Preparing a Table of Welcome

Communion

2008-07-05T16:47:00.005-05:00

A friend I was baking with recently overheard me say, "This bread is really good. It's terrible." What I was actually saying is, "It's tear-able." I baked bread for communion for the first time today. What a powerful experience! I sat on the floor of our kitchen across from the oven and watched the bread rise. As a welcoming aroma filled our home, I read Jesus' words, "I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst," and "This is my body which is given for you."

It is funny however to consider some of the qualities I was searching for in this bread for communion. I wanted a bread that was truly "tear-able." As one who actually presides at table, I wanted a bread that is actually break-able. If you've never attempted it, try tearing a chewy sourdough loaf with a tough crust into two nice pieces without tearing a muscle in your shoulder. Don't get me wrong, sourdough is wonderful, yet some breads are better suited for communion than others. We'll be taking communion by intinction tomorrow (break off a piece of the bread and dip it into a common cup), so I wanted a bread that would hold up to be dipped in the cup and actually make it to your lips before falling apart. Honestly aesthetics were also important - the image of the loaf itself, the aroma, the texture.

I ended up choosing a bread from Rose Levy Beranbaum's The Bread Bible - an appropriate title from which to draw a communion bread recipe (see page 285). This book was a sabbatical gift from a dear friend and a fellow baker from our congregation.

It is good to be back home, and I look forward to sharing in communion tomorrow at First Presbyterian of Birmingham for the first time since I've returned from sabbatical. I'm glad to be able to share through this bread a portion of this great sabbatical gift that was given to me over the last three months. My colleagues on staff have given me the gracious gift of a "soft landing" this first week back (for which I am grateful).

If you are able this weekend to gather with a community of faith around a table of welcome and share in the sacrament of communion, join us as we pray...

Gracious God, pour out your Holy Spirit upon us and upon these your gifts of bread and wine.

Peace...

Starting and Finishing

2008-06-26T14:09:00.005-05:00

In some ways it is hard to believe this week marks the end of this sabbatical. In other ways it is truly amazing the journey these three months have been. When asked lately how I feel as my sabbatical comes to a close, the real sentiment that continues to surface is one of gratitude. I am grateful for the gift of this time for renewal and re-creation. I am grateful for time with my family and friends. I am grateful for the things I have learned and the places I have been along the way. I am grateful for the abundance, beauty and providence of God's creation.

This week has been one of transition marked mainly by a starter and a finish. Last week I learned that wheat contains natural yeast (as does the grape). When mixed with water, daily feeding and a good dose of patience, flour ferments and creates a starter (levain in French) that can be used to baked wonderful, artisan breads. This last week of my sabbatical I have been nurturing each day a levain I will be able to use to make bread for years to come.

I've also been putting a finish on the refectory-style table I built with my grandfather on my sabbatical. We chose a hand-rubbed tung oil finish which accentuates the natural grains of the wood. This process too requires patience and persistence as each coat of finish needs a full day to cure before the next coat can be applied.

A starter and a finish - both appropriate for the end of this time and the beginning of the next. This table will provide a place for family and friends to gather for years to come, a place where memories will be shared and created, a place of sabbath in the home, a place where communion can be known. This living starter was born this week. Each time I feed the levain and use it to make bread for home, friends or communion, a connection will be reestablished with this sabbatical time, with this gift for which I am oh so very grateful.

Last week I read the 23rd Psalm with new eyes and from a new perspective. As the end of my sabbatical nears and as I prepare to return to the church as a pastor, I heard things here I had never quite heard before in the same way:

GOD, my shepherd! I don't need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.

...You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.

Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I'm back home in the house of GOD
for the rest of my life.

(from The Message by Eugene H. Peterson)

Peace...

Pain

2008-06-19T07:51:00.004-05:00

Brett and I laughed at the back of the Sullivan St. Bakery t-shirt yesterday. It reads – Pain Management. Pain is the French word for bread, and we’ve been immersed in the world of French bread making this week. Our teacher and companion along the way has been Alice Downs, and Episcopal priest here in Monmouth County, NJ. Alice also holds a Diplôme du Boulanger from the French Culinary Institute in NYC.

Brett Hendrickson and I met almost 15 years ago serving as young adult mission volunteers in Buenos Aires, Argentina. We became close friends, at times almost like brothers. More recently time, work, family, geography and such have meant we haven’t seen each other in a number of years. A time to reconnect and share in the baking and breaking of bread was a hope of my sabbatical, and these days have been wonderful.

On Tuesday, Alice Downs spoke with us about and we witnessed the work of the yeast in making of bread/pain. The yeast quietly pushes the rise, giving depth, complexity, texture and flavor to the bread. Though it is pushed down several times in the process, it continues to fight upward. However when placed ultimately in the heat of the oven, the yeast must die. You can clearly watch the dough fall – a visual reminder that life is not without pain and death. However what follows is truly new life, as what was once a sticky mess becomes a beautiful loaf. Pain.

I’ve been reading one of the post-resurrection accounts in the Gospel of John. We had to go through the pain of the Passion and the Crucifixion to get to this point. Now Jesus stands alone on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. His disciples don’t recognize him. A miraculous catch occurs, and only then do they see him. He invites them onto the shore. When they got out of the boat, they saw a fire laid, with fish and bread cooking on it…Jesus said, “Bring some of the fish you’ve just caught…Breakfast is ready.” Jesus then took the bread and gave it to them. He did the same with the fish. (Take a look at John 21.)

Peace…

The Heart of the Pine

2008-06-06T13:36:00.009-05:00

Heart Pine is a fragrant, solid wood that has been used for centuries in our country for building homes, barns, factories and furniture. It often came from the southeast region of the United States. Its name comes from the fact that this wood comes from the heart of the pine.

Antique Heart Pine has an intense grain and durability seldom seem in fast-growth timbers harvested today. I've spent this past week with my grandfather beginning to build a Table of Welcome for my family's home that hopefully will last for generations. I was able to find some antique Heart Pine from recycled timbers that we are using to build a refectory style table, like those used in monasteries for centuries upon centuries.

The olfactory sense has the ability to transport and reconnect us with a world gone by. As my sabbatical approached this idea surfaced of actually building a table of welcome with my grandfather in his wood shop. As we worked yesterday at the band saw I knew this was our time to be spent together.

The smell of the blade cutting through the wood carried me to his workshop of my childhood. I was carried there right back some thirty years ago...that familiar smell of sawdust intermingled with pipe smoke as he'd make yet another rubber band paddle boat for us to play with on the lake. I remembered Thanksgivings and the flagstones on their patio, football games with my uncles in their front yard and the embrace of my grandmother we lost to an automobile accident when I was an early teen.

I love my grandfather, and I'm thankful for this time to spend with him. This table we are building together will carry memory forward to generations yet to come. My hope is that it will be a place of welcome for many - where meals are shared, tales are told and communion will be known.

Peace be with you...

Buoyancy

2008-05-31T14:48:00.004-05:00

With all due respect to those who for health reasons cannot partake, food lacks flavor without salt. I’ve used salt often, both sea and kosher, in the kitchen over the last month. Salt also helps us to float in the ocean. This last week I’ve been with family and friends at the beach. We’ve shared some good time around table and wonderful seafood. I’ve also enjoyed playing daily with my boys in the sand and the surf.

This morning the water was clear and calm with low, rolling waves. For a few moments I found myself floating, thinking about sabbatical. Floating requires a dose of both balance and relaxation, mixed with an open yet quiet attentiveness to one’s surroundings. Rising and falling with the waves as they come. It’s something of an out-of-body experience, a oneness not often found.

Sabbatical has for me in many ways encompassed these very same elements. I’m thankful to have had this time at the beach and the opportunity to reflect on sabbatical while floating at sea.

Peace…

In the Kitchen

2008-05-23T10:53:00.002-05:00

So…what have I been up to?

Working in the kitchen daily, slicing mushrooms – buttons, criminis, Buna shimejis, oysters, & shitakes, peeling and deveining shrimp, cutting red peppers, picking herbs, slicing lemons, peeling roasted red peppers, chopping garlic, picking braised rabbit and chicken, pitting olives, prepping mirepoix (diced carrots, celery and onions), shaving and grating Parmesan, squeezing fresh lemon juice, peeling soft boiled farm eggs, cubing avocados, cutting cherry tomatoes, sharpening my knives, picking lump crabmeat, reducing stock, sautéing mushrooms, preparing garden bites with homemade pimento cheese on celery and baby cucumbers, baking cornbread, slicing carpaccio, making arugula salad, roasting red and fingerling potatoes, pan frying salmon cakes, plating stone ground baked grits, prepping baked oysters, frying soft shell crabs in tempura batter, stacking Friture de la Mer, prepping tuile cups for ice cream, caramelizing crème brûlées, frying apple pies, making strawberry milkshakes, breaking down the slicer, cleaning my station, visiting the farmers, learning a lot, getting a taste here and there of some amazing food, savoring a cold beer or two after a long day’s work and essentially enjoying the company of the people who work the kitchen at Highlands Bar and Grill.

Bon Appetit and Peace…

Providence

2008-05-16T12:21:00.003-05:00

Providence is not a word we often use in our daily vocabulary. Divine providence rings more familiar. From within providence emerges the verb provide, a word with which we can associate…to provide, to provide for.

Food is intimately related to providence. The many hands that work to provide the food that graces our tables. The food over which we say “grace.” Is it not Grace itself that provides life and its sustenance?

In his look at the spirituality and ethics of eating, Shannon Jung suggests two poles around which biblical themes of food and eating concentrate: delighting and sharing. I offer a few reflections about the first of these two and will save a deeper look at sharing for another post.

Until a few days ago I had never seen a group of grown men delight over the beauty of squash blossoms. It is truly a joy to be able to work in the kitchen of Highlands Bar and Grill and to see a passion for food seldom experienced. We regularly receive fresh seafood from the Gulf of Mexico. “What beautiful shrimp!” “Did you see this Mahi Mahi?” From local farmers we receive elegant squash blossoms, bold arugula and tender baby leeks. Marbled pork shoulders and creamy goat cheese from North Alabama grace our kitchen. Providence.

From where does your food come? Ultimately from Divine Providence, and along the way many hands and hearts join to carry your sustenance from field to table. Perhaps we should start with recognizing and appreciating all those who make our daily bread possible. Then, how can we become more local with our food and at the same time more aware of our role in the international food economy? Read about Slow Food here in our country. Get involved by supporting local and regional farmers and producers.

Food is big business, and not just in terms of dollars and cents. We are experiencing the rise of an international food crisis about which as Christians we can’t be complacent. Table was central to Christ’s ministry. Images of feasting are pervasive in Scripture. I’ll leave you with one to consider God’s intention for humankind and our sustenance. An image of Divine Providence…

On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever. Then the Lord GOD will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the LORD has spoken. It will be said on that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us. This is the LORD for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation. (Isaiah 25:6-9)

Peace...

Back in Birmingham

2008-05-08T11:09:00.004-05:00

Everything is so green! While in Mendoza, Tamara and I often commented on the vegetation. It was beautiful, yet so different. Mendoza is arid and dry, and it was fall there. When we returned to Alabama a week ago, it was anything but arid and dry, and it is spring here. Our yard was approaching a jungle-like character, and the greens are varied and lush.

This past week has been one of many transitions - fall to spring, Argentina to Alabama, Spanish to English, South to North, just to name a few. Tamara had to dive right back into her residency at the hospital less than 24 hours after our arrival. The kids are back in school now, and they've both enjoyed reuniting with friends here in Birmingham.

I've begun this second stage of my sabbatical journey and am in my first week in the kitchen at Highlands Bar and Grill. They have a wonderful team assembled, and everyone has been so gracious to make room for me there. I'm learning a lot, on my feet a lot and hope I can help at least a little.

I've also begun my second stage of sabbatical reading, and I had no idea how pertinent these readings would be at this time. The international food situation was a pressing topic in Argentina, and the morning we returned it was fodder for conversation here also. The first in my reads about food is Food for Life: The Spirituality and Ethics of Eating by L. Shannon Jung.

Jung contends (and I agree) that "food and eating are important avenues toward understanding God's presence in the world." He talks about our hunger, our bodies, the gift of food and the importance of both enjoying and sharing it. Might be worth the read.

I'll end with a couple of thoughts from Jung's opening chapter (before I head off to the kitchen). "My fear is that the foundational meaning of eating and drinking may be lost, both the experience of eating and also what Christians understand about food when they say grace or celebrate the Eucharist... Celebrating the Lord's Supper is an invitation into Jesus' death and resurrection. It is no coincidence that this invitation comes at the table that meets our deepest hunger. This table also celebrates our ability to give - to live out to some extent the gracious giving-ness of God - and thus express hope for the world."

Peace...

Una nueva mirada – A new perspective

2008-04-28T09:35:00.002-05:00

Things look different. When we arrived a month ago, the first signs of fall were just beginning to appear. This morning a blanket of yellow leaves covers the ground under the Alamo trees. The vines which were once green are well on their way to becoming bare. The vineyards, and we, commence a new stage on this journey of beginnings and endings, of hellos and goodbyes. Tomorrow we embark on our return to Alabama.

Mendoza has been a wonderful place. This has been a wonderful time. Santiago and Francisco have flourished in their new school and surroundings. Perhaps they are not yet bilingual, however the culture here is now more a part of who they are and who they are becoming. Tamara’s work in the Fundacion Conin has been meaningful, and she has learned things she could not have learned back home. My understanding of vineyards and the vine has undergone a transformation. I now have a whole new appreciation of all the work that goes into bringing the fruit from the vine to our table.

The Anglican Church was my home while I lived in Argentina. While in Mendoza, I have been worshiping at the local congregation, the Lord of the Vine. I wanted to take communion here before I left, and yesterday morning an old acquaintance from Buenos Aires was here to share in the sacrament. I was struck by the readings for the day.

Mendoza is an arid, desert land. Through an intimate connection between creation and human creativity, water from the Andes mountains in channeled down to bring life to this region. An intricate system of irrigation provides the necessary support here for the abundant growth of trees, flowers, grass, and yes, vineyards. The Old Testament reading yesterday was from the prophet Isaiah, chapter 41, verses 17-20.

When the poor and needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst, I the LORD will answer them, I the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys; I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water. I will put in the wilderness the cedar, the acacia, the myrtle, and the olive; I will set in the desert the cypress, the plane and the pine together, so that all may see and know, all may consider and understand, that the hand of the LORD has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it.

With eyes wide open, this image is a living, daily reality here in Mendoza.

My participation in worship this month has been as one of the congregation. Yesterday I was invited to read the Gospel. Before doing so I thanked them for their friendship and brought them greetings from their Presbyterian brothers and sisters in Alabama. I then remarked how powerful it was to hear these words from Isaiah with them here in Mendoza and to then read these opening verses from the 15th chapter of John:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit. You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.”

I came to Mendoza with the hope of a new understanding of Biblical images like these. In a month’s time the pruning for next years crop will begin. The growers have told me how once the leaves have fallen they will take note of how the vines produced this last season. The pruning will be determined by this past harvest’s fruit. Once the branches are cut, they will be piled high and left to dry, and yes, we have used these dried branches all month to light fires to keep us warm and to cook asado (the typical Argentine manner of grilling meat).

I trust much fruit will come from this time in Mendoza. The harvest will be seen in years to come. Today my reflection is in the “abide in me.” Truly there is no life in the vineyard without the vine. Its roots are deep. Its life long-lasting. Even for a pastor it is easy to abide in other preoccupations amidst the daily constraints of life. Perhaps the challenge is to remember first the promise – "You have already been cleansed by the word I have spoken to you"; then the invitation – "Abide in me as I abide in you." Even here too there is a word of promise – "I abide in you."

As I worked in the harvest picking the grapes, I kept re-membering these words, “I am the vine, you are the branches.” As we abide in the one who abides in us, may we bear much fruit and become Christ’s disciples, and in doing so, give glory to God.

Peace be with you my friends…

Compartir la Mesa – Share the Table

2008-04-25T07:44:00.003-05:00

Table. With whom do we share the table? How do we welcome others? Whom might we be excluding from the table? What friendships are forged there? What memories are created?

I’ve spent a good part of the last week around table. Last weekend it was a table of gratitude. We shared a meal with our neighbors from whom we are renting this house. Mercedes and Santiago Benegas and their children – Juan, Florencia, Facundo, Lucía, Santiago, Paz, Francisco & Merceditas – have been a big part of our life since we’ve been here. We wanted to thank them for their friendship and hospitality.

Saturday evening Sylvia Hughes and some of her family came over dinner. Sylvia is a good friend of my “argentine mother,” and she has been such a help since here in Mendoza. She met us at the airport when we arrived to show us the way home. She calls just to check in and see how we are doing. She’s welcomed us to her table for tea, which we all have loved, especially the children.

Sunday after church Alberto Thormann and Alejandra Civit came over with their boys to spend the afternoon over lunch and around the table. Alberto and Alejandra are both talented artists from Mendoza, and they are active in the local Anglican congregation here – El Señor de la Vid – The Lord of the Vine. I worked in the Anglican Cathedral in Buenos Aires all the years I was here, and a friend put me in touch with them when we were making our plans to come to Mendoza. Alejandra was so helpful in guiding us as we were looking for a house, a neighborhood, a school… We’ve enjoyed times together since we’ve arrived, and we wanted to thank them for their friendship.

On Monday one of our dearest friends, Mónica Tompkins, arrived from Córdoba. Mónica is the pastor of the Anglican Church there. We worked together around table with men and women who were homeless in Buenos Aires. We’ve shared countless meals and Bible studies together. Mónica traveled to Alabama for my ordination and installation at First Presbyterian Church, and we shared the table of communion there, where we welcome all whom God welcomes.

It’s been such a treat to have this time with Mónica. We’ve shared meals together with our family and spent time catching up. We’ve enjoyed the fall weather and colors here in Mendoza. We’ve been talking about hospitality in our own lives and in the life of the church, and we’ve been reading together and discussing Radical Hospitality by Daniel Homan and Lonni Collins Pratt.

I’m thankful for these and so many other tables I’ve had the opportunity to share. I hope you too can find or make time to share table with others. Sacred space is created over the meal. Holy encounters await us if we are open to them. Communion changes our lives and can change the world if we’ll let it. My prayer continues to be…Gracious God, pour out your Holy Spirit upon us and upon these your gifts of bread and wine.

Peace be with you…

Wine is Cultivated, not Made

2008-04-17T08:48:00.004-05:00

(Dedicated to the good people of the Bodega Tapiz, Mendoza, Argentina)

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while the Spirit of God swept over the face of the waters…

God said, “Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it.” And it was so. The earth brought forth vegetation: plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it. And God saw that it was good.

For months upon months, the people tended the vineyards. The vines were carefully pruned and nurtured. Once again they grew into fruit-ion. Irrigation canals brought water down from the mountains into the vineyards. The new sprouts were followed by leaves and then by clusters that would yield the fruits and the seeds. These grapes began before last year’s harvest would ever end. The fruit’s maturation was carefully followed by the agronomo and the enologo. When the time was right, they declared, “Let the harvest begin.” And they saw that it was good.

Other people now descended upon the vineyards. The hard work of the harvest was about to begin. The hands of women and men worked swiftly picking the grapes cluster by cluster. Amidst the dust and under the sun, they would fill box after box, bin after bin with Malbec, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Bonarda and Cabernet Franc. When the grapes were all gone, un asado was won. And they saw that it was good.

Drivers aboard their trucks hauled the grapes to the bodega, where yet others unloaded them onto belts. Teams of men and women removed leaves and loose sticks as the grapes made their way towards the tanks where the fermentation would begin. So many have worked to get the fruit to this point and place, and now that their labor was done, they saw that it was good.

Others would now nurture and cultivate the living transformation of the fruit into wine. The enologo with his team would make rounds daily testing, tasting and cultivating the formation of wine. Their helpers would macerate and aerate so that the skins and seeds would have the time necessary to give the wine its color, depth and tannins. When the temperature and the sweetness was just right, a second fermentation would begin ready to remove any rough edges yielding the wine’s delicate subtleties. Wine would be passed to barrels and bottles. This living organism would continue to develop and to grow, and they saw that it was good.

Halfway around the heavens and the earth, divided by what seems like darkness and void, yet another person prepares to celebrate a special night with someone they love. On the way home they stop into a shop. After careful deliberation and discernment, they make a specific selection of wine, a bottle containing the fruit of the labor of these many people. They go home together, and as the dinner is carefully prepared, the wine sits open on the table breathing, recovering and releasing the connection it contains to the land from which it was cultivated. The places are set, the candles lit, the two sit down and the glasses are poured. Swirl, inhale, savor, and as their eyes are opened, they look at each other. They smile, for in that precise moment they sense and see that indeed this is good.

Vola(n)do

2008-04-17T08:45:00.002-05:00

Salí
en busca
de algo dulce
para traer y compartir

Me detuve primero
en el viñedo
donde hombres y mujeres
cosechaban
uva tras uva

Manos pegajosas
por tanto azúcar
llenaban caja tras caja
cajón tras cajón

Me metí entre las uvas
envuelto en su aroma
y arranqué vuelo
sin volar

De repente me encuentro
en una cinta movediza
rodeado por uvas
pero esta vez las manos
seleccionaban hojas y palos sueltos
y las uvas
a triturar

Volando
entré bajo ese techo enorme
y me agarró un perfume
tan intenso y dulzón
¿será esta
la embriaguez?

Apenas aterricé arriba
de un tanque de aquellos
brillante y duro
pero el dulce que buscaba
quedó atrapado
adentro
convirtiéndose
en vino
que alegra
tanto a los hombres
como a Dios

Mejor vuelvo
volando
de regreso
a la colmena mía

por Drew Henry

It is easier to uncork than it it to harvest

2008-04-15T19:29:00.003-05:00

I've spent the last few days with people from the Bodega Tapiz here in Agrelo, Mendoza. I'm hurting tonight because I spent today harvesting grapes. It is amazing all that goes into making wine. We had an early and unexpectedly hard freeze over the weekend. I spent Monday with the agronimist from Tapiz checking all their different vineyards to see the effects of this freeze. I learned a lot about tending a vineyard as we spent the day together roaming around this part of Mendoza.

Today I worked with a group of pickers who harvest the grapes. It is hard, hard work. Many of these people are migrant workers from different parts of Argentina and from neighboring countries, and lightly put, they put me to shame. I did harvest some 200-250 kilos of cabernet sauvignon, but my back and knees are hurting for it.

Tomorrow I'm going to spend the day with the folks who actually make the wine in the bodega. It has been a real treat to get such an in depth look at the whole process, and it gives me a whole new appreciation for the wine we drink. Just before I came to Mendoza I found two wines from Tapiz at the Piggly Wiggly on Clairmont - Zolo Malbec (red) and Zolo Torrontes (white). Give them a try if you get a chance. The people of Tapiz of wonderful.

I'll check back in with you later. Peace...

We made it to Mendoza

2008-04-09T15:48:00.003-05:00

It's been a week since we arrived in Mendoza, and it has taken me that long to find a spot where I could access the internet with my computer. The Andes and the vineyards are rarely out of sight here, and as you can see in the photo above, it is truly a stunning place.

Since we arrived last Wednesday night, we've been getting settled into our new environs. Our neighbors and folks from the Anglican Church here have been very kind in helping us to find our way. Santiago and Paco have started school at the Colegio San Jorge. The house we are renting is just a few blocks away, and I get to walk them to and from school. It is amazing how well they are doing. Today is Paco's birthday - he's three/tres.

It's taking me some time to get used to this new rhythm. Over the past days I've been reflecting on how public my life is back in Birmingham. Perhaps part of the learning for this stage of my sabbatical is to reencounter and reengage with the private/inward/family side of life.

Tamara's off to work fairly early each day. After I walk the kids to school, I've been spending the morning reading, writing and keeping up with the house. I prepare a table for the boys each day at noon, and I get to pick them up from school and have lunch together with them daily. I've got some time in the vineyards lined up over the coming weeks, and for now I'm just trying to listen to what's going on within and around me.

I'll get back to you soon. I hope you are well.

Peace...

Mi Buenos Aires Querido

2008-03-30T15:15:00.010-05:00

It's good to be in Buenos Aires again. We arrived safely on Thursday after a long day's travel, yet without a hitch. We've seen lots of family and friends over the last couple of days. Having lived here seven years there is an intense sense of familiarity I experience walking these streets. It has been fun watching my boys experience this city that has been such a big part of our family's life.

The picture above is of Avenida Del Libertador, just a couple of blocks from where we are staying. As I walked briskly with Francisco in my arms across Libertador the other day, again I looked with amazement at the magnitude of this city. You can only easily count in this picture eight of the ten lanes of this one-way, incoming artery into the city. It is good to be back in Buenos Aires, yet the change of pace and scenery when we arrive in Mendoza later this week will be welcome.

As we immerse ourselves into the place and life of Mendoza, I'll share more with you.

For now, Peace...

Rules of Disengagement

2008-03-17T21:45:00.003-05:00

In just over a week I will be leaving on sabbatical. At last month's session meeting, we approved a sabbatical covenant for this time. I've mentioned to a number of people that it felt like drawing up rules of disengagement, and I believe it is healthy to put these things in writing before departure.

Here's the covenant we agreed upon:

Throughout Scripture, from Genesis’ beginnings to Jesus’ ministry and the church’s witness, accounts of holy activity are clearly set apart by rest, quiet places, and time for restoration. God has given us, God’s people, the Sabbath pattern as a time of renewal, a time to be reminded of whose we are and what we are called to do, a time of rest that refreshes us for faithful living.

It is a gift given to the congregation…a time for leaders to step forward and share their gifts with the community in new ways. It is also a gift given to the pastor…a time to be renewed for ministry and strengthened in their sense of call.

First Presbyterian Church of Birmingham and the Rev. Drew Henry enter this sabbatical covenant as they prepare to begin their seventh year of ministry together. Drew will be on sabbatical during the months of April, May and June of 2008. This leave is not just a reward for longevity of service and commitment, but is an extended period away from normal responsibilities for renewal through personal growth, spiritual formation and continued professional development.

During this time, the church will release Drew from all pastoral duties and responsibilities. Drew commits not to assume regular pastoral duties and responsibilities while on sabbatical.

During his sabbatical, the church will continue Drew’s full salary and benefits. Drew commits to using the Sabbatical Grant for Pastoral Leaders he was awarded from the Louisville Institute to pursue this season of prayer, study, and renewal following the proposal he submitted for this grant.

Upon return, Drew commits to continuing serving First Presbyterian Church for at least four times the length of the sabbatical leave (one year) as stated in our Sabbatical Policy.

While he is on sabbatical, Drew will make occasional posts to the sabbatical blog he has prepared (www.tableofwelcome.org) as a means of staying connected to the congregation and sharing some sabbatical reflections. Drew welcomes and would appreciate comments regarding any posts he makes, and he commits not to respond to any posted comments while he is on sabbatical.

Drew commits not to check his church email or voicemail while on sabbatical, and he commits not to discuss the ongoing work of the church during this time with members, colleagues or staff.

In the case it is deemed necessary to communicate with Drew while he is on sabbatical, Drew will provide our church administrator, Debbie Hamrick, with appropriate contact information. Debbie will personally contact Drew if and when any communication is necessary.

Upon return from his sabbatical, Drew will prepare and submit a written summary to the Session, Committee on Ministry and the Louisville Institute. He will also make time to share with the congregation his sabbatical journey and reflections.

Finally, I, Drew, am grateful for this sabbatical gift and the opportunity to be in ministry with you the people of First Presbyterian Church. I will pray for you and the church while I am away, and I ask you to pray for me and our family during this time of sabbatical.

Gracious God, pour out your Holy Spirit upon us and upon these your gifts of bread and wine.

Peace...

The Mysteries of Lent & Easter

2008-03-13T11:26:00.005-05:00

As I was preparing for Ash Wednesday (a month and a half ago - wow), I came across the work of Jan Richardson. At first I was struck by this image - The Best Supper. I ordered a card from Jan of The Best Supper, and I've been contemplating this image as I prepare for a table of welcome. Twelve people, plus the cat. Bread and wine on the table. Men, women, young and old. The diversity of God's creation gathered at a round table, united in welcome. I can almost hear the song.

I also purchased a copy of Jan's book - The Garden of Hollows: Entering the Mysteries of Lent & Easter. Throughout this season, I've turned to this book as I journey towards Easter and then onto sabbatical. I keep coming back to these powerful words of Jan's (pages 8 & 9):

That's part of what Communion does: it gathers us around the vessels that help us to hear the story, that help us to hear the echoes of Jesus' blessing and offering, to listen to our history, and to enter into it. Gathering at the table of Communion, of Eucharist, invites us to listen also to the hollow places within us, to seek sustenance and nourishment, to be reminded we are not alone. The table invites us to meet Christ and one another at the point of our hunger. It confronts us with the knowledge that we can't get by on our own reserves. And it offers a space where those hungers, and our hollows, can be held.

In a culture that constantly tells us what we're hungry for and how to get our desires sated, it is a marvel that the central sacramental space of the Christian tradition is a table that beckons us to acknowledge that we have deeper hungers and keener desires than the ones our televisions, magazines, and radios inundate us with. To gather at the table of Christ is a countercultural act that challenges us to sort amongst our competing hungers, invites us to name the desire that lies beneath them, and beckons us to resist the urge to stuff ourselves not simply with food but with whatever keeps us from acknowledging the empty places within us...

The table of Christ beckons us to reckon with the complexity of our hungers, how wanting is not simply a belly thing, a bodily thing, but is tied in with so much else. But hunger is also basic. We are human. We get hungry. Christ's table challenges us to discern where we will seek the sustenance for our deepest hungers. And how we will go from the table to work for the feeding of others.

Thank you, Jan, for feeding us and for welcoming us to the Best Supper. May we all be in touch with our deepest hungers and the hungers of the world as we move into Holy Week, knowing that at the table of Christ, we are all welcome and fed.

Peace...

Getting Ready

2008-03-10T22:27:00.005-05:00

It's been a while since I've written. I feel like so much of my time recently has been spent getting ready. At the church, I'm getting ready to be gone for three months with all that entails. I preached a going away sermon on Sunday, and we had a time set aside in the liturgy for a sabbatical sending away.

I've been making travel plans and such, and some of that has been fun. We'll be leaving in just a couple of weeks, and I'm getting ready to go.

I went about ten days ago to spend an afternoon and evening working with the kitchen staff at Highlands. They were so gracious and helpful, and they work really, really hard. There's an amazing camaraderie there, and I look forward to joining them for six weeks when I return from Argentina.

On my way over to Highlands, I stopped by the cleaners and picked up my white alb and stole for Easter Sunday. I experienced a deep moment of re-cognition of what lies ahead. I get to celebrate Resurrection with the people at First Presbyterian Church and then I embark on this journey of communion. There was something powerful in that moment about preparing for both Easter and Sabbatical in essentially the same motion.

I've been reading some of my wine related books recently, as that is the first part of this journey. I finished My First Crush: Misadventures in Wine Country by Linda Kaplan. I've also been reading Romancing the Vine: Life, Love & Transformation in the Vineyards of Barolo by Alan Tardi. Both are about folks who left their life behind to work in the world of wine. Linda Kaplan and her husband left Des Moines, Iowa, and moved to the Williamette Valley of Oregon to make Pinot Noir. Alan Tardi left New York and moved to Piedmont, Italy, to immerse himself in the world of Barolo. Both have offered glimpses of the wine making process. I found the sentiment of Kaplan's journey personally a bit more interesting. While I plan on just being in the wine country for a month (Mendoza, Argentina), it's been helpful to learn a bit about what's involved in this amazing process from vineyard to vine to grape to cup.

I'll leave you with a couple of quotes I've run across in other readings recently.

From Frederick Buechner's Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC:

WINE
Unfermented grape juice is a bland and pleasant drink, especially on a warm afternoon mixed half-and-half with ginger ale. It is a ghastly symbol of the life blood of Jesus Christ, especially when served in individual antiseptic, thimble-sized glasses.
Wine is booze, which means it is dangerous and drunk-making. It makes the timid brave and the reserved amorous. It loosens the tongue and breaks the ice especially when served in a loving cup. It kills germs. As symbols go, it is a rather splendid one.

(Thanks to Steve Stockman for pointing me to that one.)

And finally, from none other than John Calvin himself - for all you Reformers out there:

Wine is God's special drink. The purpose of good wine is to inspire us to a livelier sense of gratitude to God.

Peace...

Sabbatical - who and what?

2008-02-20T17:17:00.006-06:00

I’ve just spent a few days with 48+ pastors and religious leaders. We were guests of the Louisville Institute and invited into fruitful conversation around sabbaticals. The 48 were the recipients of this year’s Sabbatical Grants for Pastoral Leaders. I’m hopeful for the future of the church given the quality of these women and men, and it was an honor (and fun) to spend time in their company.

We are from California and Kentucky, Minnesota and Maine, Illinois and Indiana, Michigan and Missouri, New Mexico and New Jersey, Wisconsin and Washington, New York and Nova Scotia, Virginia and Vermont, Maryland and the Virgin Islands, Pennsylvania and Oregon, Texas, Georgia and Alabama.

We were led in our discussion by David Wood and Eugene Peterson, and after their words have had more time to soak in, I’ll try to reflect on them here. Their conversation in and of itself was a gift. For now I’d like to leave you with a litany David composed. “What is a sabbatical for?” was his question. In seeking an answer, he harvested the verbs from our 48 carefully crafted proposals to get at the action of a sabbatical.

So, what is a sabbatical for?

To touch, to take up, to trust, and to travel.
To participate, to pursue, to perform, to pause, to plant, to practice, and, above all, to pray.
To write, to work, to walk, to weave, and to worship.
To embark, to explore, to exercise, to examine, to experiment, to engage, to enrich, and to enjoy.
To start, to stop, to strengthen, to see, to seek, to sit, to study, to sharpen, to serve, to search and to sleep.
To incorporate, and to immerse.
To understand.
To discern, to discover, to dance and to deepen.
To gather.
To return, re-orient, read, revive, rest, renew, recreate, reflect, rehearse, rejuvenate, reclaim, retreat, remember, revisit, replenish, refocus, reinvigorate, restore, reconnect, and to row.
To journal and to journey.
To be fed.
To create, to cook, to contemplate, and to celebrate.
To balance and to build.
To awaken, to analyze, to attend, and to affirm.
To follow and to float.
To mediate, to visit, to nurture, to hike, and to harvest.
To live, to listen, to learn.
And above all,
To love.

Notice there is no talk of
Cramming or juggling or dabbling or skimming.
Lots of talk of lingering, balancing, deepening and dwelling and reading.

There is no talk of
Preaching, but of listening;
Or of emailing, but of writing;
Or of teaching, but of learning;
Or of leading, but of following;
Or of calling, but of recovering one’s sense of being called.

(compiled by David J. Wood)

If I can experience even a portion of these verbs, I will have experienced sabbatical.

At the moment, in a word, I feel
Grateful.

Thanks to Sheldon, Jim and Keri of the Louisville Institute and to the many others who contributed to our experience.

Peace...

Sabbatical Plan

2008-02-13T14:39:00.006-06:00

As I mentioned in my Welcome post, I received a sabbatical grant from the Louiville Insitute. I am so thankful for this gift, and honestly this sabbatical would not be possible if it weren't for their support.

We've placed a link to Preparing a Table of Welcome on our church's website. For those of you who are interested in the details, we've also posted a copy of the proposal I presented last September to the Louisville Institute for this grant. There may be more there than you want to know. Read what you like.

I've recently finished reading Danny Meyer's Setting the Table: The Transforming Power of Hospitality in Business, and I just started Linda Kaplan's My First Crush: Misadventures in Wine Country. These are a couple of the books that have been recommended to me by others as we've talked about my sabbatical. I'll write more about these reads later.

Peace...

Welcome

2008-02-11T13:05:00.001-06:00

The table is central to our life and ministry as Christians in the world today. In his life and ministry, Jesus continually invited people to the table. The image of the Holy Banquet is present in the communion table, front and center in our places of worship each week, whether or not we celebrate the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. The image of sharing our daily bread illumines our life as a community of faith and inspires our ministries of service and invitation to the world.

I have been given the gift of a pastoral sabbatical from the congregation I serve. I also submitted a proposal for and was awarded a Sabbatical Grant for Pastoral Leaders from the Louisville Institute. I am extremely grateful to both First Presbyterian Church and the Louisville Institute for this opportunity. From April through June of 2008, I will embark on a sabbatical journey of immersion into the art and the essence of communion.

I've created this blog as a tool to both reflect upon and share some of my sabbatical experiences. In the coming months as I prepare for and enter into this time of sabbatical, I will make occasional posts about what it is that I am up to and from where I'm finding inspiration. I've already begun to delve into the initial reading list, and I'll try to keep a list here of some of the books that have been recommended to me along the way.

In synthesis, during my sabbatical I'm going to be working the wine harvest, learning as an apprentice in a professional kitchen, and baking bread and kneading theology with an old friend. I'll tell you more about my plans later. One of the early questions I have is - how will the visceral connection to the vineyard, the daily preparation of food, and the art of baking shape the way I approach the table, extend the invitation, break the bread, and lift the cup?

So, welcome to this table. My prayer during this Sabbatical time for me, my family, our friends, First Presbyterian Church, and the friends we will make along the way is...

Gracious God, pour out your Holy Spirit upon us and upon these your gifts of bread and wine.

Peace...