Farewell to England

Yesterday, I bid farewell to Wales, and tonight, farewell to England. My trip from St. Deiniol's to a hotel near Heathrow was uneventful (thank God), and I was relieved to turn in the keys to my right-side drive, left-side stickshift auto. Currently I am in the airport, awaiting my flight which leaves at 6:30 pm London time.

My time at St. Deiniol's was truly enhanced by the presence of two fellow journeyers on the road. Ian, a priest from Manchester, England, was the acting Chaplain at St. D's for the week. He celebrated the Eucharist daily, made sure everyone felt welcome, and handled any inquiries that came up when staff was not on duty. I found him to be possessed of a quick and thoughtful mind as well as a great sense of humor. Ian was responsible for getting us to Holywell as well as having checked out the history of the site and showing me some of the less well known features of the shrine. Ian was such a blessed source of welcome, second only perhaps to Andy Pandy, Looby Loo and all the friends of Angela! My second companion on a piece of this journey was Deacon Colleen, from Nebraska. She too was on sabbatical, and shared her vocation as a deacon in a way that helped me appreciate even more the presence of our Deacons, Sheila and Jeanette. Colleen had prepared for her journey with research and thought, and with an eye to how her trip could benefit her congregation back home. She was a ready adventurer on any exploration, with the open eyes and heart of the child we are called to be in our lives as disciples.
What better way for Colleen, Ian and I to bid farewell than to hoist a pint in the Blue Bell, Paul Thomas' pub and site of Angela's party!


Sitting in this lounge about to board the plane home is a natural position from which to reflect. It is also time to look ahead: I am really ready to be home, excited about our Appalachian trip Saturday, hoping for minimal jet lag and the ability to stay on the RIGHT side of the road!

See you all soon!

Cathy

Deep Peace

St Winefride's Well, a holy well located in Holywell in North Wales, is not far from St. Deiniol's Library. According to legend, Winefride was the daughter of a Welsh nobleman, Tyfid ap Eiludd. Her suitor, Caradog, was enraged when she decided to become a nun. When he attempted to rape her, she resisted and he cut off her head with a sword. Where her head fell, a healing spring appeared. Her uncle, Saint Beuno, rejoined her head to her body and she lived another fifteen years. Caradog, cursed by Beuno, melted into the ground.

YIKES! And I thought the story of Perpetua was bad (she and Felicitas, her maid, were martyred in the third century by scourging, being set upon by wild animals, and finally being killed by the sword. Perpetua's young inexperienced soldier was assisted by her in guiding the sword to her throat, so that he would not suffer for failing in his duty).

The healing waters of Winefride's well have been said to cause miraculous cures. Known as "the Lourdes of Wales," it has been a pilgrimage site since the 7th century. People come to bathe in its pool or gather some of its water. Each day, the veneration of St. Winefride's relic (a finger bone) is held beside her statue. Another macabre custom, one might think, but in that setting, with the bubbling well water, the waxy smell of the candles, the steps worn by thousands of pilgrims, and the statue of Winefride looking down on it all, it seemed right. Right to remember a holy person whose life brought others to God. Right to remember all those who experienced healing as a result of a visit, or the water or a prayer. Right to pray for those who need healing or to light a candle for them in this most holy place.

At the very least, it was a place of peace.

Peace to you

Cathy

Happy Birthday Angela!

What's a trip to the UK without a visit to a pub? Not too many nights left here, so I tried to scare up a couple of companions to walk the two blocks to town for a visit to the Blue Bell. My mates being much more studious than I, it was to be a solo trip. I steeled myself for the "feeling like a foreigner" funk that had dogged me, grabbed a few "bucks" and set out. Deep breath at the door.
As I pulled the door open, there stood a rosy-cheeked smiling man dressed like a clown. (Actually, I found out later he was dressed as Andy Pandy, a British Boomers' children's show character.) Speechless for a moment, I saw beyond him dozens of people all in costume. I said, "Is this a private party?" He said, "It's Angela's birthday! Come on in!" When I pointed out I was not in costume, he looked at me and said, "You're an American, aren't you?" [I bit my tongue before I pointed out that no one in the country had had any difficulty noticing that!] "Yes, I am," I said politely. "Well then," said Andy Pandy, "You came dressed as an American! Come on in!"
Andy's wife was Looby Loo (of course), and I met Fred and Wilma Flintstone, a nun, the Mario Brothers, Dorothy, the Lion and Mr. T. Talk about hospitality -- this great group of friends knew how to have a good time and knew how to include a stranger. No one let me pay for a drink, there was food, karaoke, jokes and stories. They had gathered to celebrate Angela's 30th birthday; their love for her and welcome for me were as much a sign of God's grace as the open heartedness of L'Arche Liverpool and St. Deiniol's. I blessed the birthday girl and walked back to my room with a smile.

So keep your eyes open today: you never know when a stranger might stumble into your path.

Cathy

L'Arche in the city

The first L'Arche home opened in Liverpool in 1976. The core members came from long-term institutions to live in the house called Anchorage. Today, L'Arche has five homes, a group of flats and a workshop not only for its own members, but for others with learning disabilities who live in the larger Liverpool community. L'Arche has grown and changed here and throughout the United Kingdom; regulations governing the care of people with learning disabilities have likewise changed. And in the past few years, as we all know, the economy has changed, causing more adjustments by organizations and governments. So of course, what L'Arche Liverpool is facing now is how to deal with lots of change.

These are certainly the realities of the community, but my first sense of them was a warm welcome and a feeling of devotion to every member of the community. I stayed in Tabor House, a place for guests and new assistants making their way through the various paperwork and regulations to become employed. (There was a note of welcome and a Twix bar on my pillow!) Martin made sure I had all I needed for a comfortable stay.

My guiding host, The Rev. Jean Winn, set up my visit so I would get the broadest picture possible of Liverpool L'Arche. I spent time in the workshop, where jobs are done and crafts are made for sale. In the printing room, we worked to assemble greeting cards and stationery. Candles and weaving projects, like bags and scarves, were made in other parts of the workshop. There was coffee break and prayer time, all the while with other members' needs being taken care of. In the yard were chickens, and a garden of vegetables and flowers. The workshop is exploring new ways to generate income and provide good work for its members.

I ate dinner at three different homes, enjoying the company of Jean's family one night and the Spring and Coracle homes the others. The prayer times led by the members continued to be the moments of grace they have been in every L'Arche home I have visited.

In the midst of this visit that filled my head with ideas and questions and awe for the members of this community, I had an afternoon off to go to the city center. Liverpool...home of the Beatles...is a lively and funky city. I enjoyed it from the Liverpool Cathedral to Matthew Street to Albert Dock.

Back in the library, I await one more link on my journey. There is a woman in Nottingham connected with the Faith and Light movement (another of Vanier's creations which are communities of people with intellectual disabilities, their families and friends, who meet together regularly for friendship, prayer and celebration) whom it might be good for me to meet.

But if that does not happen, the folks I met at L'Arche Liverpool have given me more than I had hoped to gain here. I know I don't know their whole story, nor do I have a grasp of what challenges may lie ahead; I do know they have everything they need to continue to do amazing and faithful ministry in this place.

And in a country where I felt so much a stranger, at L'Arche I felt at home.

Peace+
Cathy

This is the nook I work in at St. Deiniol's; they are scattered througout the library, some facing over the loft, others facing outside, still others facing shelves of books to the ceiling. I spend chunks of time reading and searching out what others have written about community, and I know it will all just buzz around inside my head until I get to L'Arche again. Meeting the people and hearing about their experience will be what makes the information come alive and get my own ideas flowing. And in between the study I have met people from around Europe and the world, enjoyed walking in the Wales countryside and went to church Sunday with a lively congregation of Anglicans!
I feel somewhat less of a stranger. Some people call me "luv," and say "cheerio!"
I am off to Liverpool now for my visit to L'Arche. Seems David Cameron is visiting Liverpool today too. I'll say "how ya doin'?" if I run into him.

Cheerio!
Cathy

Over the Pond

Never let anyone tell you a trip to another country is just like going to another state. It is not.

I am in total culture shock. The car is small, but fine. The stickshift is even fine. The fact that it and the steering wheel are on the right side of the car has caused a little stress in my driving. Then add the fact that there are roundabouts everywhere to take you where you want to go. I am dizzy from following them around and around until I can decide where to exit. Even the GPS is British: "go straight through the roundabout and take the third exit." How can I go straight through if I am taking an exit? Which one is the third; do I count the one I arrive in? On top of all of this, thank God, the English people are such civilised drivers! They hardly even blow their horns at me, and always smile.


So my trip from London to Hawarden (north Wales) was long and stressful, but very beautiful. The countryside is green, with loads of farms and unbelievable flowers. The library where I am staying (St. Deiniol's) is a veritable castle of books and lovely spots to read or write. Our meals are prepared by two cooks, and there is tea time and Sunday brunch.

On Monday, I will join The Rev. Jean Winn at L'Arche Liverpool for a few days. There will be a "Faith and Light" Meeting, which is a gathering of developmentally disabled folks and their families for fellowship, worship and a meal. This kind of group is often a precursor to a L'Arche Community, but not always. I will also get to meet the core members and talk to some of the assistants.

Liverpool is only about an hour or so away. I should be fine.

Cheerio!
Cathy

Sabbatical Interlude

Tomorrow morning I leave for the last stretch of sabbatical time in England. I have been invited to stay at L'Arche Liverpool, where one hundred and fifty people live in community in several households. I will stay at St. Deiniol's Library in Hawarden, not far from Liverpool, and visit another community in Preston. I have had a taste of the study life in this interlude; I spent six hours in the Drew University Library beginning research on community, inclusion and "otherness." It was a wonderful reminder of my student days, with the bonus of being fully in the technology of the internet and what that has done for easy access to countless journals and other research documents.

There was also time for recreation and rest: a 4th of July trip from Fort Lee over the GWB to the Battery and back via bicycle with Ted -- including a stop at the Dinosaur Barbeque on 131st Street (yum!); a lovely dinner catching up with friends; a trip to the Kutztown Folk Festival.

And of course, the garden. The heat of these past weeks made it impossible to work in it except very early or very late in the day. But it continues to be a source of beauty and strength, a place of meditation and joy in creation. We have attracted a family of woodpeckers with the addition of suet to the bird menu. (If only I could have fed them without the pushy, squawking family of bluejays!)
Enjoy the show of the garden; you may need dramamine to get through it!

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Peace+
Cathy

Marking time

Halfway Down

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.

Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up,
And isn't down.
It isn't in the nursery,
It isn't in the town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head:
"It isn't really
Anywhere!
It's somewhere else
Instead!"

A. A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

Today begins the last third of my sabbatical time. I recalled this poem a couple of weeks ago when I reached the halfway mark. It was our last day in Hawai'i and my first trip on a zipline. At the same time frightening and exhilarating, it might be a good metaphor for living into any kind of experience, including life itself. As I looked out over the valley, some 250 feet deep, and heard the instruction at the edge of the cliff, "just run and keep on running until your feet leave the edge," fear gripped my heart. But the first step into thin air was accompanied by a freedom impossible to describe. Now I don't have any astounding insights or even sermon ideas from this or any other of my experiences yet. I have simply been absorbing them (or jumping into them).

In this break of time between vacation and study in England, the L'Arche Regional Conference took place in nearby Scranton. It was a three-day experience for all core members, assistants and other workers, friends and family, built around fellowship, recreation, worship and fun. They came from Massachusetts, Ohio, New York, Virgina, Washington DC, Pennsylvania, and the newest pre-project in southern New Jersey. I re-connected with the people I had met in Haverhill and Erie, and made new friends in New Jersey and Central Virginia. We swam in the pool, ate lunch together, and were treated to presentations of each L'Arche community. Saturday evening concluded with a foot-washing service as a reminder of how we serve and bless each other.





I continue to be blessed by the people of L'Arche. They are joyful, dedicated to each other, people of prayer. They are not perfect, and that does not stop them from blessing each other and the world.

They remind me so much of the people of St. James', whom I miss immensely in the midst of this jewel of sabbatical time.

Shalom,

Cathy

Fear of Flying

Eleanor Roosevelt said, "Do one thing every day that scares you."
We went ziplining on our last day in Hawai'i.
The video speaks for itself. Alohaaaaaaaa! Cathy

This photo album made with Smilebox

Aloha Hawai'i!

Our Hawaiian trip is drawing to a close. We have adventured to an active volcano, hiked to waterfalls and visited both white sand and black sand beaches. The Big Island is a study in contrasts of land and water and wind. As we biked through Volcanoes National Park, steam vents warmed us and rain cooled us. We rode detours around places where roads used to be, and wandered through a lava tube. The beaches are the stuff postcards are made of, with warm waters and pounding surf for those of us who love the tactile along with the viusal! And through the lazy days in this most beautiful corner of the island (the North Kohala coast), the home shared with us by the good people of St. Augustine's is our home base for exploring -- from coffee farm to macadamia nut factory, from the city of Hilo to the Waipi'o Valley.


The Sunday celebration of the Eucharist was flavored with Hawaiian culture as well as St. Augustine custom. "Aloha" is the community greeting; priest and Lay Eucharistic Ministers wear leis (as well as all guests!). People in the congregation pray the parts of the prayers of the people, and the doxology is sung in English and Hawaiian. This is a joyful community with much welcome and great food at fellowship hour -- just like St. James'.


June 11 was a state holiday here -- King Kamehameha I, who united the islands of Hawaii in 1810, is honored on this day with his many statues graced with multitudes of leis in his honor. The celebration included hula competitions and parades.

Before we leave Hawai'i, we will go to a lu'au and sample the beaches one more time!


Aloha nui loa,
Cathy

Aloha!

We flew across the country and across time zones. Park2Go, Newark Airport, San Francisco Airport, Airport Marriott, San Francisco Airport, Kona Airport, Avis Rent-a-Car, St. Augustine's Vicarage. The trip had taken two days, and as we began the drive up the western coast of Kona, we were drawn in by the beauty and the strangeness of the landscape. On this side of "the Big Island," the earth is formed of old lava flows, black with low, tan grassy plants. Mountains rise to the east and north, not the least of which is Mauna Kea, nearly 14,000 feet when measured from the sea. The ancient Hawaiians thought of the top of Mauna Kea as heaven. Our experience of Hawaii so far leads us to believe they were right.

The people and the Vicar of St. Augustine's Church welcomed us to their spacious vicarage, complete with mango and avocado trees, breezy lanai, and comfortable bedrooms. Vicar Tom Buechele pointed out the best beaches and the best sushi restaurant. We were not surprised by the graciousness and generosity of their welcome, but we were surprised at 3 am the first night when a frenzy of rustling bushes and snorting announced the arrival of macadamia nut-scavenging wild pigs!

Today, Tuesday, we hiked to the black sand beach at the base of Pololu Valley; the trip to the base was easy, climbing back up a bit more strenuous -- a mile and a half with a 400 foot elevation. The black sand is silky and fine, the shoreline edged with wave-smoothed volcanic rock. The beauty of the place is stunning; watching the crashing surf mesmerizing.

We are looking forward to exploring more of the 'aina (land) and hearing the mo'olelo, the ancient stories of the people.

Aloha nui loa
Cathy

Permaculture

I had to admit to the irony of it; on the day I left for the Community of the Holy Spirit's Bluestone Farm, I had to wait for the septic tank company to come and pump the tank and inspect it. First I had to dig through about a foot of earth to uncover the tank lids. Then, being an information junkie, I watched his work, peppering him with questions shouted over the noise of the truck pump. Little did I know that his explanation of the workings of the system would be my introduction to permaculture, a word that I had not heard until arriving in Brewster on Thursday afternoon.

Permaculture is usually defined as an approach to designing human and / or agricultural systems that is based on relationships found in natural ecologies. A good example is sustainable land use design: we attempt to create productive systems that harmonize land and its inhabitants. Within a “permaculture system,” the processes of plants, animals, climate and weather cycles and nutrient cycles are all part of the picture. The principles of permaculture can be applied to any environment and at any scale, from an individual home or farm to entire regions and even urban communities.

The core values of permaculture are earthcare, recognition of the earth as the source of all life, and that we humans are part of it; people care, developing healthy societies and ways to live in harmony with our environments; and fairshare, consciously limiting consumption so that the earth's resources are used in ways that are both equitable and wise.

Ideas are one thing, and experience is another. My experiences include tedious weeding in the hot sun, putting the chickens and ducks to bed, waking up the chickens and ducks, collecting eggs, cleaning the coops, harvesting at least a dozen different kinds of greens for the dinner salad. Nothing is wasted; compost and chicken manure fertilize. Food is preserved for wintertime through drying, use of a root cellar and canning. The farm goods are shared through a local Farmers' Market. A series of interns provide labor as they learn. At Bluestone Farm, the rhythm of the farm work is framed by the rhythm of the daily offices and eucharist. There is a weekly sabbath, and each sister takes a retreat day to herself once a month.

I found this an easy life to join; it makes so much sense, and even has echoes of the L'Arche sense of community in it, though in a very physical way. Oh sure, I was sent out to weed a patch of land for the June tomato planting and managed to pull up some plants with value which looked like weeds to me. It is very hard work to do organic farming, and very satisfying to join in the cycle of life which mimics our own “human” cycles of life and death, health and sickness, the petty, the mundane and the glorious.

This morning I went to a local Episcopal church. It is Pentecost, and five infants were baptized. I missed our children. There were two priests; one had a microphone, one did not. I missed our sound system and the way it is consistently used. I managed to make the trek from sanctuary to coffee hour without a greeting. I left without coffee, and missed our welcome. Yet I loved their spirit and good hearts...and the feeding of the eucharist.

This intentional time away is awesome, full of new experiences and also the dreary things left undone in a busy life. The visit to the DMV Inspection Station, the cleaners whose automated cash register accuses me: “Long time, no see!” and, of course, the septic tank.

But darkness has fallen here at Bluestone Farm. I am off to bed down the chickens and ducks.

The blessing of L'Arche Erie

As I drove up the ramp to Route 80 West, the GPS said in its robotic voice "drive 349 miles on Route 80 west." That was my welcome to the highway, a virtual straight line to the turnoff to Erie, PA. My welcome to the Rose Home, one of eight L'Arche homes of L'Arche Erie, was much warmer: a sign on my bedroom door, the enthusiastic greetings from Bev and Michelle, a quieter one from Joann, and a huge hug from Lisa. These core members of the Rose Home are proud of their house and love visitors. At dinner, I heard about their days at work or other daily activity. They wanted to know how long I was staying and if I had a dog. My two favorite times at L'Arche are dinner and prayer time: dinner because I love to share a meal with lots of people (there were ten the first night) and prayer time because it is quiet and energizing at the same time. The time spent in prayer at the end of the day is full of gratitude and peace; joined with the ordinary time of meal preparation and eating, it is a reminder of how holy our moments together are.

I was really fortunate in this visit to be part of a community day. This is a gathering of all eight houses, core members and assistants and other staff, for a full afternoon of storytelling (by Bob Kloos, who told the story of the workers in the playground, which sounded suspiciously like the parable of the workers in the vineyard!), prayer, games, and of course, a meal.

My favorite moment was at the end of prayer time at another house where I was invited to dinner -- Oasis House, home of four men and assistants. Jason asked if they could sing the L'Arche blessing for me. Around the table, they raised their hands in blessing and sang, "May the blessing of the Lord be upon you; we bless you in the name of the Lord."

On the way out of town, I saw this sign.


I am sure L'Arche folks know all about its message.

And so it begins...

My bag is packed, the car is gassed up and the GPS has the address of L'Arche Erie. I am ready for my second visit to a L'Arche community, this time to the first one established in the United States: Erie, Pennsylvania. I spent some time in February at L'Arche Irenicon in Haverhill, Massachusetts, where I stayed at Gandhi House with core members Jim, Dan, Devin and Tom. Tomorrow the alarm goes off at 5 AM, and I am on my way!

This sabbatical time has three parts: education, re-creation and reflection. I will learn about the L'Arche communities through study and sharing daily life with them; re-create through rest and refreshment with family and friends; and reflect on it all, most likely well after the sabbatical time is over.


I eased into sabbatical mode this first week: choosing "re-creation" time with Ted, we boarded the Yankee Clipper (a ferry on the NY Waterway) in Weehawken and rode to Yankee Stadium by way of the Hudson and East Rivers. It was a glorious day, the stadium is a work of art, and the Yankees beat the Orioles 7-5! Mother's Day found us on our inaugural spring hike (dressed for winter) to Buttermilk Falls in Mendham. The beautiful days of this past week have made time in the garden almost easy.

I am ready for my new adventure!