A 2012 Recap

There’s a family tradition for us to send out Christmas letters. So far, I’ve resisted the temptation—until this year. This one has been eventful enough, I suppose! So I share it here as well as by mail…

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

While I am sending cards incredibly late this year, I hope this letter still reaches you before the Christmas season comes to an end. It has been a busy and eventful year, and I figured I would share a few things about it with all of you!

apartment scene

my new apartment, decorated for Christmas

First, on June 1 I moved to a new apartment in Queens as part of the church’s decision to sell its manse. I’m still serving as pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone, and my new home is still less than a mile from the church. I love my new place, although I’m not quite as able to welcome visitors as I once was. However, as a one-bedroom apartment, it is much more my size than the five-bedroom manse!

Iona Abbey

Iona Abbey in Scotland

Then, in July and August, I took a wonderful and much-appreciated sabbatical. I traveled first to Pittsburgh to attend the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA), then in August I spent a week with family and friends in Mississippi and Alabama. But the real highlight of this time was twenty-five days in Scotland and Iceland! In Scotland, I visited friends in Portmahomack, then joined up with a group on pilgrimage to church sites in Edinburgh, St. Andrews, Stirling, and Glasgow. I concluded my time there with a week on the Isle of Iona, an absolutely incredible spiritual site with history dating to the sixth century. On the way back to the US, I spent four days enjoying the incredible natural beauty of Iceland. It was a trip of a lifetime! The most lasting piece of my sabbatical persists even now, though: I grew a sabbatical beard!

Andy at the White House

identified as “talent” at the White House

This fall, after completing several major leadership responsibilities in the church and presbytery, I took up singing with the New Amsterdam Singers. We are a group of about seventy gifted and committed singers who rehearse weekly in Manhattan and take on challenging music for our three concerts each year. In December, I was part of a smaller group who were invited to sing at the White House as part of the holiday tours. It was another once-in-a-lifetime experience!

It has been good to hear from many of you during the holidays this year. I hope and pray that your Christmas was joyous and your New Year is filled with much love! Look me up whenever you are in New York City—it is always wonderful to see friends!

Sabbatical, Day 64

Today is the last official day of my sabbatical. While I don’t preach on Sunday and don’t go back to work until Tuesday, my two-month sabbatical officially runs July and August, so today is the official end of my sabbatical and as good a time as any to reflect a bit on the events of these last two months.

reset button

More than anything, I view this time as a giant “reset button” in my life. This may not be the case with all sabbaticals, but the other things going on in my church work and in my life made this very much the case for me. In the last three months, I have moved to a new apartment, moved to a new office, attended General Assembly for the first time in ten years, and traveled Europe for 25 days. All these experiences mean that so much of what I do when I return to the office next week and to the pulpit on September 9 will be quite different from what I was doing when I left on June 28.

I’m actually very excited about these changes. I am looking forward to having better separation between work and home because my office is no longer on the first floor of my home. I am excited about taking up some new things in life that have been inspired by my experiences this summer, most notably as I begin singing in the New Amsterdam Singers this fall. And I am looking forward to how my experiences of worship this summer at General Assembly,  in New York City, and in Scotland will inform and transform my leadership in worship at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone.

At some level, I think I expected more immediate things out of this time away than I can see right now. However, I know that the full meaning of this sabbatical will emerge over the coming weeks, months, and even years as I take what I’ve done and bring it into my daily life. This is not particularly comforting or hopeful – it would be easier if I could say right now that these are the things that have changed. But the reality is that they haven’t yet – and that’s very much normal. The way of following Jesus in general is like this: it takes time to figure out what it all means and sort out how to integrate it into daily life. So if I can start that process, keep remembering all that I have experienced in these days, and begin to apply what I have learned in this time, I will fit very much within the long tradition of this way of life.

In the end, I suppose that has been the goal of these days as much as anything, to sort out a more faithful way to walk with Jesus, and I hope and pray that such will emerge as I continue the journey ahead beyond this time away into the calling of life I live every day.

Sabbatical Rest

my friend Teri enjoying a restful afternoon of cream tea on Iona

One of the most important elements of my sabbatical has been rest. I have enjoyed getting a good night’s sleep most nights, especially when I’ve been at home. I’ve realized a number of things about myself in this process.

First, I generally don’t get enough rest. I actually tend to sleep pretty well, but I’ve realized that I often don’t really slow down enough to get true rest. While I was at General Assembly in Pittsburgh and traveling in Scotland, I tended to go to bed late and get up early so that I could make the most of my time with these wonderful people and places. It was a great thing to do, and I don’t think I would do it differently if I did it over again. However, during my last few days in Scotland, I realized how much this lack of rest caught up with me. On my last full day in Scotland, I took a three-hour afternoon nap. On two of my three afternoons in Iceland, I also took three-hour naps. Since returning to the US, I’ve continued to sleep more than usual and make up for some of the rest I missed. As I think about doing such a trip again, I’m going to be sure to include more downtime for rest in the middle of the trip so that I can be more energized as it continues.

Second, my lack of rest makes a difference for me. While I was deeply energized by all the things and people I was seeing in Scotland and at General Assembly, I also noticed toward the end of all these travels that I was burning out. It was a very similar feeling to what I had been experiencing in my work before my sabbatical began – I was in desperate need of some down time, and the regular moments for that were few and far between. Now that I’ve really started to recover and rest more, I can tell a difference. My friends have noted my restedness lately, and I’m finding that I am just in a more settled and joyous place.

So how do these learnings translate into life after sabbatical? I had better figure this out quickly, since it ends next Tuesday! So far, I’m planning to be more careful about taking my days off and more intentional about my sabbath time. It has been easier to disconnect from things this summer without my work email continuing to “ding” away, and I will likely do this more often. I’m also thinking that I will be sure to take vacations that aren’t just filled with family and friend and travel time but also have some downtime on the front end or back end. Maybe instead of going right back to work the morning after returning from a week of travel, I’ll plan to take an extra day of vacation so that I can be more relaxed and rested as I move back into the world. And I suspect that I will also try to have better hours for sleep going forward – though that is easier said than done!

Sabbath and rest are continuing challenges in my life, and this time of sabbatical has only highlighted my ongoing issues with how I try to live them out. Nonetheless, I hope and pray that the space I’ve had this summer will help to make the time ahead all the more fulfilling and restful and joyous all the same.

A note on the photo: Since I don’t have any pictures of me resting on the trip (surprise, surprise!), I’ve borrowed my friend Teri’s photo of a relaxing afternoon in the garden of the Argyll Hotel on Iona with tea and scones.

Iceland

I’ve neglected to post many photos of my trip to Iceland until now. I’ll leave these mostly without comment, but I have tried to caption them for you below.

Pilgrimage

Iona Abbey in the distance on the Iona Pilgrimage

When my friend Teri was telling me about the trip she was planning for her church members to Scotland and Iona that I eventually joined in on, she repeatedly used the word “pilgrimage.” Now I think she was partly just trying to dispel the myth that this was some sort of vacation with a church twist, but as I start to reflect on this journey, I think she was actually using the best possible word.

Pilgrimage is not a word people use much these days, but it has a long history in religious and spiritual life. To this day, faithful Muslims are obligated to make a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once. Buddhists and Hindus make the journey to holy places in their traditions as well. In an earlier era, Christians were pilgrimage people, too, with people making their way to the churches of saints and visiting relics housed in special locations, but nowadays pilgrimages seem to be far less formal and certainly less important. Today, Christians, especially Protestants, might make a trip to an important holy site, but it would be unusual to consider a particular place a required spot of pilgrimage as was common in a different era.

the ruins of the cathedral at St. Andrews, Scotland

Even so, as I look back on my journey to Scotland and Iceland, it was a time of pilgrimage for me. Along the way, I actually made my way to several places that were once major pilgrimage spots. Both St. Andrews and Iona once housed important relics of saints and were among the important places that faithful people would visit before the Reformation to be encouraged in their faith. Many of the other churches we visited that predated the Reformation also were sites of pilgrimage at one point or another. Even the natural wonders I visited on my own as part of a bus tour in Iceland felt a bit like moments of pilgrimage.

For my own walk of faith, the places I visited were at once both very important and relatively nonessential. While I was grateful to visit sites that have loomed large in my cultural and spiritual formation like Iona, I think I found the journey itself far more informative for my walk of faith. The time I spent with others, with myself, and with God along the way was revelatory to me than any experience even in the most holy of places.

making our way up the mountain

I saw this most clearly on Tuesday of my week on Iona as I joined about 100 others on a pilgrimage around the island. Three resident staff and volunteers of the Iona Community led this group up and down rocky passages, through boggy grassland, along the waters of the sea, and even across the Iona Golf Course that is shared with sheep and cows! I was a bit hesitant to make the journey out of fear that I wasn’t in the best shape to make the trip or that the weather just wouldn’t hold, but in the end, I was grateful that I did. Along this little pilgrimage covering seven miles around a small Hebridean island off the west coast of Scotland, I saw a microcosm of so many other journeys of my life. The trip had challenging moments (though far fewer than I expected), breathtaking vistas, rocky places, wonderful conversations, strangely quiet moments, plenty of ups and downs, and even a good bit of ordinariness.

The pilgrimage around Iona was notable for all these things and more, but I will remember it for a lifetime for two reasons. First of all, I was surrounded by others along the way. I knew some of my fellow travelers pretty well, and others I barely knew at all. Still others I got to know along the way. All of us, though, shared something special along this way as we enjoyed a beautiful day and explored an incredible place together, whether for the first or fifth of fifteenth time.

I will also remember the pilgrimage because of the intentional moments we shared along the way. Eleven or twelve times along the way, we paused to hear a reflection, scripture, or poem. These were often meaningful and special – think of hearing about the transfiguration of Jesus at one of the highest points on the journey as we did. However, the most important part of it all was that when we began to move again, we usually started out with a song. There is likely another blog post coming on the importance of music on this trip for me, but the songs that we shared along the way set the tone for the rest of our travels together. We each had our own part to contribute to our common journey, but in the end we needed everyone to join in the song in one way or another as we continued the pilgrimage together.

Thingvellir National Park, Iceland

Most of all, all the pilgrimages of this journey – around Iona, around Scotland, and generally “across the pond” – reminded me that this life is not a journey that I take alone. Those who have read along on this blog, commented here or on Facebook or Twitter, or have actually journeyed with me a bit have been an important part of this pilgrimage. Even in the times when I felt like I was making this journey alone, I was grateful for the little signs that I am not alone on this walk of life, for I cannot do it by myself.

At some level this post feels like a good place to end, but I know that there is more reflection and sabbatical time ahead, so look for more here in the coming weeks. I am looking forward to three more weeks of downtime before I return to my pastoral work, and I still have another trip ahead to visit family and friends in Mississippi and Alabama in just a couple weeks. Thanks for being a part of this journey with me, and I look forward to sharing the days, weeks, months, and years ahead as we journey together on this strange pilgrimage we call life.

Iona

Iona Abbey from the ferry

I spent much of the last week on the Isle of Iona off the west coast of Scotland, living and working and worshiping at Iona Abbey. When my friend Teri invited me last fall to join the trip she was planning with a group from the church she serves, I almost immediately decided to go along. I have heard about Iona from numerous friends, and we have used the resources produced by the Iona Community and the Wild Goose Resource Group numerous times at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone, so this trip was a long-awaited opportunity to experience this legendary place that has been an important part of my spiritual journey even before I actually journeyed there.

The trip and the place did not leave me wanting. The particular week we attended is known as “Wild Goose Week” because it is the time when members of the Wild Goose Resource Group attend and lead worship and other events. These special events were certainly a big draw for me, but in the end, the overall experience of living in community in this place was actually more formative.

Iona Abbey has a long history as a place of Christian faith and practice. Legend holds that Saint Columba arrived on Iona in 563, establishing a center of Christianity on the island that was used as a base for evangelism throughout Scotland. It is thought to be the place where the historic Book of Kells originated. After the Reformation era, the Abbey was abandoned, but it was reconstructed over the last 100 years and today serves as the spiritual home of the Iona Community, an ecumenical group devoted to justice, peace, and the integrity of creation.

the Toasting Trio

As a guest at the Abbey, I was expected to participate in the full life of the community there, joining in twice-daily worship services and assisting in various tasks necessary to provide for the daily life of guests and staff. I found this to be surprisingly fulfilling, with the worship services providing  much-needed spiritual nourishment for my time on the island and beyond. The work was even enjoyable, as I made some new friends in our shared daily tasks of preparing toast for breakfast!

The programs were also very helpful and enjoyable, with the highlight of most days being a “Wee Sing” with the inimitable John Bell. I learned a lot about making space for worship and did a good bit of thinking about how to revitalize and reinvigorate worship. Members of the Wild Goose Resource Group also led most of the worship during the week, and they brought their deep well of creativity and interest to the gathering.

nearing the Abbey as the pilgrimage comes to an end

One day also meant a full seven-mile pilgrimage around the island. Over 100 people made their way around the island, stopping at important and beautiful spots to pray and reflect on the journey. This was one of the most meaningful parts of the week, and I expect that I will reflect further on it in a future blog post.

My time on Iona was truly a wonderful one. I did not find the immediate and deep spiritual connection I expected, but over the week I developed a better link to the spirituality of this place. The long history of nearly 1500 years of Christianity in the very place where I lived and worked could not escape me, and over the week I felt this connection deepen all the more. It was a joy to join the countless saints who have gathered in this place over the centuries to worship and work for God’s deeper presence in the world, and I look forward to going back sooner rather than later!

You can browse through some of the many photos from this part of my journey in the gallery below.

The Old and The New

I’ve always been a fan of new things. I’m often accused by family and friends of a preference to throw things out and replace them rather than getting them repaired, and their accusations are based in a good deal of truth.

modern sculpture amidst the ancient cloisters at Iona Abbey

All around Scotland, though, I’ve seen countless examples that might just change my mind. The old things that have survived here have an incredible beauty and usefulness that is noticeable and wonderful. Old castles and churches still stand after hundreds of years. Some foundations that date back well over one thousand years are still being used to support more recent construction.

The sense of history and place that results from this is incredible. Yesterday I worshiped in a church building that has stood in one way or another in this place for well over twelve hundred years. As we received bread and wine at communion, I felt strangely and wonderfully connected to countless saints of the centuries who have shared this feast so many times before in this very place.

the crossing and central worship area in St. Giles’ Cathedral, Edinburgh

However, what is even more amazing to me is the ways in which so many of the wonderful old places I have visited in Scotland have been adapted to fit changing needs and times. During the Reformation era, many of these churches were cleaned of their “popish” tendencies, with stained glass and icons removed and the buildings made far simpler. In more recent times, many of these buildings have been adapted once again to fit the changing needs and context of the church. In St. Giles’ Cathedral (the High Kirk of Edinburgh), the four “wings” of the church that once housed separate chapels now face the central area of the building where the communion table and pulpit are now housed. In the Abbey Church on Iona, the ruins of an ancient abbey have been reconstructed to house a modern transient monastic community that encourages an engaged spirituality with a center on this small, remote island and yet with a strong sense of presence in the everyday life of elsewhere. Even in the old castles at Edinburgh and Stirling, we saw evidence of how the castles changed over the centuries, first with changing tastes of individuals and generations and later with their repurposing as more modern military compounds.

Iona Abbey

I think I’ll leave my second visit to Scotland with a better sense of how space can be adapted and adjusted to meet these kinds of changing needs. I don’t think I’ll change my attitude toward the old substantially, as I suspect I’ll still prefer new things to the old. Still, maybe I can be less inclined to replace what can be repaired, out of a heightened awareness of the past and an attention to the limited resources that we have for the future. I think our culture can benefit from a bit more of this – a better sense of the importance of place, a stronger hope for repairing rather than replacing what is broken, and an attention for the future that builds on the best of where we have been and seeks only to make it stronger.

The Wonder of Nature

I spent the past three days exploring the Highlands of Scotland with my friends Donald and Sheena of Portmahomack, Scotland. Their home was a wonderful base for several explorations of better-known places like Loch Ness and lesser-known places like Cromarty and Dornoch Firths.

Words really can’t describe all that we saw over the past few days. We saw several places of human-made beauty like Dunrobin Castle, a couple of places that make beautiful and wonderful things like Glenmorangie Distillery, and some towns like Cromarty and Inverness that are just wonderful examples of Scottish life at various points in the past and present.

However, the most breathtaking things of the past few days have been the beautiful natural scenes that have surrounded us every step of the way. Even the photos just don’t do them all justice – but I’ll share them here nonetheless in hopes that you can get a sense of what I’ve been seeing and doing.

Traveling Memories

This is not my first trip to Scotland. A little over three years ago, my recently-retired friend Charles called me up one day. “Do you have a passport?” he asked. When I replied yes, he continued right away: “Do you want to go to Scotland?” I quickly learned that he wanted to go to Scotland about two or three weeks later to attend the wedding of a friend, and he felt that he needed someone to assist him along the way. Who can turn down a free trip to Scotland with a friend? So I spent a memorable week visiting Charles’ friends Donald and Sheena and attending their daughter Gillian’s wedding. (A pretty extensive photo gallery is already online.)

It was Charles’ last international trip in a lifetime of journeys to wonderful and special places. Not long after our return, Charles learned that he had ALS, often known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, and he died of it last summer. I had the deep honor and privilege of preaching at his memorial service in Queens last September.

Tonight, as I walked through Terminal 7 at JFK Airport to catch my flight to Reykjavik, I passed the gate where Charles and I spent a couple hours waiting for the flight to London that would put us on our way to Scotland. This was the first of many moments on this trip when I know that I will be thinking of Charles. I’ll spend my first four days in Scotland with Donald and Sheena, and I know we’ll be swapping stories and sharing memories of our friend. It will not be easy being on this trip without him, but I know that he would be enjoying every minute of it or at least be looking for a full report upon my return!

The last time I saw Charles in May of 2011, he and I presented a slideshow of pictures from our trip (and several of Charles’ previous trips) to Scotland at the retirement community in Dallas where he moved to be near his brother. While at that point Charles’ body was declining, his brain was sharp as ever. Sharing those memories and stories together was an incredible joy, in largest part because I know how much he loved that trip.

So as I make my way across the pond once again, I am grateful for the traveling memories along the way: for little reminders of my friend Charles and especially our time together in Scotland, for the joy of being back in a place that he so deeply loved and visiting people who knew him well, and for the privilege of making my own traveling memories in this place over the next twenty-five days that will surely go with me for a lifetime.

Why I Go to Church

Being on sabbatical has already provided a space for me to ask some important questions about my life. What is my ongoing call to ministry, both in the congregation I continue to serve and beyond? What do I really do with all my time at “work”? How does my work impact my daily life and living?

the interior of St. Bart’s Church on Park Avenue in Manhattan, July 8, 2012

Most importantly, though, I’ve wondered a bit about why I go to church. I’ve now had two Sundays where I had no responsibilities to lead worship, and yet I still went to church. Some of my friends – in church and otherwise – were a bit astonished at this. They suggested that on my sabbatical I should actually try living like most of the world does, sleeping in, reading the Times, enjoying a favorite morning beverage in my pajamas at home, etc. While I might still try this out sometime in the eight Sundays that remain of my sabbatical, I think I’ll most likely end up in church every week.

Why, you might ask? Well, here are four good reasons.

  1. Repetition. There is something important about setting aside regular time to gather with a community – even an unfamiliar one – to sing praise, listen to God’s Word proclaimed, and spend time in prayer for God’s world. Sometimes even the most familiar words can speak in a new and different way to the experiences of the moment. All this repetition makes worship a very important part of my week, and something feels off if I miss it.
  2. Tradition/Habit. I’ve worshiped nearly every Sunday I can remember. In high school, in a time when my parents were not active in the church, I kept going. I can count on one hand the number of Sundays in college I was in town that I missed worship. For better or for worse, my life doesn’t feel the same when I’m not in a church for at least a little while on Sunday. Normally, “we’ve always done it that way” is a really awful reason t0 continue practices in the church, but in this case, I think it is a valid and reasonable way of thinking.
  3. Community. I grew up surrounded by a very personal orientation of faith, where the individual’s actions and perspective were incredibly important and participation in a community of belief and practice was not nearly as important. Over the years, though, I’ve come to believe that I can’t take this walk alone. There remain times when the faith of the community “bears me through the swelling current.” Worship reminds me that I do not walk this road alone, that I have companions on this journey whom I may or may not know, and that I can trust God to keep working and keep speaking beyond my understanding and even my comfort zone.
  4. Preaching. I’m a good Presbyterian, so this comes as no surprise. Wherever I worship, I need the Word to be proclaimed in faith, hope, and love. As I plan my worshiping communities this summer, I’m not beyond checking church websites to see who is preaching and what the text might be! Still, I trust that what I will hear is inspired by the Spirit and will open me to what I need to hear on a particular day. I found this very much to be true this past Sunday as I worshiped at St. Bart’s Church in Manhattan. Their current priest-in-charge (very similar to a designated pastor in the Presbyterian system) is also a native Mississippian, and his words about home resonated so well with me in my thinking about my home state and even my understanding of home in the Presbyterian Church (USA) after attending General Assembly last week. I couldn’t have asked for a better word in the midst of these times, and I was beyond grateful for it.

So over the course of these two months, I plan to keep up my practice of worship as best I can. There’s also the reality that I am doing reading and thinking about worship revitalization while on sabbatical, so experience worship in different styles and forms will be incredibly important all around. There will likely be a week or two where I can’t do this for practical reasons, but on the whole I plan to be quite the churchgoer for a New Yorker in July and August! Look for more on these things as the sabbatical progresses.