L'Shana Tova! (Happy New Year!) 5775

Over the last few weeks Steve and I found a synagogue to attend together.  There was a little more urgency in this matter than finding a church, because the High Holy Days were coming up on us quickly.  

Rosh Hashanah (ראש השנה) arrives this evening.  We will be attending services this evening, and tomorrow morning at a local reform temple that has been incredibly welcoming of both us (even this Presbyterian seminarian).  The assistant rabbi even offered to help me study Hebrew if needed!

Our interfaith relationship has provided more surprising joys than headaches thus far.  Last year I enjoyed meditating on the intersection of waiting for the Light to come during Advent, and celebrating the Light that would not be extinguished during Chanukah.  Pastor Roula's sermon about Joseph (from Genesis) on Sunday was particularly moving for both Steve and I.  

Similarly, this time of the year has always felt innately "newer" to me than January 1st.  Maybe it is because I have spent so much of my life learning and teaching on the "program year" calendar, or maybe because the harvest always provides such joy.  The bleakness of winter is a rather depressing time to make a new start.  Venturing to the gym for that age old New Year's Resolution on January 2nd in the snow and sub-zero temperatures is not exactly motivating.  

Part of Rosh Hashanah is making amends with those you have wronged throughout the year, asking God for forgiveness, and anticipating the sweetness of the coming year; any holiday that involves eating apples dipped in honey is something I can definitely get behind!

L'Shana Tova!

Polar Opposites

As I was scrolling through my Facebook News Feed today, I saw that my good friend (and fellow Presbyterian) Amy Finiki also wrote a blog post this weekend:

Spring Has Sprung in September

Amy grew up in New York State, and now lives in Christchurch, New Zealand.  In her article she compares the newness of a program year beginning in September in North America to the excitement of spring in September in New Zealand.  

When I was reading Amy's piece I was reminded of one of my favorite quotes from "You've Got Mail" by Nora Ephron.  When Joe Fox and Kathleen Kelly begin anonymously emailing one another (via now archaic AOL email address platforms and dial-up connections), their first conversation is about fall in New York City.  Joe remarks that if he knew Kathleen's name and address that he would send her a "...bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils."

As a former teacher, there is nothing better than a freshly sharpened pencil.  I wish I could send each of you a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils to fill in the pages of your new program year.  I will have to settle for wishing you a fresh start and the energy that the cool nights and sunny days of September bring with them.

Now go buy yourself a fresh package of Ticonderoga #2 Pencils (you know you want to).

Black Eyed Susans and Zinnias

This weekend Steven and I went home for a wedding.  We stayed with Mom and Dad for two nights and we got to enjoy all the pleasures of home in the (almost) fall.  My parents work their full time jobs like everyone else, but over the fifteen years they have lived in their current home they have become rather impressive flower, fruit, and vegetable gardeners.  Late September brings apples, grapes, blueberries, pears, squash, peppers, tomatoes, pumpkins, gourds, and an assortment of wildflowers Mom plants every year.  

credit: Angela Doll Photography

While I've always known that a visit home can be grounding and energizing, this weekend was a wonderful reminder of that.  We returned to our new home with a homemade frozen apple pie, acorn squash, peppers, and homemade blueberry muffins.  Mom and Dad also gave us two small plaques as a housewarming gift.  The first plaque is a Jewish blessing, and the second is an Irish blessing.  We will be hanging these together in our new apartment as one more sign of the blending of our two faith traditions, and the love and support we bring with us to this place.

Playing Off Leash

Saturday morning Steve and I walked our dogs, Teddi and McTavish, around our apartment complex and into the large field in front of it.  Five year old Teddi (a model canine citizen who always comes back to us when called) was eager to run around off leash, and Steve let him go right away.  Seeing this, McTavish was equally eager for some freedom.  For those of you who might not know McTavish's backstory, he turns two years old today and came to us via adoption at six months old with some "issues" to overcome.  He has made great strides in the last year and a half, but we have never let him off leash anywhere except our fenced in backyard.  He got out of the front door of the house once early on, and I caught him quickly, but I think he was more scared than trying to escape.

Steve talked me into letting him go in spite of my anxiety level.  Luckily McTavish is so devoted to his big brother that all he wanted to do was follow him everywhere.  The two of them ran around and came back every time we called them.  They played themselves silly, and finally laid down in the grass from exhaustion.  So much joy and excitement; all made possible because Steve convinced me to relinquish a little control.

I generally put a lot of value in control and order.  I know this must come as a shock to those that know me well ;).  There is more to seminary than studying Hebrew and Old Testament; by that I mean stretching myself spiritually and emotionally.  My other college degrees have focused on learning on how to write, think, and process information.  While I have very little experience, so far I am getting the impression that a great deal more introspective and personal work will be required for this "degree".  While letting McTavish roam around the green space in front of our apartment seems to have very little to do with the work of seminary, the more I thought about it today, it must just be the biggest accomplishment I've made so far.  Every new experience, and every time I let go of control, reinforces new ways of thinking and being in the world.

"It's my birthday!"

  

McTavish keeps watch while Teddi takes a break.

Pentecost Moments and Kindergarten Hebrew

This morning the academic year began with a service of word and sacrament at Miller Chapel.  The ever present Holy Spirit became flesh in worship with the singing of "Spirit of the Living God".  Two soloists began the song; the first soloist in Spanish and the second in Korean.  Following their solos the congregation sang the refrain several time in unison in our native languages.  Just a few of the languages heard were Spanish, Korean, English, Taiwanese, Mandarin and French.

Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me.  Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me.  Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me.

In other news, I attended my first Biblical Hebrew class this afternoon.  I came out alive and well, which was a relief.  I was certainly nervous, given that it has been ten years since I have studied a language, and the fact that I have heard learning Hebrew is difficult.

My homework this weekend is to begin learning the Hebrew alphabet.  When I went to the computer lab after class to download some assignments for the weekend, I happened to check my email and received the following advice from a former seminarian, and wise friend:

Embrace your ignorance, approach it like a kindergartener for whom everything is new and exciting, and don't be afraid to ask questions no matter how dumb they seem.

Finally, something I understand!  If there is one thing that I do already understand, it is the mind of a Kindergartener.  Just one more instance of grace; the timing of that message could not have been better.  While I study the (beautiful) characters of the Hebrew alphabet this weekend, I plan on embracing my ignorance, and enjoying the newness of this season of my life.

My 21st First Day of School

This morning I begin my 21st first day of school as a student.  If my years teaching second grade and Kindergarten were included it would be my 26th first day, but who is counting?

When I graduated with my first masters degree I joked with my friends that I was done being a student "forever".  I guess God had the last laugh on that one.  If I have learned anything, it is that I will no longer make grand and final pronouncements about my future.  I realize now that I am not the one in charge of the direction of my future plans.

During the convocation service last night, President Barnes noted that we are standing on 203 years of history at Princeton Theological Seminary.  The ones who have come before us here have literally paved, and paid the way for us to be here studying today.  While he noted that we are standing on the shoulders of those who have come before us, I reflected that I am here supported and loved by so many brothers and sisters in Christ who have touched my life and my spiritual journey.  I have such gratitude for those who have answered questions, led by example, loved and supported me, and opened doors to opportunities beyond my wildest dreams.  There is nothing that I could have done to deserve such love, so I have come to the conclusion that I am the recipient of God's grace.  The people in my life have been the hands and feet of Christ in my life, and I will be forever grateful.

When Steve and I arrived at our apartment complex last week, we had not been here 10 minutes when our neighbor across the parking lot approached Steve and let him know he had rescheduled an appointment to help us unload our truck.  Our neighbor across the hall, who had brought in a package that had arrived for Steve before we did, also came and helped unload the truck until we were completely done.  Not to mention my long time friend, and college roommate Krista Beth who came from her home 40 minutes away and stayed ALL DAY to help us unpack.  We would realize later in the day that it was the 13th anniversary of the day we met - unpacking and getting settled as freshmen at Ithaca College.  Grace; grace we could not have possibly imagined or deserved.

Steve joked after our first couple of days on campus that it was like being in Canada, only friendlier!  I joked back that they aren't Canadian, just seminarians.  This is the community that we are blessed to be a part of for the next three years.  President Barnes also noted during one of our orientation sessions that there is a reason they don't have an online M.Div program.  It is impossible to experience "in your pajamas in your living room" what we experience living here among others for three years.  Our neighbors and classmates are on this journey with us, and although we come from across the world, and we have different theological viewpoints and backgrounds we are learning to be the community of Christ together, while respecting and celebrating our differences.  

I am humbled and grateful to be here.  I intend to make the most of every moment I have as a student surrounded by this supportive and loving community of Christ.