Tension with the "cleverness" of our age...

Today I spent most of my time doing what small town pastors have done for millenia: sharing time, conversation and prayer with ordinary people. I know some clergy hate pastoral visits - and many young people are too busy for a leisurely and mostly unplanned conversation with their minister - but I am convinced it grounds me in reality. It builds trust with those in the congregation, too. What's more, the rhythm of these visits keeps me sane.

Not a lot happens - mostly we talk about one another's health - I do most of the listening. Over time, small truths are shared: my loved one took his life... my oldest son is gay and I've never told anyone... she died of AIDS and her family never visited... there's so much joy in my heart because my honey still loves me! My mentor in ministry, Ray Swartzback, used to tell me: spend at LEAST a few hours every week visiting your people or you'll never nourish trust. Many of these visits are only 45 minutes or less - but almost always they are blessings.

When I finished my last call, I stopped on our back porch and read this poem by Mary Oliver:

I do not live happily or comfortably
with the cleverness of our times.
The talk is all about computers,
the news is all about bombs and blood.
This morning, in the fresh field,
I came upon a hidden nest.
It held four warm, speckled eggs.
I touched them.
Then went away softly,
having felt something more wonderful
than all the electricity of New York City.

I get Ms. Oliver's wisdom on day's like this... and give thanks to God for insights, too.