Priesting the family

Not easy...maybe not recommended...but done.

Today was a combined farewell and baby blessing for my niece and nephew. Keep God in, no religous stuff... no you say it...perhaps the most interesting part was (as always the meeting with paretns and trying to shape a service that will remind those present of God's always opened door and reflect some of the uniqueness of who they're made and who they've made to be - even when it's not acknowledged).

I nearly got through without the tears that had lurked as i wrote...but before that I saw the heads nodding amidst the babys crawling and laughter...not to self some children don't like messy on their hands!!! Messiness of life - the gift of an aunty.

The real gift was the words - some below.

This blessing time today is our attempt
to grasp and celebrate the mystery that is life.
In it we acknowledge that we are not alone,
in it we connect the future and the past,
and we do this for these children, for our families, and for ourselves,

We come from today to this solemn time,
some might say it is sacred, as we are,
with the half remembered prayers and beliefs of our childhood and adolescence
and the stumbling broken half submerged yearning for hope of our adult years.

We come because children are the continuation of the tradition
and the reminder of the power of new life
– even in the midst of despair and dying.
They embody the paradox of life – they are ours yet they are themselves.

So we are here today to acknowledge that we have been blessed.
We want them to know they are a blessing
to those gathered here and to the world we’ve brought them into
teetering as it is between war and peace,
feast and famine, pain and joy.

So now, come, stop, wish, or pray,
that we and they might become a blessing to others.

The first breathing out

Sometimes i feel split in two - the rational part of me which "knows" - read Greek knowing - knows of or about; and the emotional or inner part - which just feels and can know but it's different. It is the inner part of me which causes most problems. Steadfastly refuses to believe that I can do what is asked of me. Tied to identity from the inside rather than the projections of identity from without.

Anyway it was to the inner part that the voice came on Easter Saturday - when i prayed to be brave enough to look in the grave - to see what needed to be truly dead that resurrection would have a new meaning. And as i drove up Woodville Road the voice came - "you are a minister". The movement from that voice on the inside to the outside has been painful - and has fueled the seemingly endless tears about releasing Blacktown. Part of the church has denied that voice - to begin with I was disempowered by that - it has taken till nowto be able to even address it.

All that is by way of an introduction to the words that came out of my mouth last night in a meeting that turned out to be the first breathing out of the new job - you know - the first time you stop holding your breathe to see that they don't like you. I am a minister i said I'm just not ordained - it's still ministry. Oh I'm not there yet - the lack of reconition causes tears even as I write this but the inside came out in the new role - that's the breathing out. Now i just need to keep breathing.

The Lord will keep your going in and your coming out from this time on and forevermore. Ps 121:8