The Wonder of La Mezquita

If ever a place on earth can truly convey the concept of infinity, La Mezquita in Cordoba, Spain comes closest. This huge mosque was the jewel of Western Islam from the late 700's when it's construction was begun by the Caliph Abd Al-Rahman when he assumed rule over Moorish Spain in Cordoba until 1236 when the Christian King Ferdinand III conquered Cordoba and reclaimed the city for Christian Spain. It is truly an amazing building and beyond inspiring! Even with the changes to it brought by the Catholic Christians (closing off many of the entrances, especially those that led in from the Courtyard of Orange Trees, by the construction of private family chapels by those wishing to be buried within the walls of what became a Christian house of worship, along with the building of a giant cathedral right in the middle of the mosque) it is still a wonder to behold. There is nothing else I have ever experienced which has conveyed such a sense of wonder and mystery.

With its sea of columns in muted shades of rose and blue, a ceiling that is only 30 feet high, yet broken up by double arches of red brick and white stone so that it feels even lower, and simple floors of stone or brick it conveys a sense of the embracing, sheltering presence of God. It is the complete opposite of everything a cathedral attempts to communicate. Cathedrals stretch upward, striving to reach heaven, extending the gaze upward toward a distant God. Cathedrals want to remind us of the majesty, wonder, awesome might, grandeur, and power of a God who is both Creator and Sovereign, Ruler and Judge over the Universe.

That is not the sort of place where I worship at home. It is not the type of place which draws me closer to God and evokes within me a sense of God's presence and love. I can be moved by the awe-inspiring works of God in the world - Yosemite Valley, the Grand Canyon, mountains rising to the skies, plains and oceans stretching to the horizon - but it is in the quite times in my own closet, the serene times in a forest glade or by a mountain stream, in the small chapels and simple churches where I am most aware that God is with me. It is in these close, intimate, womb-like spaces where I receive the assurance again that I am beloved by God, that I am not alone in this huge, often cold and impersonal world, but God is watching over me, protecting me, and embracing me in love.

La Mezquita in Cordoba embodies that for me.

The Difficulty of Learning the Sabbath Tango

Here it is July 22, 2009, and I am making my first post for the month! Last year, even with six days in the wilderness of Northern Minnesota, I already had several posts by this time. In fact, by the 22nd of July, 2008, I was on my way back to Miami after the first three weeks of my Sabbatical feeling very refreshed, relaxed and ready for my South American adventure! This July 22 I am finishing up my one-week vacation, enjoying a final full day in Chicago, and wondering where the vacation time went to so fast?!? One-week of vacation is not nearly enough time off to accomplish what a vacation needs to do in terms of restoring the body, mind and soul. For example, I am just now getting over a cold that is trying to become bronchitis. This hit me two days ago, about half-way through the vacation. It took my body 4 days to realize it was on vacation before it could consider whether it wanted to get sick for vacation or not! It took my mind a good three days to realize it was on vacation before it began to shift into relaxation mode. It has taken my spirit about six days to realize it was on vacation to where I was ready to begin engaging in spirit-renewing activities, such as writing in my journal, or my blog, and reading a book just for fun! Of course, I return to Miami tomorrow and back to work on Friday, so body will have had about 4 days of vacation, 2-3 of them fighting illness; my mind will have had about 5 days of vacation, also 2-3 days of that clouded by my body's illness; and my spirit will have had about 2 days of vacation.

And that is how most of my time off this year is shaping up. We had this week in Chicago to celebrate my wife Dianne's birthday (and we had a wonderful time with our family in Chicago, Jim, Erika, and granddaughters, Madeleine & Shelby.) I will next take a 4.5 days early in August to drive with my daughter,Rebekah, to Pennsylvania to help her get settled in her apartment for Law School which begins later that month. Then, after returning to Miami, a week later I will fly with my son, Paul, out to Salt Lake City, Utah, to help him get settled in Westminster College for his freshman year. I will take about 8 days to make that trip, and the last two days will probably be alone time for me as it appears that the orientation schedule does not include parents on Monday or Tuesday. (That is fine with me, at least I will get a little bit of solo vacation out of the trip!) Then Dianne and I are planning to take a 10 day trip this September, probably to California. Perhaps that will be a long enough experience to bring full refreshment and renewal to my body, mind & soul?!

I am not really complaining, as much as I am bemoaning several realities. First, the fact that we expect too much out of too little far too often in our society. We expect a one or two week vacation to make up for the other 50 highly stressful, highly taxing, highly exhausting weeks we spend at work, at volunteer activities, at household chores, etc. We expect one-hour a week on Sunday mornings to renew our relationship with God and to restore our spiritual health to a balanced place to take us through the week. Our bodies, minds and spirits need regular renewal time and periodic intense, extended renewal time, for good health. It is the way we were created. Besides all the medical studies highlighting this truth, God's plan as detailed in the Bible also teaches us the same thing. God established the Sabbath at the very beginning creating the world: after six days of work, God rested. God knew when to take a break and God taught us that we need to do the same thing. Yet how infrequently do we really take a weekly Sabbath? If we are lucky enough any more to not work on Saturday or Sunday we almost always fill both days with chores and other high levels of activity. How often do we stop to ask ourselves if something we are planning to do will be renewing to our body, mind, spirit, or family relationships?

The other reality I find very sad is that there is so little acknowledgement of the importance of family and family relationships in the structure of our employment practices. I remember when the Family Leave Act was passed by Congress back in the '90's that mandated employers to allow mothers and fathers time off work for the birth or adoption of a baby. It was a major battle to get this law passed! Most employers do not allow for separate sick-leave days for caring for a family member: an employee must use their sick leave, which in most cases is pretty minimal for the year, especially when it must be divided between the employee and one or more dependents. Most employers do not allow for time off for attending to other family care situations: like attending graduations, taking children off to college, etc. To do such a parent must use vacation time. Now I realize there might always be people who would abuse some benefit, but I also realize that we as a society are extremely driven to succeed at all costs, especially when it comes to turning a profit. We have very little humane and compassionate practices in our economic, business, and social relationships. And the church gets sucked right into the same attitudes and practices. This is very sad.

But I am thankful for a caring and understanding congregation of people who, while they expect a lot out of their pastor and like for him to be available 24/7/365, still realize he is a human being who needs time away for renewal and refreshment. They are fairly flexible and as long as I am there at the critical moments, for the most part they allow me space and encourage me to find Sabbath Time so that I can be healthy, whole, and a better person and pastor. Finding such is part of the difficult dance known as Sabbath Tango. As I learned in Argentina one does not pick-up the Tango, and definitely not master it, in just a few lessons. It takes years of practice. Even so with the Sabbath Tango.

(The pictures include: A brown bear cooling himself at the Brookfield Zoo, he definitely seems to have a better handle on the Sabbath Tango than I do; Dianne & I with our children preparing to go out to celebrate her birthday with a fabulous dinner; a view of the Chicago River from the boat tour we enjoyed; a photo of me & Dianne and taking a photo of ourselves and the Chicago skyline in the Cloud Gate in Millenium Park; and a photo of Dianne, Rebekah & Paul at the sign for Millenium Park.)

Holy Week Sabbatical

Holy Week has always been a time of Sabbatical for me. Especially the days from Thursday through Easter. I know it sounds crazy for a pastor to make such a statement. After all, aren't these days the busiest days of the church year?!? And yet, I have always tried to slow them down, and allow them to be all about the worship events. As much as possible I have refused to schedule weddings on Easter weekend; I have refrained from visiting folks, unless they land in the hospital or have a real crisis in their life at the moment; I have kept all meetings off the calendar. It has not been particularly hard to do these things, as most people in the church are pretty focused on the holiday, or Spring Break from school, and engaged in family activities more than church activities (except the worship.) So even though there is work for me in terms of getting ready for the various worship experiences, several sermons or meditations to write, liturgies to plan, and all the myriad details of making sure all the candles, sound systems, etc. are set properly, there is a sense of Sabbatical time to all of it for me. For instance, I myself prepare the Fellowship Hall for the Maundy Thursday celebration. I recreate, [somewhat, with the help of a member who owns an Import store with merchandise from Morocco] an "Upper Room" atmosphere. We set up a station for washing feet in the center of the room on a Turkish rug, with basins and pitchers and grass baskets, etc. I surround that with the round dining tables and spread around the room lots of candles. It creates a very effective mood for the worship. All this set-up takes me about 2 hours, but I approach it with a sense of spiritual practice, a form of service to the people coming and to God. It is a time to reflect upon the coming worship, even to identify with those disciples Jesus sent on ahead to prepare the room for the supper that last night before his death.

All the preparation for the events of this weekend provide the same sort of reflective time for me. In a very real way time slows down and I somewhat glide through these three days into the Easter celebration. I am able to prepare what I need to do with moments of reflection along the way and without stressing over getting everything done. It is nice to be able to find such a rhythm of reflection in the midst of my regular work (although holiday times are hardly "regular"). I wish there were a way to incorporate such a relaxed, less-stressed out rhythm into my regular work schedule.

Another type of mini-sabbatical

"We have lost the ability and time to reflect on our lives today." With these words Ted Runions opened the retreat for the Board of Directors of the Florida Conference United Church of Christ which I recently attended. Everything proceeds at such an accelerated pace, yet we have less time, because we are expected to do more than we used to do. He reminded us that a “retreat” is a gift of time to stop, reflect, and think about what we are doing, why we are doing it, and how it is done. His opening comments reminded me of the purpose of a sabbatical. They also brought to mind how much I treasured and enjoyed the four-month gift of time to do just that in my own life. The longer I am back, the more I try to schedule and create such a time to reflect on my own life in the regular schedule of my days with increasing difficulty and frustration, the more I realize what a truly precious gift were those four months in 2008. Increasingly I feel like the crazy woodpecker who has taken to beating his head against the window in front of my desk. The bird must see its reflection and is either attacking this "other" bird which it feels is a threat, or is trying to make contact, but just keeps banging into this hard glass. I keep trying to find time in my daily routine to write in my journal, or write on my blog, or just sit and think. But it just does not happen. My days are filled with work duties, family duties, and when there appears to be time in the evening, I am often just too tired to focus beyond the television, or bed. I am very thankful that I keep finding small blocks of time, like my father's funeral weekend, or this Board of Director's Retreat weekend, to step away from my regular schedule. And I do some reflecting during those times. But it does not feel as if they are enough to deeply, richly feed my soul.

The Board of Directors' retreat was a sort of mini-sabbatical. Not only did it allow time for reflecting on the work of the Board and on my role with the Board, but the facilitator also helped us identify our Myers-Briggs Personality Types (I am an INFJ) toward the end of helping us clarify the personality of the Board of Directors and giving us some insight how this information can help in our work and functioning as a group. This personal information, however, also provided me an opportunity to engage in some personal reflection. I gained some new insight and recalled some old insight, into my personality type and I was able to reflect somewhat on why I am the way I am and revisit some understanding about how I function and what it most healthy for me. For instance, it was reinforced for me one more time, in one more way, that as an "I" (introvert) type, I draw my energy from time alone. Thus, it is vitally important for me to have quiet time to reflect, to be alone, in order to be re-energized. My daily solo walks are important. Time to write would be a very important positive exercise for me. I have been learning and claiming all these insights in many ways the past 8 months. This was one more confirmation about this self-knowledge. The trick is, as I initially stated, finding and claiming the time to commit to these activities.

Re-entry at Christ Congregational Church

After two days back at work, I am, so far, working my plan to re-enter slowly. Yesterday, November 1, was my first official day back at work, off of sabbatical. The telephone started ringing in the morning, so obviously people were counting the days until I was off of sabbatical. (But I must commend them for they clearly respected the sabbatical and did not call me while I was away.) Dianne and I took the early part of the day and drove to Key Largo, in the Florida Keys, primarily to run the errand of visiting Shell World to buy some special sea shells for the baptism of our granddaughters coming up November 9, but the real reason was to spend some more down time with each other and have a nice lunch on the water. It was a beautiful day and while it was not South America it did allow us some fantasy time of still feeling like we were still on sabbatical or vacation. The drive was relaxing, Shell World provided a large selection of shells from which to choose shells not only for next Sunday's baptism, but also a supply for future baptism ceremonies. We enjoyed a very relaxed lunch at Sundowner's on Florida Bay with up-close visits by sea gulls and a white heron.

After returning home I enjoyed the end of the Miami Hurricane football game as they beat University of Virginia in overtime and then watched the University of Florida Gators beat the Georgia Bulldogs, supporting my daughter's Alma mater and vicariously enjoying the game with her through mutual text messages. Then Dianne and I went to the 3 C's Preschool Harvest Festival which had been postponed a week due to weather. I was warmly greeted by people we saw who knew us and was a nice preview of the welcome home we received on Sunday morning.

Sunday morning has come and gone. It was very comfortable for me to lead worship. It should not have been a surprise to me, as I have been leading worship, with others or alone, at least 46 weeks out of 52 for the past 28 years. As Dianne reminded me as I went out the door this morning, "It's just like riding a bike!" (That chestnut is as well-worn as every piece of meat out of the ordinary supposedly "tasting like chicken.") But I was a little concerned if I would remember what to do and what to say. As it turned out, I did not even think very much about the words I say at Communion when I break the bread and pour the juice, but they came to me at the time I needed them without even thinking about what they needed to be and the benediction words, I did not stumble over them at all. I guess my wife is right! The experience of leading both times of worship was very natural and felt very familiar. Plus I did not stress over it and handled it with grace and professionalism. It seems the sabbatical did help. Plus I had many people commenting on how rested and rejuvenated I appeared.

The question will be to see how long the affect lasts. I was asked what I planned to do to keep refreshed and I shared my thoughts on what now be my focus as pastor. I realize I did way too much as pastor before the sabbatical, and I do not want to fall back into those patterns. So I plan to focus on four areas:

1. Plan and lead worship

2. Prepare and present a sermon

3. Offer pastor care as the people need it

4. Offer leadership, in supporting their work as the people of God and helping to focus the work of the mission of the church.

I also plan to make writing in my journal a regular part of my life. One of my members who teaches Spanish in high school has offered to help me keep up my Spanish with regular tutoring and I plan to accept her offer. Several members have offered to help me practice my Spanish and I plan to do that as well. I certainly hope these practices will help me remain rejuvenated and not approach burn-out status quickly as work responsibilities accumulate. Stay tuned!

Initial Thoughts on Machu Picchu

What to say about Machu Picchu?!? It will probably be months, if not years, before I can fully put into words even half of what I experienced in my two days wandering this amazing mountain-top city. While it is not as high as people think (listed at 7,800 feet above sea level, whereas Cusco is 11,000 feet) it is still impressively located atop a mountain, with the sides falling steeply to the valley floor some 1,800 feet below. You can also climb several surrounding peaks, or up the Inca Trail to the Gate of the Sun (which Dianne and I did our second day here) which is another 1,000 feet above Machu Picchu for even more breathtaking views. (Actually, the climb itself also takes away your breath!)

Our first day in the ruins started out very cool, cloudy, and misty. While the clouds were not at city level, but above the closest peaks, they were still covering some of the surrounding peaks and deepened and darkened all the colors of the stone and vegetation. We hired an impromptu guide at the gate, Felix, who was very kind, fairly knowledgeable, and basically did what we hoped in taking us around in an orderly fashion to all the important spots in the city in about two-and-a-half hours. After that we had the entire afternoon to explore on our own. By that time the clouds had become the white, puffy cumulus clouds of summer afternoons with lots of sunshine and it actually became hot up on the mountain top. Unfortunately I was fighting a sinus infection wanting to turn into bronchitis, running a fever, and generally feeling lousy, so our exploring was somewhat limited. We did revisit some of the sites Felix showed us and took pictures and we did make the climb to the Watchman's Hut to take the classic postcard photo of Machu Picchu with Wayna Picchu rising up behind it along with some close-up photos of llamas grazing on the terraces. (We also played footsie with a llama as we were climbing down the 150 step stairway from the Hut to the exit level and the llama was climbing up and walked right past us.) We did head down to our wonderfully comfortable Eco-lodge, Rupa Wasi, in town a bit earlier than we might have if I wasn't sick, so I could take some medicines for my symptoms and take a short nap before dinner.

We awoke after a good, long night's sleep to raindrops on our roof and low clouds wrapping around the mountains. It did not look like it would be a good day to visit Machu Picchu, but I awoke feeling better than the day before and we had already paid for our tickets to enter the ruins, so after breakfast we boarded the bus for the 20-minute, winding bus ride to the top. By the time we reached the entrance the clouds had lifted and blue sky was beginning to show. So, we embarked on the 1,000 foot climb to Intipunku (The Gate of the Sun) which is the pass the main Inca Trail crosses and where travelers would get their first view of the city stretched out below. We took the climb slow and easy with several stops along the way to take in the view. There were also some interesting sights we encountered along the way - evidence that people are still worshiping in the ancient Inca fashion.

We came upon one spot where a huge rock jutted out over the trail with stonework below it that gave the appearance there had once been some sort of structure here, possibly a shrine. There were numerous small piles of stones, 3, 4 or 5 stones high, on top of the various walls all around this rock (which one could say bore a resemblance to a frog). Even more intriguing was the small group of women and a child, in a small shaded opening next to this area who were clearly praying facing the mountain (standing there with arms raised in quiet posture). A little further along the trail there was another group of stone structures which could have been some sort of outpost on the trail, or again, a shrine. Next to these structures was another large rock, this one laying on the ground, but clearly polished and shaped on top in one of the traditional Incan designs. Again, there were small piles of stones on this rock and in various other places around the area. But in addition, on one of the shelves of this rock were clear offerings left for Pachamama (Mother Earth), hard candy pieces and coca leaves. It is fascinating, and even a little heart-warming, to realize that despite all the Spanish conquerors and their Catholic priests did to try to wipe out the indigenous religion of the people, it still survives in some form.

While it is hard to describe, it is clearly evident when visiting, that Machu Picchu has a strong spiritual dimension to it. While the archaeologists have many, many competing theories about what purpose the city played, why it was built here, what are the meanings of the different structures, it is clear that the area held great spiritual meaning for the Inca people. It is clear that it was again, an area with a good water supply and a location that could be easily defended and would be difficult to attack. The fact that it survived in such good shape for so many centuries beyond the Spanish invaders is a testimony to the building skills of those who constructed it, and to its highly difficult to reach location. It is truly one of the wonders of the world.

(I have posted pictures with my previous two posts from Peru, so if you read them earlier, revisit them to see a few pictures. I have not had a chance to create Kodak Gallery Albums yet, so there are no links to more pictures, but they will be added in the next few days. Dianne and I are wearing down from all the climbing and walking, so we are going to be slowing down the "tourist type" activity the rest of this week and taking a more leisurely pace. I should be able to finally organize the Peru pictures and share more with you in a few days. So, keep checking back.)

Here, finally, are some links to Kodak Gallery Albums where you can see more of the amazing photos from Machu Picchu. This link will take you to pictures from Day 1 in Machu Picchu: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=6d2p4u6.bh2fuudi&x=0&y=-b3i3xa&localeid=en_US

Still Waiting for Dianne

The way life has been going recently, this is no surprise. It is 11:15 a.m. in Buenos Aires and I am still waiting for Dianne's arrival. For some reason, she was not told why, her flight from Miami was delayed 13 hours. That meant she spent last night in the airport Marriott in Miami (courtesy of Lan Argentina, with dinner and breakfast on them) and her flight is scheduled to arrive in Buenos Aires now at 8:25 p.m. local time. Complicating her life beyond that event yesterday was the fact that there were terrible thunderstorms in Miami on Sunday night, one of which knocked out the power at our home for several hours. It also messed up the Internet connection and the telephone lines, (even after the power resumed) all of which complicated her efforts to prepare to leave. But I just spoke with her 15 minutes ago and she was sitting on the plane which appeared to be on-time for departure. So it will only be 9 more hours!

In spite of this glitch, life is returning to normal and my outlook is definitely improving. This morning I was finally able to pick-up the locks to the closets in my apartment from the locksmith with the new keys. I had been very bothered about this because I did not return in time on Saturday to get them and he had closed. He remained closed not only Sunday (which was expected) but also all day Monday (which had me very nervous). On top of the anxiety it added to the fact that every time I had to go out since Friday's trauma I could not secure my computer and other valuable inside the apartment. Nothing happened (actually there is pretty good security on the apartment building itself), but after Friday, my paranoia is definitely on level orange if not red. (I think that is the order for the Homeland Security alerts?) The locksmith was also able to open the lock on my suitcase so I could put a new lock on it (the keys to that lock were also in the backpack) and again have access to my passport! So, the suitcase is now accessible again and the locks are back on the closets. I learned you can use a steak knife as a flat-blade screwdriver. (All sorts of things I am learning on this sabbatical!)

I am listening to the two Tango CDs I purchased this weekend as I write these words, so my attitude toward Buenos Aires is growing more positive as life slowly returns to normal. I was able to reschedule the taxi driver late last night when I found out about the change in Dianne's arrival, which was quite an accomplishment. He speaks almost no English. Plus I had lost his telephone number in the robbery. But I found it on my Skype history. I was able to find a late night locutorio (public telephone shop) to call him. He answered his cell phone so I did not have to leave a message. I was able to communicate what happened and renegotiate when he would pick me up to go to the airport, all in Spanish! (I did write it out before I called, but still...) So I am feeling more capable, more positive about things, than I have for several days.

I also want to say "Thank you" to all those who reached out to me during this difficult time with kind words of support and encouragement. Some did so through my blog, and some through direct emails and some on my Facebook page. All of your comments were strengthening to me and it was good to know I was truly not alone in this situation and, even though distant from me, I was still surrounded by a community of love, support, and concern. God is good and God does provide, almost always in ways we do not expect, but always God demonstrates we are not alone. Thank you all.

Preparing for Dianne - Physically & Spiritually

Dianne arrives tomorrow! This has been a day of preparing for her arrival. The maid came and cleaned the apartment. I have bought groceries and sweets for breakfast tomorrow if she is hungry upon arriving. The flowers have been replaced with fresh flowers. (I would take a picture of the beautiful violet iris and the scarlet and white amalias, but I can't because I don't have my camera!) I have rearranged my belongings so Dianne has space to put her belongings upon arrival. Everything is pretty much ready, now all I have to do is wait for the time the taxi arrives and I head to the airport to meet her.

As you maybe could tell by the snide side comment in the above paragraph, I very much need her presence for I am still working through the trauma I suffered last Friday. I basically turned into a couch potato this past weekend. On Saturday morning I did trek down to the Police station near the central government area. A very nice and gentle policewoman assisted me in looking at pictures on a computer of men and women that matched my general description of those I felt I might be able to identify. There was one woman who was very close and I had a strong sense it could have been the woman I had the most interaction with during the "sting." I could not come up with a man I felt strongly I could identify. She was going to circulate the woman's picture in the general neighborhood where the event took place. I realize they probably will not catch the people who did this and even if they do I will not recover anything they took (if I could just get the journals back that would be tremendously healing for me) but I do think it was helpful to spend the morning engaged in this task of trying to identify them. I feel that it was an important step in the healing process of dealing with the trauma, the sense of helplessness that it evoked, and trying to move on. After all, I have done all that I can, now I can, I hope, begin to let it go.

I am having trouble doing that, though. I find myself caught in negative thoughts about the city, about those people, as I walk around. Saturday after completing the task with the police I returned immediately to the neighborhood where I live, picked up some empanadas for lunch, and went back to the apartment. I spent the afternoon replacing the camera by purchasing the replacement on-line with Best Buy for pick-up in the local store near my home in Miami, where my daughter went to pick it up. Of course there was a glitch! My credit card company, for some reason, froze the purchase request because it was done on-line. It took three times as long as it should have for me to get the equipment, because I had to call the credit card company, approve the purchase, call Best Buy back twice to get it straightened out. Right now, life is not easy!

Of course, I am writing this as I listen to Wolf Blitzer on CNN talking about the $1.2 trillion stock loss on the US stock market today! I cannot even fathom what is really happening at home right now. I know that this financial crisis is filling the local papers and even the local news here, but the concerns are not the same, I don't believe, as what is possibly taking place back home. People here are certainly concerned, but it appears to me that they don't feel their economy and other world economies are so tightly tied to the US economy that it will destroy their lives. Whether that is true or not, being outside of the US during this certainly brings a different perspective.

One of the pieces that has helped me was the UCC On-line Devotional this morning, written by the Rev. Kenneth L. Samuel, Pastor of Victory for the World Church, United Church of Christ, Stone Mountain, Georgia. The devotion is called "Deep Calls to Deep" and is a reflection on Psalm 42: "My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Jordan and of Hermon, from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep at the thunder of your cataracts; all your waves and your billows have gone over me." Here are his words:

From the dark dungeon of a deep distress, the Psalmist discovers something that persons who live only in the shallow plateaus of comfort and convenience may never know. The Psalmist discovered that the profound depth of a person's distress causes that person to tap more deeply into the inner recesses of spirit and soul. In fact, it often takes a deep debacle or a cataclysmic calamity to reveal to us that which is really at the core of our being. Trouble, adversity and trial show us who we really are by causing us to tap more deeply into the depths of energy, hope and resilience that we never knew we had. Deep depression and deep disaster call us, beckon us and invite us to explore the depths of faith, hope and resilience that are deeply embedded in the souls of all who cultivate faith in God. And the good news is that like the Psalmist, we can discover that our faith in God is much deeper than the disasters of our circumstance.

Reading this I realize that some of the practices that connected me with God had been ignored by me this past weekend. I have not been reciting my mantra "Ubi Caritas" (honestly, I have not felt like there was much "love and charity" present in my life since Friday). I did not resume writing in my journal until late yesterday, with a follow-up this morning. (And as I had discovered earlier on Sabbatical, when I don't journal I don't deal with life as well. Since I resumed journaling, I do think I have begun the slow process of healing, as I already feel a little more positive.) I had not been meditating (at least not actively) during the weekend. Quite honestly, I think what I did was retreat into my "cave" and lick my wounds. Which was possibly what I needed to do at that point. But now I want to get out of the cave. I want to engage the city once again (which I began to do as I prepared for Dianne's arrival with all the errands I needed to complete) and which I know I will have to do with Dianne, for I want her to have a good experience. As hurtful as this experience has been, as much as it is threatening to color my view of this city, I still believe that this is a great city, with wonderful aspects and amazing people.

It was helpful for me to read that Devotional and hear the Word of God speaking to my deep hurt and my deep fears. As it spoke to me, I shared it because perhaps it may speak to whatever deep hurts and fears you have in these troubled times.

Probably My Worst Day of the Sabbatical

They took the wind right out of my sails!!!! At least for the moment. Today, (Friday) just as I was falling in love with this city, it rose up and smacked me in the face. I was robbed! That's right, I became a victim of a distraction scam that resulted in me losing my backpack, my camera (and all its equipment), and the one that hurt the most, both of my journals, in which I have been recording my thoughts and feelings and reflections for the past 3 months. I am fine. I really don't believe I was ever in any real physical danger. I was distracted by several people around me, while I was sitting on a bench in a public park, with other people around in view. It was very well done, and on reflection, I think it was quite elaborate. I quickly, once I realized my backpack was gone, identified that at least 4 people were involved, with three of them distracting me, and I never saw the fourth, but I know the other three did not take my backpack. But on further reflection, I think there was even another person involved in that distraction effort. It was all very subtle. But "strange" things began to take place in my view, which caught my attention, and led me to let down my guard and lose my items. I tried to run them down, but they even sent me in the wrong direction at first.

I spent a very upset next few hours. First, I talked to two security guards at the park, one of whom helped me search for my backpack and the people I had seen (of course to no avail). I then went to the local police office and filed a "denuncia" (denunciation), which is filing a charge. Part of that paperwork is evidently even going to a judge. I am going to another police office tomorrow to look at "mug" shots and see if any faces are familiar. There was a very nice woman at the park who heard me struggling to talk to one of the security guards. She was bilingual and helped me communicate. The police were very solicitous and kind and gentle (though I realize there is really not much they will be able to do). So, even as the city slapped me sharply, at the same time it reached out and picked me up and comforted me.

At least I did not suffer any physical harm. At least I did not have any important papers, documents, credit cards or money in the pack. The camera I can replace (also, at least I have kept up with downloading my pictures to my external hard drive, to my Kodak Gallery Albums, and to CD's, so I did not lose any of what I have already captured.) The backpack I can replace. I will struggle to replace my journals (in fact I really cannot, but I can start a new one and I do have my blog entries).

But I have been violated (as any person who suffers a crime against them has been) and I am angry. As I said at the beginning, these people took the wind right out of my sails. I have been reading a book that a member of my church gave me before I left about Buenos Aires that is subtitled "A cultural and literary companion." It is a marvelous book that tries to understand and characterize this city through its history, and through the words and descriptions of this city that writers, novelists, poets, both indigenous and foreign, have written. It has enriched greatly my understanding and my appreciation for and view of this city. My reading, along with all the good experiences I have been having, have strengthened my comfort level with the city, made it begin to feel like home, and was leading me to fall in love with it. Then this. (Actually, I think all that contributed as well to my guard being lowered so that I became an easy mark.)

One of my colleagues and friends in his blog on spiritual matters reflected on the story in Matthew 14 of Peter bravely stepping out of the boat to "walk on the water" with Jesus. "But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened and he began to sink. He cried out, 'Lord, save me.'" In his reflection he pointed out that even though Peter stepped out in faith, "when he saw trouble brewing, his faith weakened and he began to sink. How often does this happen to us? We start out with bold motives, but when opposition challenges us we falter and fall away. Our faith task is to allow God to surprise us, to become more than we think we are, and this means moving beyond the secure places and daring to stand firm in the midst of the storms of life." I need that surprising word tonight. I need to remember that while this at first felt like a sabbatical-crushing experience that might possibly color my entire experience with negativity and bitterness, it mighty actually turn out to be a sabbatical-strengthening experience. It may actually turn out to be one of those times in life when I become more aware of the presence of God and identify the way in which God is with me, watching over me, and able to help me walk through the storm in amazing ways, even on the surface of the water.

I don't have the reflections yet, but I can sense that I am beginning to move beyond my initial anger, my initial hurt, my initial sense of being a victim. My trip to Tigre, to the delta of the river Paraná, tomorrow is being canceled. I just don't have the energy for that trip. I am going to go to the Police Station and look at faces in pictures. I will have a nice lunch, and then I will hang out in the apartment. I need some down time. I need to reflect on this. I need to begin my new journal. I need to to work on my Spanish even more vigorously, for though it is there, it was not very good in such a stressful situation. But I am okay. I will be okay. And I know there are even more learning's to draw from this experience as part of my sabbatical. Thank you for your prayers. (The pictures above include two from the garden near the spot where this happened and two of a local police station in a different barrio, but put up to honor the assistance they did provide to me.)