Another day of grace...

Today was another one of those days in the pastoral ministry that is full to overflowing with ordinary things that also point towards grace:

+ Holy Communion first thing in the morning with an old, old woman who has lived through more heart break and wounds than I can ever imagine, but who is also so loving and tender to everyone she meets that it almost breaks my heart. She adores breaking bread and sharing the cup with me - saying the Lord's Prayer, too - and it is a treasure to enter her humble home because I find that I am strengthened by her quiet and time-tested faith in ways that defy explanation.

+ Then it was off to making Memorial Service plans with another quiet saint whose beloved of 57 years died the day after Thanksgiving. Her daughter reminded me that "mom" has also lost a brother and sister to death in the past six months, too, and yet she is pulling everyone together in this hard time. What a privilege it is to share her humor and her tears. Being with her in this makes me realize that I am looking forward to celebrating the life of her faithful and creative husband next week as the scattered family returns to the old Massachusetts homestead one more time. (Our conversation also made me think of this brilliant moment in "Shadowlands" in which Anthony Hopkins' C.S. Lewis evokes what it feels like to know the depth of such a loss so profoundly.)

+ As the day passed there were administrative duties about stewardship drives and bulletins, mailings and the daily grind of keeping the church moving forward to address. Laughter and weird stories with volunteers and staff, too. There were even a few random visits from people stopping in mostly for a word of encouragement.

+ The afternoon progressed into an insightful conversation with the moderator of the congregation - a woman of depth and conviction who always inspires me with her sensitive presence even when life itself is hard - and I find I look forward to our talks greatly. Then I was off to carpooling and doctor's appointments (my car had a flat tire today) and finally a meeting with a young couple seeking baptism for their new son. Emails and returned phone calls and finally dinner with my lover (who went to bed at 8 pm because she is bone tired) brought the day to a close with a sense of gratitude.

Now these little things - very ordinary - are increasingly filled with hints that point me towards God's grace. They are, in fact, what has kept me committed to this peculiar type of ministry over all the ups and downs. You see, more often than not, nothing BIG happens: someone holds my hand, I share an idea or prayer, maybe a laugh or a tear, and a few good hearted people walk with me to visit someone who is lonely but nobody else knows.

In many ways it is more a ministry of presence than accomplishments. And yet what I have found over almost 30 years is that it is in these little moments that I am nourished by God. It is rarely a feast - almost never a sacred smorgasbord - but more like a simple tea that cumulatively fills me to overflowing. What a blessing. (This Joni Mitchell has always spoken to me of ministry when it is real... and I still love it after all these years.)