A Christmas story of sorts...
I could update you on how things are going in NC, but I think I will do that later- except to say that today was a gorgeous day and I am glad to have been able to spend part of it outside hanging with my friend Susie. However, I thought I would tell you a Christmas story of sorts, or really, a part of my story, instead.
This is a story that begins 16 years ago or so. When I was in high school, I served on the New Hope Presbytery Youth Council and helped lead retreats for middle school and high school youth. I loved this a lot. So many of those people affected my life in such positive ways and I am grateful for all the opportunities and experiences and people I met during those days. It was in doing this Youth Council thing, that I began to understand my calling. I think in some ways, I have always felt called to the church, but it was there at those retreats when I began to understand it, even realize that it was something I could do- anyways, at one of those retreats we had a man named Roger Nishokia keynote the conference. For those of you who do not know Roger- he used to work for GA in the PC(USA) as the head youth honcho guy- he was big time- he still is, but now he is a professor at Columbia Seminary in Georgia (and written several books on Youth Ministry) (as a further aside, Steve Lindsey did music at that retreat- Steve is now a pastor in Maybury aka Mount Airy, NC)...
Anyways- Roger has many gifts, one of them is in story telling and making young people, like I was at the time, believe in themselves, to see that life has possibilities, that they had value and worth. As a way to encourage, and perhaps open up worship to us in a new way, throughout the weekend (there were 3 keynotes and a worship service amongst other things) as we worked through the theme of the weekend, after each keynote we were given stoles to work on. By that I mean, he introduced us to a stole- (a pix will be below) and what it meant. He explained that people wear stoles as a sign of service and being yoked to Christ. Typically, we see them in worship, most pastors (at least in our denomination) wear them in worship- but in this, introduced us to the idea of servant leadership. After each keynote, when we were in small groups we were given a stole to work on. Our stoles were nothing more than a part of a sheet that had been cut into strips, one for every person there- and after each keynote we were given markers to draw/write images that spoke to us in regards to the theme of that talk or Scripture that we working on. At the end of the retreat, as with every retreat, we closed in worship. Each person wearing his or her individualized stole and we worshiped God mindful of these pieces of cloth around our necks and on our shoulders. It was a simple gift. I still have it in a box upstairs in my mother's attic, along with countless other memory type souvenirs of those days long ago when I was a part of the Youth Council. This was my first stole.
Fast forward to 2006. I had been accepted to seminary, this sense of call, well-formed within me, I took a group of kids and adults to Belize to do a mission trip. Our guide (if you will) another pastor friend who collected stoles. This is where my collection began too. I thought that this symbol/token of servant hood is something that can appear so different, so colorful, is something I want to do to. So, when we were at Xanatunich, a Mayan site, we went up to some Mayans, and I purchased several stoles of different colors, all had been hand-woven by these women. My collection began (also gave a couple of them to other pastor friends). Since then, I have bought some when they were on sale, and even wound up making my whole group in Indonesia last January travel to the head office of the Balinese Protestant church so I could purchase a stole there- 300,000 Indonesian dollars- anyways, it's not a huge collection, but I like it, I like representing the body of Christ from around the world when I preach on Sundays when I wear the same stole that all the pastors in Bali are wearing or one that was woven by a women in a developing country. I like the connectivity/ inclusiveness of it.
This, however long-winded in my telling brings me to the Christmas story part. A couple of months ago I went to Sorghum Days in Wewoka, OK hoping in part, to meet a person who could make a Seminole Indian inspired stole. I mentioned this in passing to one of the members of Cheyarha Pres, and that was it- I didn't think much more of that comment and didn't meet anyone that day who was close by to commission the work from. Well, on Christmas Eve I get a phone call to stop by this women's house on the way to my first ever led Christmas Eve service. She doesn't tell me why, I didn't ask, I just went. She hands me a gift, as she is busy entertaining family and the phone was ringing, I was only there 15 seconds or so, I mouthed thank-you and left. Well, there still is enough of a child in me, that as soon as I got into the car, I opened the bag, and lo and behold, a stole, with Seminole patchwork. White, which just happened to be the liturgical color for Christmas (I don't even know if she considered that) that she had made for me.
It is perhaps one of the coolest gifts I have ever gotten. My Christmas stole. Made with love by a women whose life emulates this very servant leadership that I was introduced half a life time ago. So I thought I would share this story with you, for the simple fact that it is moments like these that touch my heart, remind me of what it means to be called and reminds me who I am.
Here is a picture of my beautiful stole.
Thanks Juanita! And thank you everyone for all your love and support this year and in all the years! God's blessings to you in 2009!
Today was a good day here too. The weather was quite beautiful and in the midday the town of Wewoka dedicated the municipal courthouse to the memory of John Lively and had a nice reception following in the town's library.
Anyways- hope you are all well, C
After that I stuck around for the parade and to see what the festival was all about. I tried sorghum for the first time, warmed and on fried bread- which is an Indian version of a pancake sort of- I don't know- the bread was good, the sorghum, not so much. It was a nice little festival with demonstrations of frontier living and Native American heritage. I am glad to have been a part of it, despite being sore the rest of the day. Yesterday church went well and in the evening I decided to go see a movie- and since I saw Max Pane last week, my other choice was HSM3. It was cute, cheesy, very well choreographed- those kids can dance- and very Disney, not a bad way to spend a Sunday night I guess....
Top picture is the reflecting pool that used to be a road by the federal building. The second are individually cast bronze chairs that stand for the people who died, in the place where the building once stood. And finally, a beautiful statue of Jesus weeping across the street.
church above... banner in English and Seminole below (hangs inside the church), house below that
