Easter Cookes - Oh My

My Oh My friend who is honoured with the blog being named after her has found another reason to say "Oh My!". Here is a recipe for Easter Cookies that she found. I had to read it carefully because I thought for sure it was a spoof to make fun of Christians. No, we do a good enough job ourselves.

Our favourite parts - beating the nuts as a representation of Christ's beating, taping the over door shut, the sadness of having to leave Jesus/cookies overnight - because lets face it the kids want to eat the cookies now! I'm a visual person so equating the oven to the tomb automatically equates cookies to Jesus.

Anyhow, my friend has suggested a whole Outreach Bible Cookbook - apple pie with a pastry snake on top. I am starting to think of tasty ways to cook up the animals on the ark.

Easter Story Cookies


This is a great tradition to start with the family. Read from the scriptures as you spend time together baking cookies. Each step of the recipe parallels a truth from the quoted scriptures.

Ingredients:

1 cup pecan halves
1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar
3 egg whites
1 pinch salt
1 cup white sugar

Directions:

Preheat oven to 300° F (150° C).
Place pecans in zipper baggie and let children beat them with the wooden spoon to break into small pieces. Explain that after Jesus was arrested, He was beaten by the Roman soldiers.
Read John 19:1-3
Let each child smell the vinegar. Put 1 tsp. vinegar into mixing bowl.
Explain that when Jesus was thirsty on the cross, He was given vinegar to drink.
Read John 19:28-30
Add egg whites to vinegar. Eggs represent life. Explain that Jesus gave His life to give us life.
Read John 10:10-11
Sprinkle a little salt into each child's hand. Let them taste it and brush the rest into the bowl. Explain that this represents the salty tears shed by Jesus' followers, and the bitterness of our own sin.
Read Luke 23:27
So far, the ingredients are not very appetizing. Add 1 cup sugar.
Explain that the sweetest part of the story is that Jesus died because He loves us. He wants us to know and belong to Him.
Psalms 34:8 and John 3:16
Beat with a mixer on high speed for 12 to 15 minutes until stiff peaks are formed. Explain that the color white represents the purity in God's eyes of those whose sins have been cleansed by Jesus.
Read Isaiah 1:18 and John 3:1-3
Fold in broken nuts. Drop by teaspoons onto wax paper covered cookie sheet.
Explain that each mound represents the rocky tomb where Jesus'
body was laid.
Read Matthew 27:57-60
Put the cookie sheet in the oven, close the door and turn the oven OFF.
Give each child a piece of tape and seal the oven door. Explain that Jesus'
tomb was sealed.
Read Matthew 27:65-66
Go to bed. Explain that they may feel sad to leave the cookies in the oven overnight. Jesus' followers were in despair when the tomb was sealed.
Read John 16:20 and 22
On Easter morning, open the oven and give everyone a cookie. Notice the cracked surface and take a bite. The cookies are hollow! Explain that on the first Easter, Jesus' followers were amazed to find the tomb open and empty.
Read Matthew 28:1-9

Shut Up!

Whoa, it happened today. My mother-in-law told her daughter to "shut up". In a forced through the teeth whispery kind of voice. In front of me and her support worker.

I had heard of this kind of behaviour but had never witnessed it because quite frankly she has never had the audacity to tell me to shut up. Apparently this is a favourite action towards her daughter.

So we are sitting there and I hear this violent "shut up!" and I called her on it pretty forcibly. How can anyone tell their daughter to shut up especially in front of other people. I told her that she has never had the balls to do that to me and that I know she wouldn't dare do it so she should not be doing it to her daughter either. She was taken aback, I know she thought I couldn't see from my angle and she forgets that with her hearing she is louder than she knows. She started to say she never said it and then changed to say she was "just joking".

Anyhow, I am still in shock just how nasty this woman can be. She has been on much better behaviour with me obviously - I've been told that I scare her. Well if intimidating her is the only way to keep her from being so mean I'm not sure how to respond. Is it better to be nice and let her do whatever she wants to people? I don't think so but as a Christian I'm not sure where the boundary is.

Once again a retirement home has been suggested - every professional that has been in contact with us tells us that she is not safe even with the restrictions in her home, but she refuses to discuss it - hence the "shut up".

I think as a family we have decided we have done all that we can do and have reasoned as much as we can to better living arrangements. Short of forcing her into a home which legally we really can't do, there is no way to provide better then what she has. Which is inadequate as she cannot leave her apartment by herself. We suspect she will begin to do all the things that she is restricted from and I personally doubt she will avoid a serious fall before the end of the summer.

We are All Deaf and Blind

I have been preparing my sermon for Wednesday on Doubting Thomas. A favourite guy of mine because he had the nerve to actually question the reality of the risen Christ from the grave.

And while working on this sermon I reflected on what he had going for him - he was part of a small group, he liked to ask questions (Lord, we don't know where you are going), he would follow Jesus to death (Let us go and die with him). Do you notice to that the talks about himself in terms of community - we and us. He was ripe for faith and yet when the other disciples kept telling him about Christ arisen he refused or couldn't believe.

With the thoughts of the nursing home crowd in my mind I was thinking what I didn't have going for me - some are blind, some are deaf, some are not really cognitive. But you know, that is all of us. None of us "found" Christ - we are unable to find him on our own. We are blind and deaf and with defective reasoning. Instead of thinking that the nursing home is the hardest place to preach it is the most honest place to preach. It is the place where nothing I say or do will convince anyone of anything. My actions, my willingness to come points to something - but I have no power that is not given to me except by God. So really, my best preaching will be there because I can't rely on the cheap jokes and passionate response to emotional words.

Somewhere is the dividing line between preaching technique and faith - trying to spend enough time on both is what is needed.

Best Worship

I was asked to do the service today at a nursing home.

I spend most of my time trying to find someone who did not have plans on Sunday afternoon to play piano. Finally, as I was trying to find midi files to play in lieu of a pianist, an angel was found who was available.

I thought about the message and came across Romans 8. There were parts of the passage that talked about no one able to condemn us and that nothing separates us from the love of God. So I centered my talk about what Easter means in terms of God's love using John 3:16 as a starting point as I figured the older folks would know that passage by heart and would like to hear it.

I didn't put a lot of effort in making the reading come alive - the passage is so self explanatory that to add to it almost detracts from it. I felt guilty for not pouring more time into it but couldn't find a way to add to it without lengthening the service or adding words just to appease the sermon critics.

It was awful. My pianist arrived a bit late and without her glasses. We tried one song - Christ Arose which is too low for me and the tune is a bit foggy for me until we get to the chorus. That was when it became really clear that the pianist needed something to help her see the notes. As she ran off to find some reading glasses I plugged along.

At one point, one of the women looked totally disgusted with me! But I understood - hearing about Christ isn't the same as experiencng Christ and if you live in a nursing home you are bound to be jaded. I continued on relieved to see the pianist back with her glasses.

Amazing Grace went much better - and it was at that point that I figured out why the lack of a tune was killing me - there were none of the strong singers from the church who normally help out! The room was relying on me and one other woman (who didn't agree with me on the tune) to get through the songs. I just tried to sing a bit more confidently and cut out some songs.

Thankfully, after Amazing Grace the daughter of a resident told us about the story of its writing and I was able to tie that into the grace of Christ and what it means for someone to be absolved of their guilt. What a relief for a bit of an intervention.

On my way out to the car, I thought about my recent preaching experiences which have been so disappointing and wondering if I just don't have the skill set for it and its time to face this honestely. Then I thought about my next sermon on Wednesday which is about how I can't convince someone to come to faith, I can only provide a witness.

The nursing supervisor thanked us many times for coming on Easter - they weren't expecting a service because I guess they knew everyone is too involved in their own plans. One resident recited John 3:16 with me (I was wise enough to take it from the King James version). Most residents joined in on the Lord's prayer and many sang Amazing Grace and Rock of Ages. I think our efforts with our sincerity was magnificent to God.

If preaching comes hard in these situations then it makes me rely so much more on God to do his thing. Whether these experiences are a just a means of teaching me this I don't know. I know when I first started preaching I always got good reviews. I pray that I will have the wisdom to know whether this is testing me for my humility or whether I just suck at giving the message. I get to give it another try on Wednesday in class, but I have to say I am feeling very unsure.

C. told me later that the woman who was making faces and seemed so annoyed at the message was actually reacting to a lady sitting across from her who was making chewing faces! To continue to bring a message with all of these worries and distractions was good and I think I learned some more today.

Christian Stuff

Don't know if anyone reads this very often, but if you do you might notice that I have been quiet. I've been experiencing life. Which means its been a bit of a mixture of ups and downs and decisions. Being quiet is good, normally I'm impatient to make a decision and force people to abide by it!

I think I've left my "Christian" teen years where being impulsive and passionate is slowly giving away to a more matured response. And also a realisation that all of the communities that we serve and serve us can only take us so far. And sometimes they don't take us where we need to go at all. Sooner or later as we mature we realise that all the best advice in the world is just a perspective and like all perspectives there really isn't a right or wrong.

So how does one make decisions in this space? Well, as a Christian I look for guidance in Scripture - and that's tough. Because I know what "should" be happening based on Scripture. But I also know what may happen if I follow it. It seems that my role so often in this new life has been to not go with the flow of the river, but to slow the flow, frustrate it. But a river keeps moving quickly along once it gets past the disruption. Its the rock in the river that ends up yielding bit by bit by the continual battering.

Not a good frame of mind for ministry. And it has crossed my mind that this all seems futile and the first advice of not going into ministry was maybe the best I ever received. But then I take a breath and go back to Scripture. In a post modern mind it is very hard to remember to follow "Truth". There are so many truths that are false promises. But I remind myself that if I don't believe that Scripture is different then I've already left ministry. I have no idea where I am going career wise. I know I have had an influence in my small way in my arenas, I pray that it was for the glory of God. But I still feel stuck, not going with the flow means not fitting in at church, not going with all the advice that I have been given - most of it conflicting anyway.

This is the best time of year to have this reflection. I am preaching at the nursing home on Sunday (hopefully no one will scream out "I want to die" this time) and I am preaching on that nothing can separate us from the love of God. Easter in a nursing home seems like a place to preach hope without really engaging in the reality of the congregation. But the passage is for me as much as for them. Rather than the sugar coated messages of candy filled filled mouths is the other side of Easter - that the darkest places are still in the light. That we are not forgotten, that we are not and can never be separated from the love of God. That sometimes the only comfort we have in our bodies and our spirit is this promise. Without Easter, nothing is bearable.

That's why I like the photo up top - taken "borrowed" from a friend's collection of work. Its sunrise and the light casts promise of more light, the trees will become clearer, the snow will melt to reveal the landscape more clearly. There is more than I can see now.

Who Are These People?

I have a thing about greeting cards with photos of people on them. Who are these people? What kind of stock footage is this? If they are funny cards, I don't mind. But engagement cards, Valentine's - anything with a real sentiment bothers me - it just annoys me that the anonymous strangers are icons for my sentiment.





So you can imagine my irritation when I went to grab a cup from W's cupboard with a photo of three smiling, anonymous, children on it. I had a feeling I already knew the answer, but on the off chance they were some relatives from Holland, I asked, "Who are these people?" Apparently, they are the grand children of a dead resident down the hall. The children of the deceased wisely knowing that its a hassle to cart off stuff to Goodwill suggested the tenants take anything they could use. Hence the cup. The other 19 mugs weren't enough I suppose.

I'm getting old.

I cut myself on a broken vase unpacking W.'s stuff from her return from Rehab. Two thoughts ran through my head as I looked at the blood. "Boy, it looks like my blood is iron rich today" and "Gee, that's a great opportunity to check my blood sugar - too bad I don't have my monitor with me".

Next I had the problem of needing a band aid. I know where they are in her house because we surreptiously took the opportunity to do a little digging to get rid of stuff that should never have made the move with her. I need a band aid but will she remember where they are (stuffed in the top drawer of her dresser with glasses that don't belong to her, little folding scissors that couldn't cut anything, a weird tube like thing with numbers from her husband's old work, bits of paper, manuals, letters and important stuff, empty containers, and stuff). If I go get the band aid then she will know that I know. Luckily she remembered where they were.

Which reminds me of the nightgowns. Up on the top shelf there were these two white nightgowns with Care Bears on them. They were stained and worn out. Taking the opportunity to at least get rid of some of her excess of clothes I chucked them. I had no idea that they are actually the nightgowns she uses all the time. How could I have guessed? Luckily there was one that escaped my pillaging. W. is annoyed and can't understand why I threw out perfectly good clothing. I pointed out that if someone came to the Salvation Army with that nightgown that they would throw it out and give something better out of their stockpile; surely she should have clothing at least as good as that.

To prove my point I pulled out a white t-shirt which is stained all down the front. With dozens of shirts why keep this? She insists that the washing machine at the building is very bad and everyone knows it. This is a typical response which I can't win since the logic just isn't there - I really don't care why its so stained, I really want to know why it can't be thrown out.

C. and I were laughing on the way home because he brought up that she is embarassed to wear her Lifecall button around her neck but has no problem with the stains!

Anyhow, I do feel bad that she feels her rights are violated but its a difficult thing - she has the money to have nicer things but she won't throw anything out and I'm not sure she sees well enough to know how bad some of the stuff is. If she was in a nursing home dressed like that I would be upset that no one could find something better. I'm off to buy nightgowns at some point during my visit today!

Fast Food Communion

If there is one thing I love about the RC denomination its the chance to dress up in girly girl clothes for first communion. Especially the veils. Other than your wedding day there is no other chance to wear a veil (except for those nifty widow veils over your eyes but that's not quite an event where I would probably remember to buy one).

I was really impressed with as W. had been getting communion every morning while in Rehab. It seemed like such an effort to give communion everyday to so many people.





We were sitting in the cafe in the lobby when the priest was passing by and saw W. He started with the pleasantries which appeared to be that the was just quickly idling to say "goodbye" when in one full movement he went from "So you are going home" to crossing himself ".... Body of Christ" the communion wafer comes out of nowhere and before I even realise what is happening he is gone after wishing her a well.





Huh? For a denomination that believes in the wafer actually changing to the body of Christ it seems a little like communion at McDonalds. I had been expecting a moment of them seated together with a word of prayer at least. Its also funny to me that because we are not patients we are not offered communion. Separating the sheep from the goats I suppose. C. said maybe we didn't look Roman Catholic enough. I think the stunned look on my face gave me away - its funny because though C. grew up Roman Catholic (and attended a boys RC school) I often know more about the tradition then he does. Based on how much he seemed to learn about his own religion in a RC school I suggest that all parents teach their children sex ed. Don't assume that they remember anything that the teacher presented!

World Day of Prayer

I was supposed to do a sermonette at the World Day of Prayer. I had one written but looking at the people who came and the content of my topic I had to change it quickly. There wasn't anyone from my generation there - maybe a few. They were mostly from the generation that has always gone to church and are now retired and still volunteer. I had written it with a more wider age range in mind to include those who work with children and live outside of the church community, those that may not be very well connected with their neighbours due to their busy lives.

I panicked as we went through service thinking about how I could tweak my words to make them more relevant - less instructional and more reflecting on how church and community has changed. Then I was saved.

The organizer insisted on introducing me so I wrote an very short introduction for her. Rather than call it "seminary" she called it "cemetery" (if you can never remember if its "e
s" or "a's" in "cemetery" just remember we all go "eee" as we walk past). I didn't notice as I was still ruminating on whether I could wing a whole new talk - the program listed it as a sermon or reflection so I had a bit of room to move. Well I heard people say "cemetery"? But it got worse - she mentioned that since I'm a student they are my guinea pigs. She added "happy little guinea pigs" I guess to make it sound not so bad. I was off the hook! With that lead up, who expected anything?

So I was able to do a "reflection" which sadly meant that in the confusion I missed one of the theological points I wanted to address but what can you do.

The other moment was when I went to use the bible at the lectern. I had carefully asked which version they use. Different Bible versions have different translations so if I use a word from the reading in my sermon to expound on an idea but their translation is different it makes no sense. Well they use the New English Bible which is not really considered the best. Actually, I couldn't find it anywhere on the Net and I ended up having to go to Tyndale to get the actual reading (then found out that my first bible I ever got was NEB and sitting on my bookshelf!).

Anyhow, when I arrive, I again check that the Bible is in place and ready to go. Well, no. The Bible that is in place an ready to go is not NEB and translates slightly differently. But the Bible's in the pews are NEB and some of the people really like to follow along. Very confusing and distracting to say the least. I will now never come with my sermon ready without the translation typed at the top so I have it regardless of what Bible they have at the front. I like to read from the Bible at the lectern because visually it is understood that these are not my words but the words of the Church. Its a small thing but I'm a visual person.

Lessons learned! In the end people seemed to appreciate it. One of the youngest said it gave him a lot to think about which had been my original intent. It wasn't my best but my best for the circumstances and I was pleased that people referred to it as a "talk" and "reflection" so they took it for what it was!

Senior's Moments

I have a respect for the older crowd. I've volunteered with seniors and took a health care aid course which required working hours in a nursing home. I couldn't hack the nursing home scene, I'm not fast enough in feeding people and had a hard time lifting them on and off of the bed and toilet (and this was over 20 years ago and a 100 pounds ago)! But I couldn't think of a better title for capturing the transitional times for my family as we move an older member back into the home with lots of safety iniatives and changes to actitivites of daily living. The "senior's moments" aren't hers nearly so much as mine. People nod their heads and go "oh yeah, my grandmother does that too".

Boxes. If it comes in a box, then the box must be kept. That's great if you have a storage room or a basement, otherwise its a huge waste of space. And trust me, when we move her stuff we are never going to try to put that tv back into that tv box. That's okay though because the huge box from one her items was able to hold everyplastic bag that has ever come into the apartment. Even bags that things came in. I don't know when the last time was that she visited "La Vie en Rose" but she has their bag.

Plastic containers. Any plastic container that has ever come into the house must remain. You never know when you need one. Usually we are good about and we recycled a lot of stuff but I gave up trying to figure out which ones could and could not. And with a garbage shute just down the hall.

Huge tubs. The huge tubs that cream cheese comes in at the local bagel shop. I think we took about ten of them downstairs (don't fit in the shute!). Apparently they were on hold for people who might want them. If I had dogs the size of ponies I might keep their dog food in their or use it to scoop the yard but other than that I have no idea what they could be used for. Apparently no one else knew what they would be used for either.

She also has an old rusty ironing board. On her balcony. I have a feeling that it might be there for plants but I just don't know. Better check before I hump it down to the garbage!