Hugging

We leave Friday morning for Guatemala and that means I probably won’t be posting next Wednesday but it also means something so much better-- for me, at least: I’ll get to see friends I haven’t seen in almost a year. And at the top of my list of things I’m looking forward to in Guatemala is a hug from Miriam Leon.

Miriam is a little shorter than me (this is hard to achieve) but she gives those hugs that just wrap themselves around you. She adds a little dance to it and we both end up hopping up and down, swaying side to side and circling around while holding each other. It’s the kind of hug that makes me smile to just think about it.

I am a hugger. I’m a militant, kama kazi style, unapologetic hugger. During the Passing of the Peace in Church where some shake hands with each other, I invariably hug. I’m lucky to have reached an age where gray hair buys me a lot of leeway, including the ability to hug anyone, anytime, anywhere and not be accused of anything but friendliness.

I have always been pretty much this way. I can remember vividly the day I tried on my wedding dress for the first fitting and asking only one question: would I have enough room to move my arms above my chest and hug anyone I wanted?

One of the reasons I love my husband is that he is perfect hugging height for me. I don’t have to stand on tiptoe or make him lean over.

I discovered hugging as a theological act a couple of years ago and I haven’t been the same since.

I was leaving Pearlington, Mississippi to return home after spending four months working on Hurricane Katrina recovery. I went to say good-bye to friends, very special friends at the Missionary Baptist Church where they had fed us a hot lunch every day (really every day since the recovery first began in September of 2005.) The hardest goodbyes were for Rev and Mrs. Rawls. And Mrs. Rawls gave me a short hug and held me out to get a good look at me. “Why don’t you just stay?” she asked in her gentle voice. I told her I had grandbabies back home and she understood. But then she took me in her arms and I felt her hug all over my body. I felt it on my head, my back, my legs, my arms—it was as though I was totally enveloped. I started to break away but she held me and, for once in my life I had the good sense to just stand there and let her hold me. I will never, ever in my life forget that feeling. It was as though Christ had borrowed Idella Rawl’s arms and held me Himself.

Over the next few months as I remembered how good that hug felt I realized it really was a hug from Jesus.

A few months later I found myself in a tense meeting that included a man who was un-churched. At the end of the contentious meeting I felt the need to break the tension. I grabbed this guy and gave him a big old hug out of my own need for reassurance as much as anything. But then, the next time I met this man he reached out for a hug from me. I realized it had helped him in some way. So I wondered if I could do the same trick for him that Mrs. Rawls had done for me. I tried my best to “channel” Jesus when I hugged him from then on. And it must have worked because that young man never again met me or left me without asking for a hug.

When I was at Synod Youth Workshop last week I sent about 200 or so kids off on a prayer walk through the labyrinth. And every single one of them got a hug from me, mostly because I’m one to assume, “when in doubt, hug.” Some of the boys were in the tiptoe category. That makes for less than perfect hugs. But, on the whole, hugs are just about the best way to express love and affection to just about anyone.

On the last day we had the labyrinth available, Drew Travis, the keynote speaker mentioned that we should meet every person’s eyes as though it was Christ himself looking back. And we should let Christ work through us. Then I remembered Mrs. Rawls’ hug. And how much Shelby seemed to enjoy my hugs in Gulfport.

So I started putting more “Jesus” into my labyrinth hugs and tried to convey the love of Christ to every person I touched. I’ll never know how it felt to the other person. I guess I could ask them. But maybe it’s best left alone. I don’t want a report card on my spiritual exercises.

But it’s starting to become a habit with me. Not the hugging part—it was already a habit, but the putting “Jesus” into the hug. I don't have any guarantees of whether this will change the world but it sure can't hurt anything. Maybe the person it will change will be me.

Check back in two weeks. I never did get the rest of the synod videos to download here. But when I get back I’ll have even better ones from Guatemala to show you. And, for sure, a picture of Miriam Leon.

SYW 09 Recap

I've got three more videos that I want to post but it's not working right now. I'll put a note on facebook when it's ready.

I might have overestimated the amount of free time I had to post to the blog last week because, obviously it didn't happen. In short, I had no free time at all. But now I do. Let me kind of walk you through the week. It's all videos so I hope your computer can download them. I didn't take as many still shots this year. Technology is getting so much better each year that I forget the old.

I was exposed to so much state of the art technology that I decided around Wednesday that I wanted an iPhone. Not only did half the camp have them, Caressa Holloman used hers for just about every conceivable task, including watching the weather radar when a thunderstorm popped up in the middle of the shaving cream fight. The radar showed the storm to be moving to the side of us, not toward us, so we were able to let the kids stay outside in spite of a dramatic show of lightning in the distance. Caressa told me I could even put spreadsheets on an iPhone and I was hooked. But on Friday Cam's iPhone crashed.

Cam Dean was the camp nurse except she can't call herself that since she's not licensed in the state of Oklahoma so she's just the "first-aider." Without a phone nobody could get in touch with her if anybody broke a leg like they've done in the past. Over the years we've had just about every medical emergency at this event except the one thing Cam specializes in: labor and delivery. (Thank God) But when Cam finally found an Apple store to talk to them about her phone they tried to give her an "appointment" for the following week. She ended up posting a note on our door to call Jane if they needed her and buying an iPhone moved back down on my list of things I wanted to do anytime soon.

So, here's our week: If this doesn't want to make you be a Presbyterian you're not paying attention.

We had energizers every day before keynote



And again Tuesday night at the mixer.



I'm not sure if it registered with anyone that this was the same room where we set up the labyrinths. We borrowed three canvas labyrinths from different places. Louis Gold's entire small group helped us unfold and lay them out. It was a lot easier this way than in years past when a few staff members had to do this by ourselves.



Here is a video I took last year. Walking the labyrinth is one of the most intense experiences of the whole week and I don't like to intrude with a camera. I took this shot only during the first few moments of a walk and before we dimed the lights.



The youth planning team chose "Transformed Always Transforming" theme for this week back in last September. But apparently they knew to expect the latest Transformers movie to come out this week. Perfect timing. Also a great theme for people (everyone) who live within the process of becoming who God made them to be. Then they also picked "Dare You to Move" as a theme song for the week:

(video of planning team singing here)

And MOVE they did. There were games galore. We had an afternoon of games outside that was in addition to all the other games being played indoors in small groups.



Our keynote speaker was the pastor of a church in Conway, Arkansas, Drew Travis. Drew was also a folk singer with an extraordinary voice and I'm afraid my camera was out of focus but I wanted you to hear a bit of a song he wrote. He sang it only once which was a shame because it would have made a perfect benediction:

(video of Drew singing goes here)

These videos only give you a taste of how much fun and how meaningful the week was. But the best moment of the whole week was to come Thursday evening after the Variety Show and I was so blown away that it never occurred to me to take pictures.

We had outdoor vespers that night. We sang a couple of quiet songs and were feeling very mellow and Jesus-y.

(video of Kyrie)

After we sang there was a quiet pause when all were lost in their thoughts. We sat there surrounded on all sides by tall buildings made of stone. The stone made for some grand acoustics.

Then we heard bagpipes playing "Amazing Grace." There's not a sound in the world that can beat that sound. But it soon dawned on us that even with the great acoustics and a good sound system this was just too magnificent for a recording. We looked at the planning team in the center. They were just as puzzled as the rest of us. Then out from behind one of the buildings stepped a lone bagpiper. All we could make out was a dim silhouette. You couldn't make out details like the face but I could swear he was wearing a kilt. It was one of the most magical moments I've ever witnessed. My chillbumps had chillbumps.

As soon as the last notes of the song reverberated off the buildings surrounding us, he stepped back into the shadows. There was total silence for a long time after that. I forget how we ended vespers that night; it was such an awesome moment there was nothing afterwards that could register on the memory bank. We quietly walked to the dorms. Some folks wondered who it was. Some offered names of who they thought it was. Personally, I didn't want to know anything. Facts would only take away from the sheer magic of the moment.

I had a transforming moment of my own. Part of my responsibilities last week was running the labyrinth. I had to locate and reserve three labyrinths big enough to get 400 people through them in three day's time. Then I had to schedule it all. But part of the job was also sending each kid off on this journey. This was more than just a walk around the room. It was a journey into their relationship with God. Usually we manage it so that their small group leader comes off the canvas first so they will be there to receive each kid as they come off. This is one of the most intense times of the week and the kids are especially vulnerable when they walk off the canvas. We use about six boxes of Kleenex for these times.

When we were planning the labyrinths this year someone had suggested I anoint them with oil as they entered their prayer time. This was a new concept to me so I asked my pastor about it. Anne explained that this was an ancient practice to bless someone. Psalm 23 comes to mind. Some people use baby oil but Anne likes to use olive oil because she says that's probably what Jesus used. I looked it all up in the Old Testament and sure enough, they spent a lot of time anointing people. I still worried that I was going to freak the kids out, who I expected to be sensitive about yet more oil on their foreheads. But I asked around and was assured they would all be OK with this and I could offer the option to refuse the oil if need be.

So, armed with a tiny plastic vial of olive oil I preceded to anoint over half the kids there. Cam shared this job with me when she wasn't making a run to the ER with a broken thumb or scratched cornea. We finished Friday morning then folded and packed away the canvases and made room for the dance that night. But I couldn't look at the kids in the same way after that. They weren't just random teenagers. I had marked the sign of the cross on them with my own thumb. This gave me more than a passing relationship with them, even when I didn't remember who each one was or could connect names to faces. I realized that I had been transformed myself by the experience.

Synod Youth Workshop 2009

Updates as they happen: Most recent first. But I'm still thinking and this may not gel for a while. I'm still not finished.

I was about to describe our evening's vespers in eloquent words....the air, the quiet, the music. However, by rooming with the camp nurse we have now acquired a couple of patients in our room and I'm having to empty our trash so we'll have a barf bucket. More later when there's more serenity

Happy Birthday John Calvin!

Now that we have Michael Jackson buried it’s time to turn to more important things like where my next sugar fix is coming from.

We had a great Fourth of July with the usual desserts, which is to say far more than the healthy and sane person needs. I froze the left-over Italian Cream cake (I know you’re a little surprised there was any leftover—I know I was)and then just threw away the banana pudding that Emily declared looked gross.

So now I’m starting to wonder if I might have a tiny little problem with sugar. But I can’t worry about that right now because we have John Calvin’s 500th birthday coming up. Now, how many times do you get to celebrate anyone’s 500th birthday? And I will get to celebrate it in the most awesome way imaginable: in the smack dab middle of the best group of Presbyterians I know.

On Friday I’ll be with about 30 or so of the Synod Youth Workshop staff beginning our orientation weekend. In fact, my next post will be in the midst of that event and I should have some really interesting posts from there so don’t think I’ll be “on vacation” next week.

Naturally when I thought of John Calvin’s 500th birthday I immediately put myself in charge of cake. You can’t let an opportunity like this go by the wayside. The staff will be eating at a restaurant that night so I’ll arrange to pick one up from some thrifty spot like Walmart. This is Jesus’ money we’re spending, and while I’m sure He would approve of a celebration for Calvin, he would also want us to celebrate responsibly, “in moderation,” you might say.

However, after declaring myself Queen of the Calvinists, I realized I really don’t know a thing about this guy. The closest I have ever come to an appreciation of Calvin is the reaction from my father when I tried to date a Jewish guy in high school. Daddy very quietly let me know that I was “a Scotch Presbyterian and always would be.” And that was the end of THAT discussion.

So I got out the “C” volume of the encyclopedia and read up a little. He was born on July 10, 1509. (What flavor of cake do you think?) He was born in France (maybe something French? Pastries?) In 1536 he published Institutes of Christian Religion which became a masterpiece of Reformation literature. (even today I can go to Guatemala and find Calvin’s Institutes in a pastors study translated into Spanish.) He was a great influence on the English Protestants, also called the Puritans . Among his groundbreaking new theories was the separation of church and state (in other words, we don’t have to share our cake with police or fire fighters we meet that night) , and the right of people to change their own government, hence the nickname of the American Revolution as the “Presbyterian Revolt.” So those fireworks you saw last Saturday night were for us Presbyterians.

Calvin joined other Reformation leaders in their basic theories such as Faith over Works, the bible as the basis of all Christian teachings, the priesthood of all believers, and salvation by grace alone.

The encyclopedia says no other reformer did so much to force people to think about Christian social ethics. This means that we can get the best chocolate cake sold, eat it with gusto but share it with the wait staff at the restaurant. Being ethical and all.

Here’s to the Church Reformed, Always Reforming. Or, as we can expect to say many times this weekend, “Transformed, Always Transforming.”

Yea Calvin, you go brother! (Can I have your piece of cake?)