Dust to Dust

Last week a number of us at Two Rivers gathered at St. Andrew’s for an Ash Wednesday liturgy. I had the honour of greeting people at the door, inviting them to sit in the dimly lit sanctuary without speaking as gentle choral music played. It was moving for me to see people arriving from different parts of the city, slowly trickling in from the North, South, East and West.

Beautiful lovely people taking time out of their busy week and possibly hectic day, to reflect on their mortality and receive the imposition of ashes. Fran and Kristen, Tracey and Tricia, remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.

The symbol of the cross, marked in ashes on our foreheads, a stark reminder that each of us given a life to live must eventually die. Randy and Eileen, Sharon and Ellen, we are all in this together.

There is something profound in collectively acknowledging our frailty and woundedness, our weaknesses and limitations, all part of the human experience. Thomas and Elizabeth and Joel and dear, sweet Beth, you are not alone. We are not alone.

God is near to the broken hearted, those bowed down and humbled low.

Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. There is something liberating about those words. It is okay, Dan, to make mistakes, all my feeble attempts to love and be loved. All of our attempts to find meaning and make sense of this world. So much mystery, so much out of our control. All of us, just trying our best to make our way through life; Handsome Jim and capable Irene, you are enough and will be enough.

The ashes on our foreheads are created from the burnt palms of a previous Palm Sunday. An invitation to embrace beginnings and endings, rhythms of nature, and liturgical seasons. Life with its times of dreaming and creating, releasing and surrendering, so fleeting, yet glorious: each day, each hour, each moment a gift.

Worshiper or wanderer, the symbol of the cross points us to a deeper reality. Dearest Matthew and Doris and Kathryn and John know that you are marked with love. A love that is with us in our coming and going. A love that enables us to keep humming in the darkness. A love that holds us as we fall asleep and wake again when the sun rises.

I was honoured to welcome my friends that night, and remain honoured to hold these names, and all the others not written here, close to my heart through Lent and beyond.

Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. DV

For Anyone

Some organization out there (I don't know which it is) uses this phrase: 'we may not be for everyone, but, we are for anyone.' Yes! I think that really captures the Two Rivers Church vibe. We are not a conventional church by any stretch of the imagination, but we are exactly what some people need and are looking for.

To name one's community as inclusive is tricky because it seems that so many words these days become tinder to ignite people's immediate categorization of you within their pre-conceived notions. You also set yourself up to be judged on whether you are actually walking the talk (probably not!).

So, let's just say that whether we are achieving the standard we desire or not, I'm happy to claim that our intention is to be 'for anyone'. The only way that you will find out if it's true, is to get to know us. No web-site statement or symbol is a guarantee of anything; it only hints at the beautiful possibility of Jesus in us engaging the whole world in his love and his name. GS

. . . and a Malcolm Guite Sonnet today

An Advent antiphon (one of seven), O Radix, by Malcolm Guite calls on Christ as the root. The poem is referring to the image of the tree of Jesse the family tree which leads to David, and ultimately to Christ as the ‘son of David', but the title radix, goes deeper, as a good root should. It goes deep down into the ground of our being, the good soil of creation. God in Christ, is the root of all goodness, wherever it is found and in whatsoever culture, or with whatever names it fruits and flowers, a sound tree cannot bear bad fruit said Christ, who also said, I am the vine, you are the branches.

O Radix - Malcolm Guite

All of us sprung from one deep-hidden seed,

Rose from a root invisible to all.

We knew the virtues once of every weed,

But, severed from the roots of ritual,

We surf the surface of a wide-screen world

And find no virtue in the virtual.

We shrivel on the edges of a wood

Whose heart we once inhabited in love,

Now we have need of you, forgotten Root

The stock and stem of every living thing

Whom once we worshiped in the sacred grove,

For now is winter, now is withering

Unless we let you root us deep within,

Under the ground of being, graft us in.

Watch The Goodness Project Video — Stories of Our City: Judith Yan

Judith explains how she fell in love with Guelph over the course of her 8 years conducting the Guelph Symphony Orchestra. She also shares a moving experience she had while conducting at the Basilica.

Advent

Maybe more than ever, we need some hope right now; that’s what Advent is about.

It is the reminder that we can benefit from shifting our perspective from the details of survival that fill our gaze, to holding up those details to the light of the coming fulfillment of the kingdom; this puts everything into perspective. Suddenly, we are reminded that there is a glorious reality moving towards us ever so patiently, ever so lovingly, ever so hopefully.

We know something about the fate of the world which is opaque to many, all will be well. GS

Watch The Goodness Project Video — Stories of Our City: Arlene Slocombe

Arlene discusses the work of the Wellington Water Watchers, the unifying potential of water protection and the importance of listening to Indigenous voices.

Accompaniment

I love this word. Maybe because I’m an extrovert? Maybe because I love the Lord of the Rings? Whatever the case, many of us in Two Rivers are connecting with each other on walks these days. While I love a good walk in solitude, I am most happy when accompanied. It doesn't have to be chatty or profound in any measure; simply being in the presence of another reminds me that I am not on my own in this world. The other becomes the conduit of faithful presence, both human and divine.

Sometimes those who accompany us are given and sometimes they are chosen, but, in either case, attention needs to be paid to the space between. What is being nurtured in the (2 metre!) space between? Trust? Assurance? Possibility? Safety? Grace? The Holy Spirit is lavish with these possibilities if we are open to them.

Elton Trueblood once wrote a book called the Company of the Committed. This stirs my imagination, because it is an inspiring picture of the church - people who seek out companionship with others of the same purpose and choose to walk together into God's future. This does not mean conformity or uniformity, rather, a unity with diversity held together by a common calling and a growing understanding of the other. But it won't happen unless we create the space to receive and offer the gift of accompaniment. So, even as the cold air descends, let us keep walking together in the gift of accompaniment. GS

Watch The Goodness Project Video — Stories of Our City: Bob Moore

Bob Moore shares stories of delivery drivers’ generosity, how the city responds to needs, and the importance of creating homes with a supportive community for people without housing.

Minding Your Story

As much as I dislike giving too much attention to what is happening south of the border, I would be remiss in not commenting on the US Election. My reluctance, however, is connected to what I want to say: for many, politics has become their guiding story. People at Two Rivers have heard me opine many times that everyone is looking for a story to makes sense of their lives. There are many competing narratives from which to choose (consuming, sex, competition, etc), but currently politics has become the foundational story for many; a religion of dark fundamentalist behaviour that demonizes at the drop of a hat and finds no nuance or complexity. 

Being faithfully committed to your story is important; that's the way it should be if it is your inspiration and your guide. However, I have no interest in making politics the story that defines my life and behaviour. It is a dimension of life and public responsibility which all citizens should engage, but its capricious nature, temptation to abuse of power, and constant flirtation with false witness leaves me looking for a better story. 

The story that makes sense of my life is the Jesus story. The story of the God who in great love and mercy draws near and becomes our home and our peace, and who becomes the center from which all other things can be engaged. In the Jesus story, we are free to put politics, consumption, sex, competition, and any other contenders into proper perspective and usefulness.

What is your guiding story? What narrative gives your life a ground and grammar from which to live and speak? This very Jesus said that the choice is critical because it is a little bit like choosing what ground you want to build your home upon - one is sand, and the other is rock. When the storms come, you know which one will hold.  GS

Watch The Goodness Project Video — Stories of Our City: Dan Evans

Dan Evans explains the work of the Guelph Neighbourhood Support Coalition and the disconnection he has discovered in the city through his work there. He also mentions the meaningful relationships formed on the streets that often go unnoticed and speaks about several individuals fostering connection in the community.

O Lord, Deliver Us!

I'm not ashamed to own that I need deliverance. It may be considered a sign of weakness; well, it is weakness, because you're admitting you need help. I sat down to pray and said "Lord, deliver us from this pandemic!”. But, I reconsidered that prayer and changed one word, "Lord, deliver us in this pandemic!"

I still fear that if we get out of this too quickly, we will think about how brilliant we are as humans. We will congratulate ourselves on our ingenuity and ability to work our way out of our dilemmas, and stoke the fantasy that we are invincible! There is a humbling that needs to happen right now, something different from anxiety and fear based shrinking of the ego. Rather, a conscious repentance from our arrogance and ignorance and entitlement. This might be what it means to be delivered 'in' the pandemic. Truthfully, I want both, but, for now I'm asking for the latter. O, Lord deliver us in the pandemic. Teach us your way.  

GS

Watch The Goodness Project video — Thin Places: The Hanging Gardens

On Woolwich Street, behind the County of Wellington Courthouse is a beautiful garden characterized by the extensive ivy that crawls along its stone walls. The courthouse buildings were formerly the county jail and the garden was the location of public hangings between the 19th- and early-20th centuries. The song playing in the background is a cover of the song “A Falling Through” by Ray LaMontagne, performed by Sember Wood.