In case you were wondering what pastors do to unwind after Easter. . .
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
He Is Risen, Indeed!
So far behind on blogging, it's not even funny, but for now, enjoy this picture of our Easter garden (complete with empty tomb)!
Also, belated props to the Milton High School Drama Department for their excellent production of Beauty and the Beast this past weekend!
Also, belated props to the Milton High School Drama Department for their excellent production of Beauty and the Beast this past weekend!
Thursday, April 9, 2009
A Night Unlike Any Other Night
Maunday Thursday is one of my favorite services of the whole church year, it is such a bummer to me that more people don't come out for it. Especially this year, when I've been preaching a sermon series through all of Lent, basically running through the whole history of humanity's relationship with God from Genesis forward. The basic underlying tension in my telling of the old, old story has been God's continual desire to be our God, to delight in us and dwell with us in the world of shalom; against our continual rebellion and deep desire to be our own gods (in other words, the basic Lutheran understanding of Sin and Salvation).
This evening was part of the series, and it's not that someone still won't get something out of my Easter sermon (hopefully) without having been there tonight, but Easter would just be that much more powerful after this service, because tonight's sermon was about God through Jesus choosing us, even though we never choose him; about Jesus deciding to reconcile us to God and to one another even if it kills him [which it did]. It's all heading to Easter Sunday, of course, which I'll proclaim as God's validation of Jesus' choice for us and the ultimate triumph of God's life-giving will for the world over our self- and other-destroying wills and habits.
So, like I say, it's not that someone can't get something out of that message in itself, but it's all the more awesome having come face-to-face with your inner God betrayer/Barabbas-lover, which is part of what I was doing tonight.
But I digress, the real reason I wanted to write tonight was because our kids once again demonstrated why they are the best theologians of the church.
My children's sermon on Maunday Thursday is always to wash the children's feet. It's a custom I picked up from my internship supervisor, Jeff Russell. When I first started the tradition here, I think the kids were a little unsure about it, but they've since grown to love it. Most come up to the front with their socks and shoes already off, they are so excited for it.
Tonight we had a pretty big crew - I was close to running out of water and towels! And when I finished with the kids, for the first time I turned and offered for anyone in the congregation to come forward as well. None of them did, but then one of the kids said, "Pastor Catrina, can we wash your feet?" And I said sure. So I took off my socks and shoes and held my feet over the basin, and the kids gathered round and poured the water over them, then carefully wiped them dry with a clean towel.
I've always found it a humbling experience to have my feet washed in the context of worship. But this was probably the most humbling and most profound, to see how these little ones get it, and how they long to embody the serving love of Christ.
You know, in their baptisms, we adults all made promises to teach them the faith. But they sure have plenty to teach us as well. . .
On a final note, a blessed Passover to all my Jewish brothers and sisters, as you celebrate your own night unlike any other.
L'Chaim,
C.
This evening was part of the series, and it's not that someone still won't get something out of my Easter sermon (hopefully) without having been there tonight, but Easter would just be that much more powerful after this service, because tonight's sermon was about God through Jesus choosing us, even though we never choose him; about Jesus deciding to reconcile us to God and to one another even if it kills him [which it did]. It's all heading to Easter Sunday, of course, which I'll proclaim as God's validation of Jesus' choice for us and the ultimate triumph of God's life-giving will for the world over our self- and other-destroying wills and habits.
So, like I say, it's not that someone can't get something out of that message in itself, but it's all the more awesome having come face-to-face with your inner God betrayer/Barabbas-lover, which is part of what I was doing tonight.
But I digress, the real reason I wanted to write tonight was because our kids once again demonstrated why they are the best theologians of the church.
My children's sermon on Maunday Thursday is always to wash the children's feet. It's a custom I picked up from my internship supervisor, Jeff Russell. When I first started the tradition here, I think the kids were a little unsure about it, but they've since grown to love it. Most come up to the front with their socks and shoes already off, they are so excited for it.
Tonight we had a pretty big crew - I was close to running out of water and towels! And when I finished with the kids, for the first time I turned and offered for anyone in the congregation to come forward as well. None of them did, but then one of the kids said, "Pastor Catrina, can we wash your feet?" And I said sure. So I took off my socks and shoes and held my feet over the basin, and the kids gathered round and poured the water over them, then carefully wiped them dry with a clean towel.
I've always found it a humbling experience to have my feet washed in the context of worship. But this was probably the most humbling and most profound, to see how these little ones get it, and how they long to embody the serving love of Christ.
You know, in their baptisms, we adults all made promises to teach them the faith. But they sure have plenty to teach us as well. . .
On a final note, a blessed Passover to all my Jewish brothers and sisters, as you celebrate your own night unlike any other.
L'Chaim,
C.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Welcome to America
Today I spent about twenty minutes behind a truck that had the following bumper sticker: Welcome to America. Now, speak English.
Aside from the general irritation I feel whenever I bump up against folks who have conveniently forgotten that their families, too, were once immigrants, the irony of that particular sentiment in this particular locale is that Central Pennsylvania has some very unique speech patterns, the most distinctive of which come directly from the German spoken by their immigrant forbears.
The three which most stand out to my Minnesota ears:
1. The “What for. . .”
As in, when offered something to drink, a Central Pennsylvanian might ask, “What for soda do you have?” It comes directly from the German construct “Was fur,” zum Beispiel (for example): “Was fur die Getranken haben Sie?”
2. The “it’s all.”
If a Central Pennsylvanian tells you this, it means whatever it is that you asked for is finished. For example, “The cake is all” means there is no more cake, it has all been eaten. Again, comes directly from the German construct “ist alle.” Zum Beispiel: “Der Kuchen ist alle,” literally means “The cake is finished.” Basically, somewhere in the two hundred years of living in the United States, they merely dropped the “e” off the end of the word to make it an English word, but its meaning is still rooted in the German grammar construct and consequently makes no sense to any English speakers non-native to here because “all” does not mean “finished” in English in any place other than the “Dutchified” parts of Pennsylvania.
3. The missing infinitive
This is the one that most irritates me and every other non-native I know. Central Pennsylvanians don’t use the words “to be” (makes me wonder how a high school or community theater could ever put on a production of Hamlet).
I am totally serious. In the course of everyday conversation here one will regularly hear things like “My hair needs brushed,” or “This desk needs cleaned,” or “The apple needs cut,” as opposed to “My hair needs to be brushed,” and “This desk needs to be cleaned,” and “The apple needs to be cut.”
Again, this comes directly from the German, whose grammatical rules dictate when there are two verbs in one sentence, the infinitive gets kicked to the end of the sentence. In English that would mean saying “My hair needs brushed to be” which sounds even more ridiculous and “immigranty” than “My hair needs brushed.” So again, somewhere in the two hundred years of living here, they just dropped the infinitive out of the sentence completely.
So essentially, most of the peculiarities of Central Pennsylvania speech patterns can be credited to straight transliterations of German grammar constructs (with some deletions here and there). Which, ok, fine, that’s part of their heritage and who they are. . .but then be willing to give newer immigrants the same luxury or benefit of the doubt, huh?
I’m just saying, a culture that’s been here for several generations and is still almost defiantly proud of the ways that it does not speak proper English is not exactly in a position to throw stones at those just arriving on our shores. If you expect others to learn our language, then it’s only fair that you, the native speaker, make the effort to learn it and use it accurately yourself.
It’s like that Jesus guy once said: take the log out of your own eye before you address the mote in the eye of your neighbor. Or, to paraphrase Papa H. (who was himself paraphrasing John Donne): therefore never send to know to whom the bumper sticker speaks; it speaks to thee.
So welcome to America, land of the many-tongued huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
Aside from the general irritation I feel whenever I bump up against folks who have conveniently forgotten that their families, too, were once immigrants, the irony of that particular sentiment in this particular locale is that Central Pennsylvania has some very unique speech patterns, the most distinctive of which come directly from the German spoken by their immigrant forbears.
The three which most stand out to my Minnesota ears:
1. The “What for. . .”
As in, when offered something to drink, a Central Pennsylvanian might ask, “What for soda do you have?” It comes directly from the German construct “Was fur,” zum Beispiel (for example): “Was fur die Getranken haben Sie?”
2. The “it’s all.”
If a Central Pennsylvanian tells you this, it means whatever it is that you asked for is finished. For example, “The cake is all” means there is no more cake, it has all been eaten. Again, comes directly from the German construct “ist alle.” Zum Beispiel: “Der Kuchen ist alle,” literally means “The cake is finished.” Basically, somewhere in the two hundred years of living in the United States, they merely dropped the “e” off the end of the word to make it an English word, but its meaning is still rooted in the German grammar construct and consequently makes no sense to any English speakers non-native to here because “all” does not mean “finished” in English in any place other than the “Dutchified” parts of Pennsylvania.
3. The missing infinitive
This is the one that most irritates me and every other non-native I know. Central Pennsylvanians don’t use the words “to be” (makes me wonder how a high school or community theater could ever put on a production of Hamlet).
I am totally serious. In the course of everyday conversation here one will regularly hear things like “My hair needs brushed,” or “This desk needs cleaned,” or “The apple needs cut,” as opposed to “My hair needs to be brushed,” and “This desk needs to be cleaned,” and “The apple needs to be cut.”
Again, this comes directly from the German, whose grammatical rules dictate when there are two verbs in one sentence, the infinitive gets kicked to the end of the sentence. In English that would mean saying “My hair needs brushed to be” which sounds even more ridiculous and “immigranty” than “My hair needs brushed.” So again, somewhere in the two hundred years of living here, they just dropped the infinitive out of the sentence completely.
So essentially, most of the peculiarities of Central Pennsylvania speech patterns can be credited to straight transliterations of German grammar constructs (with some deletions here and there). Which, ok, fine, that’s part of their heritage and who they are. . .but then be willing to give newer immigrants the same luxury or benefit of the doubt, huh?
I’m just saying, a culture that’s been here for several generations and is still almost defiantly proud of the ways that it does not speak proper English is not exactly in a position to throw stones at those just arriving on our shores. If you expect others to learn our language, then it’s only fair that you, the native speaker, make the effort to learn it and use it accurately yourself.
It’s like that Jesus guy once said: take the log out of your own eye before you address the mote in the eye of your neighbor. Or, to paraphrase Papa H. (who was himself paraphrasing John Donne): therefore never send to know to whom the bumper sticker speaks; it speaks to thee.
So welcome to America, land of the many-tongued huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
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