Two years ago my daughter signed a contract to write her first book, and quit her day job to spend full time writing. Of course I was as proud as I could be, and I spent an inordinate amount of time bragging.  My friends were very patient with me.

I’ve told my daughter that I believe that God’s call on her life was to write about food and fellowship and friends and family.  After all, didn’t Frederick Buencher write,  The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet?  (Wishful Thinking: A Seeker’s ABC)

Her book came out this fall and its success is as much as I imagined it would be–and more. Several national periodicals chose it as one of the top ten cookbooks of the year, and yesterday, as she and I were on our way to lunch, she discovered that a the book had been nominated by a prestigious organization for a national award.

My daughter’s stories of food and home touch a common spot in all of our hearts.  The connection of favorite foods to familiar places with people we love is a universal hunger.  Eating is essential to life–and not only physically but emotionally and spiritually, too.

I suspect that’s why Jesus seemed to always be on his way to and from a meal.  Think eating with tax collectors and sinners.  Think feeding thousands of folk at a time.

I suspect that’s why Jesus chose as his final activity on the night before he died to share a meal with the beloved men who had walked with him as disciples for three or so years.  It’s why he told them to eat the meal again and again to remember him.  It’s why we’re told specifically about the meals he served or ate after his resurrection, and the time that his disciples knew him in the breaking of a loaf of table bread.

We are all hungry for good food with good fellowship.  I believe that hunger is rooted in our hunger for communion with the God of love. I believe that every time we sit with folks we love to eat a meal that Christ is indeed there–whether we ever know it or not.  My daughter’s book reminds me of those common communions.  I believe its success is because it touches others in the same way.  Yes, I am proud of my daughter indeed.

One of the things I do to stay healthy is to make greeting cards.  My best friend and I started card-making together over fifteen years ago when she still lived in Houston.  Even though she now lives in Georgia, we still plan trips that will have card-making as a planned activity.  Every Advent we go to New Mexico for a week and make Advent (not Christmas!) cards.  Every Lent we go to Tybee Island, Georgia, and make Lent (not Easter!) cards.  Being a priest, I do love to be liturgically correct.

When she lived in Houston, my friend and I  made cards regularly. Since she moved to Georgia, my card-making is more haphazard.  It has dropped off now that I usually have to create cards all on my own. God knew what God was doing when God created us to live in community!

Making cards is a kind of therapy. Last summer we were on a trip and one of us was feeling grumpy.  We had a great idea to create some everyday cards.  The process of creating something, especially something beautiful, to give to someone else, is one of the best ways to move from a cranky place to one of peace and joy.  But of course, creating is part of being made in the image of God, the Great Creator.  But of course, Jesus did say to love our neighbor, and what neighbor doesn’t love receiving a beautiful handmade card? (Okay, there was a person once at church who said not to bother her with a card, but that’s another blog.)

My best friend came over for a couple of days at the end of January with two purposes:  to see all the movies we wanted to see in preparation for the Oscars and to make Valentines.  In two days we packed in three movies and a stack of Valentines (though, I must admit, some of mine are waiting for their stamps and will be day or days after Valentines).

This past week I got the privilege of joining with the Commission on Ministry (the group that interviews and discerns the call of those seeking ordination and then makes recommendations to the bishop) to hear the stories of eight men and women. They shared with us the precious and fragile gift of their understanding of their call to the priesthood.  It was a holy time.

One of the conversations we always have with those seeking holy orders is about their relationship with the Triune God, and most specifically, with God the Son, Jesus the Christ.  I am always struck by how easy, or how challenging it is, for folks to do this–particularly because they have discerned a call to serve in ordained leadership in Christ’s very Body, the Church.  How can we preach and proclaim the Gospel if we can’t talk about Jesus?

In my preparation for preaching this week, I read a commentary (Feasting on the Word) written on the Sunday Gospel by Lee Barrett.  Lee wrote, “Jesus is the presence of the tranformative power of God.”

One way of teasing out who Jesus is for me is to look at my life and see where it has been transformed by the power of God.  This is the place that proclaims who Jesus is to me.  For me.  With me.

Where has Jesus transformed your life?  Who is the Jesus your life proclaims?

 

The knitting of the sixty stars for the Sixty Star Project has gone quicker than the giving of the stars. I have my master list of people who have influenced my life in profound and essential ways, with some empty spaces yet to fill as I continue to ponder and honor those folks who have helped me become me.  The giving of the stars has taken time because I want to give my loved one his or her star at a moment is which we have an opportunity to savor the gift of our relationship.