The leaving

Is it best to leave on a sunny day

when the light reflecting on the water

carves out a path on which memories

continue to accumulate with alacrity?

Or on a rainy day

when the greyness encourages

a quiet melancholy of sifting and sorting

of beauty beheld and friendships forged?

The leaving is bittersweet

as the island seems to  lighten,

tipping its cargo of human freight

onto the ferry even as it swallows up

another disgorgement

Such is island life

a constant ebb and flow

along with the tide

of coming and going

of advancing and receding

of flotsam and jetsam 

that finds its way

into the fertile soil

of the fragile yet resilient machair

that sustains abundant living

in sunshine and in rain.

(Liz Crumlish 30 June 2023)

Sustainable love for wild souls

 

Matthew 9:35-38 (The Message)

Then Jesus made a circuit of all the towns and villages. He taught in their meeting places, reported kingdom news, and healed their diseased bodies, healed their bruised and hurt lives. When he looked out over the crowds, his heart broke. So confused and aimless they were, like sheep with no shepherd. “What a huge harvest!” he said to his disciples. “How few workers! On your knees and pray for harvest hands!”

Jesus saw the need around him

and he did what he could.

He knew he wouldn’t get to it all

so he equipped others

in that ancient tradition 

employed since Moses was a boy

when his father in law cautioned him

about overstretching.

It may be good for the ego

but not good for the body or soul.

Ministry is a shared endeavour

discerned and exercised in community.

We care for one another

when we also care for ourselves.

This we know in our minds

and our one task

is to practice loving ourselves wholeheartedly

until our tender souls are assured

that it is safe to quietly emerge 

with that vulnerability and courage

that belongs to the wild soul

And when the wildness of our souls 

is nurtured and cherished

love - sustainable love

is a possibility

for body, mind and soul.

(Liz Crumlish 22.06.23)

Alert to interruptions

 Matthew 9:19-22

And Jesus got up and followed him, with his disciples. Then suddenly a woman who had been suffering from haemorrhages for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak, for she said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well.” Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And instantly the woman was made well.

What intuition alerted Jesus

to the particular need of the woman in the crowd?

What made him pause as he followed the one who requested

healing for his daughter?

And how might we be alert

even as we are engaged in the mission of God

to the needs of those around us

those we might have overlooked?

How might we cherish the interruptions

and the distractions

seeing in those the prompting of God?

When our plans are disrupted

how might we reposition

our will to catch up with God’s will?

And, when chaos ensues,

how might we be calm

grasping opportunities presented

to do that one thing

that stabilises

that brings order 

that responds to the presence of God

in every place and time 

for our healing

and the healing of the earth?

Follow me

Matthew 9:9

As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him.

In 2017, I reflected on the transition out of parish ministry into a national role in mission and pioneering in the Church of Scotland. A transition that involved navigating loss of role, loss of home and loss of faith community.

What I didn’t realise then is that that would also lead to a move out of the denomination in which I’d served as an ordained minister for over twenty five years.

That move began with being restored and renewed in faith by being enveloped in the liturgy of the Scottish Episcopal Church and the tenacious love of God.

This week, I had cause to reflect further on where that adventure has led so far. Having transferred orders and being ordained episcopally in the SEC, ministry, for me, now involves offering pastoral supervision and retreats alongside working with those in formation for ministry in the SEC and, next week, I’ll be licensed as priest in charge in the community I’ve been serving for the last three years. All of these, together, nurture and sustain joy in service. I’m incredibly grateful for the recognition of and the opportunity to exercise gifts that don’t fit into a prescribed role or model of ordained ministry. 

Jesus’ call to ministry was never without risk or without loss. Still, it is a dynamic summons to bear the light of Hope into every darkness. Ministry today calls for the ability to be nimble, to follow a God who doesn’t stand still or conform to our preferences but who calls us out of our structures - whatever they be - to follow God wherever God is already at work.

And, as soon as we turn to follow God, we find God following us in a divine dance in which we are invited to participate in ever widening circles.

Following the God who follows us all through life.