered. I kid you not, you could spend a couple of weeks inside this place and not see everything. It's incredible.

We were treated to lessons in the Mayan language, the reason for the incredible echo capabilities, all of the symbolism of jaguars, eagles, serpents and other animals. "The missionaries thought we were savages," he said, "But look what we created."

On the bus were vacationers from all over the world, speaking all manner of languages. Our guide stuck to Spanish and English, and I marvelled. We struck up a conversation with a couple from London. I even ended up writing two pages of recommendations for sites they should see, if they ever make it to Minnesota, or to the Southwest. They are old-movie aficionados, and asked both of us if we were stranded on a desert island, what three movies would we bring? (His answers were: Twelve Angry Men, Sparticus, and West Side Story.) Not a bad question.

There are times when I am in a new place, and I feel a certain kinship. Paris was like that. Even not knowing the language, I felt envious, like this was the kind of place that I could stay -- if only I knew how. And there are places that, even while enjoying the time I spend there, I am so aware that I am a stranger. This place is like that. I sit here in the warm weather, and I think, 'What kind of person spends their vacations this way?' and then I reply to myself, almost scolding, 'Well, you are spending your vacation this way, aren't you?' But it doesn't quite feel like me.

When I was about eight years old, I was visiting my grandparents in southwestern Minnesota. The farm and the small town was like a second home to me; my grandpa liked to take these meandering "drives" around the countryside, although it all seemed pretty familiar; we were going to the same places every day. Then one afternoon, he turned south and drove for a few miles. He turned to me in a moment, and said, "We're in Iowa, now."

I thought something must be wrong. Didn't we need passports to go to Iowa? Would they come and arrest us?

"Go back! Go back!" I commanded, with absolutely no sense of adventure. And he did.

In a day or so, we'll go back, and again be an exile in a familiar land, where I seem to know the language, and think I am at home. But I'm not at home, not really, not there. It's true, there are things that comfort me, and things that remind me of my True Home, and there are other things that lull me into complacency.

So it is that there are always two voices inside me, and one says: "Go back! Go back!" and the other says, "Forge ahead!" And it seems to me that at the same time, both of these voices are mistaken -- and both of them are right.

A List I'm making on vacation

I usually don't make lists on vacation, but here's an exception:

Some things I want to do someday (some sooner/some later):

1. Go to the Revgals Event in April (if it is still possible)
2. Do a retreat at the Benedictine Center in St. Paul.
3. Take a summer writing class in Iowa City someday (I have wanted to do this for many years)
4. Go on sabbatical (right now, I'm thinking that my sabbatical theme might be Art and Spirituality, especially looking at folk art, things like the medieval books of Hours, Santeros, and other things. What do you think?)
5. Go to one of those camps where dogs and their people can go together and learn and have fun. (Has anyone here heard of them?)
6. Go back to Paris, and/or go to London (maybe the fast trip like last year, with lots of down time).
7. Publish a memoir, or a book of reflections.

Right now we are still on the little break. We just got back from swimming. We have massages later today. We thought we had made the appontment for yesterday, but were mistaken. We've otherwise just been relaxing and reading and I've been trying (without much success) to write a little. I have a little half-done poem that I'm working on.

Good news: the sweater we thought we had lost at the YMCA has now been found. Bad news: it's raining. But maybe that's not such bad news? It is March, after all.

I'm not being totally successful at forgetting about work. But I'm dreaming, a little, and that's a good thing.

Reflections on the Year

I can't believe that 2009 is only three days away. 2008 was my first full year of blogging; it was also the year I discovered facebook, something I am ambivalent about. The year held its share of ambivalent moments, as well as memorable times and disappointments. Here are a few:

Memorable:
1. We'll always have Paris. Even though we were there only three days, the trip was worth every moment, from the first-class seating on the trip over, to the little Parisian hotel 5 minutes from the Louvre, to Notre Dame Cathedral, sidewalk cafes and the Seine.
2. This year I embarked on a journey to organize people in my congregation around the issue of education. We organized a community forum in September; we're still working on our next steps. It's challenging, but I believe that we are on the threshold of some good possibilities for becoming a church that really lives the gospel.
3. The Festival of Homiletics in my town in May. I got to meet a lot of Revgals and hear a lot of good preaching. I don't think I can go next year, but I'm sure I'll put it on my regular agenda to go from now on.
4. I took some risks in posts about community organizing, immigration and racism.
5. I started therapy.

Disappointing:
1. I did not read as much as I would have liked to.
2. I haven't gotten anything published yet. Clearly, I need some sort of writing group, and to develop goals.
3. Scout "flunked" agility.
4. I didn't get and implement a creative and/or brilliant new ministry idea this year. I still think I need to take more risks.
5. Two dog-friends died this year. I was very attached to them.
6. I have been having trouble keeping up with the blogs lately.

Ambivalent:
1. facebook. On the one hand, I have gotten in touch with people I haven't seen in years. On the other hand, it is a huge black hole and waste of time sometimes.
2. The financial situation at the church. On the one hand, it's a scary budget deficit. On the other hand, the situation contains possibilities for our congregation to begin to be honest about what it means to be a faithful community of disciples of Jesus at this time and in this place.
3. Though I took risks in my writing, I still think I need to be bolder in what I write -- without compromising others' privacy or anonymity, of course.
4. I have not posted so much about the "big events", whether tragedy or success: Mumbai, flooding in Iowa, the election, housing and economic crisis. I'm not sure what I think about that.

So: what are your high and low points of the year? What are you ambivalent about?

I'm considering linking to what I consider to me my top ten posts of the year....

The Accidental Pilgrim

.... that's what my sermon title should have been this morning. And I admit, in some ways it turned out to be a shameless excuse to talk about our trip to Paris. I "used" the Isaiah text to talk about the invitations that God extends to us, to come and eat, to see the world in a new way (a place of abundance) to live in the world in a new way (sharing with others and connected to others).

I told a story about seeing the same DK Paris guidebook everywhere we went, only in different languages. And about one time in particular that I saw that guidebook at the table next to ours at a sidewalk cafe. I also recognized the letters on the front cover, and turned to my husband and whispered, "They're from Greece." (I knew that that New Testament Greek study would have more uses!) I didn't think any more about it until we got up to leave. The couple moved their guidebook out of the way so that my husband could get out, and he turned and said to them "Thank you" -- in Greek. (He told me he learned it from a grocery bag.)

That last line got a big laugh because there is a local grocery store here that has the words "Thank you" printed on all of their grocery bags, in many different languages. The closest store to us is managed by our of our congregation's leaders. I was kind of hoping that he would be at church today, but he was working.

Immediately after the service, a church member whispered in my ear, "Guess where I'm going this week!" PARIS. She asked if she could borrow our guidebook. I said, "Oui."

Then I stopped at the grocery store, where I needed to buy lunch ingredients, and I was kind of hoping to run into the manager, for obvious reasons. Often on Sundays, there are many food samples in the store, and today, among other things, there was CAKE. I told the young woman who offered me a small piece of cake that I just couldn't, as I had cheesecake at church in the morning.

"What church do you go to?" she asked.

It's true, we had cheesecake on sticks this morning. A young couple is using our church kitchen to start up a cheesecake business, and made these as a sort of a gift and a promotion for us this morning. A little more upscale than your usual donut holes.

Meanwhile, I didn't find the store manager, but relayed my grocery bag story to the people who were checking and bagging my groceries. (Yes, this store still bags groceries for you.) The bagger helped me carry the groceries to my car, pointed to my collar and asked, "Are you a pastor?" After I answered in the affirmative, she asked what kind of church I was at, and then, more boldly -- just how does a person go about finding a church? I said it would be good to try a few different churches (not neglecting my own, of course), and that she could ask any questions she wanted after she had visited.

I hope you had a blessed, restful, delicious Sunday.

Anniversary in Paris

Actually, today is our anniversary (#9), but my husband tells me to tell everyone, "We went to Paris for our anniversary."So, that is what I am doing.

However, tonight we did go out to a nice restaurant, Lord Fletcher's on the ritzy shores of Lake Minnetonka. We sat by a window and watched the motorboats go by.

I had walleye. (I had to say that, because I have heard that it is a fish unknown outside of Minnesota. However, it is delicious!)

Have a romantic evening -- on me!

Words Fail Me...

We have actually been back from Paris since late Tuesday night. It was a short trip, I know: too short, you'll say, but as I keep telling myself, better than not going at all.

It was wonderful. It's hard to know where to begin. I could write a travelogue, detailing our minute-to-minute activities, but I'm not sure anyone would find that very interesting. I don't want to bore anyone, because our trip was anything but boring. I've had a hard time writing anything; I don't seem to be able to do justice to the experience.

However, to begin, just a few tidbits:

Saturday: we got in early morning; rode the RER with an American woman and her three children. She taught me how to say "Tuileries", which was our Metro stop, and the only word of French I knew how to pronounce. We dropped our luggage at our small, old, charming hotel, where the concierge greeted my husband personally ("How did you know?" "Only American name"), and had every intention of walking up to Notre Dame, but stopped at the Louvre, just to check, and ended up going in. We spent most of the morning in the "Denon" section, where we saw the Mona Lisa and scads of other paintings. Took a long nap in the afternoon (having not slept at all on the plane), and got up to walk down to the Champs-Elysees. Had wine, cheese and bread at a sidewalk cafe, wondering about what a lovely evening it was.

Sunday: Woke up with a start at 9:00 a.m. Almost didn't make it to the hotel breakfast. We walked up to Notre Dame in time for the late Mass. We were actually not there for the Mass, but as we walked around with all the other tourists, we noticed a choir filing in, and listened for their anthem. The liturgist chanted the verses in French, but we kept hearing the congregational refrain, and recognized the words, "Jubilate Deo." Our eyes grew wet. Then the priest began his homily, and he opened with a few words in english, words of welcome to tourists, and a hope that by attending the mass we would be transformed from tourists into pilgrims. Yes. We later wandered along the Seine, back and forth over bridges, listening to music, watching artists, peeking at used books on the stalls on the street. We took a boat ride and wandered around the Latin Quarter, where we had supper.

Monday: We went to the Eiffel Tower, and back to the Louvre for a little while. We walked up and down Rue de Rivoli. We tried to go up near the Moulin Rouge area, but my feet were hurting so much I couldn't stand the walk. Plus Husband discovered that he left his Paris guidebook back at a bookshop on the Rue de Rivoli, a famous English bookstore, with better selection than some of ours.

Regrets: We meant to return to the Crypt at Notre Dame; what happened? And while in the Latin Quarter, why did we not go to the Pantheon?

More reflection later...

A Snapshot of Paris... with no words, for now

Just A New Purse

"Beware of enterprises which require new clothes." --Henry David Thoreau

In preparing for our short but exciting trip to Paris, I decided I needed a new purse. I usually carry a very small purse (on the advice of my doctor). But I wanted something of a lightweight fabric and slightly bigger, so I could fit a book and my new camera in it, and take them on the plane.

I don't go to department stores much any more. I go to the bookstore slightly more than I should (especially when I have gift cards), and I look in the window of one favorite dress shop on occasion. But I don't go to department stores much any more. I had a store credit though, so I thought it was the most economical idea.

I had a pretty good idea about what kind of purse I was looking for and found an acceptable one quickly. It was a new model LeSportsSac. everyday bag. What do you think?

What surprised me was how tempting it was to keep looking around. There were so many bags and purses in beautiful colors; there were many different brands of "green sacks"; there was the cosmetics counter, with women getting eye liner and blush applied; there was the jewelry counter (I've always had a weakness for earrings.) There was something seductive about the lights and the sparkles and the colors of the displays. I didn't need any of it, really; but I found myself kind of wanting this handbag or that pair of earrings.

What temptations a trip to Paris can bring on!