Some other fresh expressions of church get a lot of use out of projectors, sometimes for better and sometimes for worse.  In my experience, projections are best when they are a substitute for stained glass – they enhance the mystical ambiance of a room, they provide a visual backdrop for sacred activity, and they convey emotional information to the gathered community.

Projectors are at their worst, however, when they’re used as a substitute for bulletins – we’ve all seen lyrics and liturgy projected on a screen against stock photos of pristine mountain landscapes, and we all know it sucks.  I’m not a big fan of bulletins, in general, but they are very good at what they do – much better than PowerPoint, in fact.

I got to thinking about this due to a short little pamphlet by Seth Godin on really bad PowerPoint and how to avoid it.  Maybe I’ll set myself a goal of doing a ritual that really makes creative use of space and ambiance, and which uses projection in non-obvious ways…

I found it surprisingly beautiful and for more interesting than what I’m used to seeing in Sunday School curricula. Way to go, Lutherans.

Read it online with illustrations by Mike Jackson

Illustrations originally presented as slides
projected during a live reading
at Easter at Avalon
April 8, 2007

There was not long ago or far away
A town where children played and sang all day
And once their folks had tucked them in at night
The kids hid under covers in their fright
Except one little lady, strong and feral
A wild, precocious child by name of Carol
Who’d lie in silence, with her eyes tight closed
And wait till all the town serenely dozed

Then up she’d jump and loudly she’d declare
“It takes more than the dark to get me scared!”
Outside her window, an old Oak-tree grew
Perhaps this tree’s who she was speaking to
Regardless, she continued “Oh well sure
I’m frightened when the morning traffic roars
The hairs on my young neck do stand on ender
When mom throws fresh tomatoes in the blender
And last week on a class trip to the zoo
The tongue of a giraffe, it scared me too
There’s causes for concern both far and near
But one thing that I’ll never, ever fear…”

“Is England! Yeah, they once were some great power
But now are ‘bout as fearful as a flower
Their royal navy bullied the whole world
Now they can’t frighten this six year old girl!
I fear the toxic waste dumped in the sea
I fear the slash and burn of every tree
I fear the monsters underneath my bed
I fear the spirits mumbling in my head
I fear the pit-bull readying to pounce
But I do not fear England – not one ounce”

And who’d have thought these words from little Carol
Would prove to be old England’s greatest Peril?
To bring long dead King Arthur back to sense
As sworn to rise again in her defense
He looked around, asked “What’s the matter, son?
That I’m so summoned back from Avalon?
Where blossoms bloom and apples sweetly grow
And women are all true, unlike that—” “Whoa!”
Young Carol stopped him speaking “quiet please!
If Mom and Dad hear, they’ll call the police!
And just in case your vision’s gone all shady –
I’m no-one’s son, ‘cause I’m a little lady.”

“But tell me, girl, have Saxons stormed my lands?
And smudged the Grail with their unwash-ed hands?
I’ll swing Excalibur to smash their ranks
I’ll rend their necks, their elbows and their shanks.
But lo, I see no horror in your eyes”
“No, I don’t fear you prehistoric guys.”
She answered “Maybe once you fought so greatly
But tell me, Arthur, what have you done lately?”
So Arthur pondered this and said at last
“You’re right. All my great deeds are in the past.”

Just then the window opened and they stared
The oak was gone – there stood a lady fair!
And Carol asked “Are you his faithful bride?”
“No, that’s my sister Morgan,” Arthur sighed.
“Morgana, please,” the lady said “It’s true
I am his sister, and have powers too
I may not be a mighty patriarch
With lordly conquest legends to impart
But no less than this king’s great deeds in worth
For mine, you see, are powers of the earth
Each blade of grass that reaches for the sun
Each river that leaves flowers where it runs
All animals and insects on parade
Are part of this same earth from which they’re made
Though men don’t praise my glory by the sword
When men are gone, the Earth will still endure.”

“That’s cool!” said Carol “Why’ve I never heard?”
“We girls don’t get the credit we deserve.”
“Well thank you, Morgan, but that does not help,”
King Arthur sighed “I need to scare this whelp.”
But Carol answered “put away your sword
I understand, this world needs mighty lords
To be inspired with righteousness and truth
But if the planet’s ruined Рwhat’s the use?
Perhaps combined, the two of you could grant
Some balance for mankind upon the planet.
Your power would not need to come from fear
But rather from the songs of life you’d hear.”

Young Carol woke and looked around her room
Saw her two guests had vanished with the moon
But through the window, Carol smiled to see
the sun arose and kissed the old oak tree

Practically speaking, I love how appropriate it is to the season of the year. A festival of light and dark in a time of death and expectation. A pregnant time of awaiting the birth and coming of Christ as the days dwindle and another year draws to an end.

What do we know of the baby-boy Jesus, the “reason for the season”? That he was humbly born in occupied Israel two thousand years ago. That he is with us still today and that each year we yearn anew for his return and reign of love and peace.

O come, thou Dayspring from on high, and cheers us by they drawing nigh; disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadow put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!

This is also a time of going out into the world, of reaching out to loved ones and going visiting! I have spoken to family members this week on the phone, visited sick friends, and had my house church community over for dinner.

This week’s Transmission ritual that involved lots of arts and crafts. I’ve included two of our Advent calendars here. Other people made wreaths of fresh cut branches and crocheted string, chain-link calendars, and other inspired works with their hands.

Best of all, we gathered once again into a community, as we do week after week, year after year, believing that when two or three of us gather in your name, you are there. Jesus, our Christ, we are glad to travel with you through the year and to prepare for your return.

Rev. Ike’s Words of Wisdom, originally uploaded by Awreye.

“It’s nice to be important, but more important to be nice.” – Rev. Ike

This was one of the quotes in the foyer of the United Palace Theater ,where more than one hundred New York City school kids danced tonight to the Igor Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring.”

The Rev. Ike restored the art-deco ‚ÄúWonder Theater‚Äù, where tonight’s great gathering happened, and uses it as the ‚Äúcathedral‚Äù for his Christ United Church. But tonight, the palace was the scene of ‚ÄúBerlin in Lights,‚Äù and, as Sir Clive Gillinson said, these kids were dancing with the best ‚Äúpit bands‚Äù possible, the Berliner Philharmoniker.

Stravinsky’s revolutionary orchestral composition, written between 1911 and 1913, was vibrant, alive, and masterfully played. The energy on the stage was electric. The kids captured my full attention and heart in the first moments of their dance.

If you are free tomorrow at 3pm, spend the $15 and travel up to Broadway and 175th Street.

Right in the heart of Washington Heights, there’s music and magic to be seen and heard.

www.carnegiehall.org/berlininlights/ros

Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth – Tapesetry, originally uploaded by Edith OSB.

It’s the middle of August, so we’re keeping it low-key and simple. Come join us on the funky benches behind Grant’s Tomb for a bag dinner picnic and Bible Study.

Since August 15th just happens to be the Feast of Saint Mary, Mother of Jesus for Anglicans and Lutherans, the Assumption for Roman Catholics, and the Dormition of the Theotokos for the Eastern Orthodox, so we’ll be celebrating Jesus’ Ma Protestant-style, with a Bible Study! (No previous knowledge about Madonna necessary!)

About ‘African Bible Study’

Luke 1:39-56 – King James Version – The Message – NIV

GRANT’S TOMB is at 122nd and Riverside Drive. The 1 train stops at 116th on Broadway. Walk 6 blocks north, and 2 blocks west. Call 646 245-7346 if you can’t find us.

FOOD To keep this mid-August meeting simple, we’re asking people to bring food for themselves, plus a little extra to share (e.g. some chips, cookies, drinks, salad, small dish, an extra sandwich). Hopefully, there will be enough extra for those of you who don’t have time or extra cash to pick something up.

If you can, please bring a MARY piece to share –
A cappella or acoustic versions of the Magnificat welcome!
A visual representation of Mary (e.g. image, statue, jewelry) for “show & tell”
If you speak another language, bring a translation of Luke 1:39-56 to read to the group

Butterfly Feet, originally uploaded by estelucy.

To the Foot from its Child
by Pablo Neruda; translated by Alastair Reid

The child’s foot is not yet aware it’s a foot,
and would like to be a butterfly or an apple.

But in time, stones and bits of glass,
streets, ladders,
and the paths in the rough earth
go on teaching the foot that it cannot fly,
cannot be a fruit bulging on the branch.
Then, the child’s foot
is defeated, falls
in the battle,
is a prisoner
condemned to live in a shoe.

Bit by bit, in that dark,
it grows to know the world in its own way,
out of touch with its fellow, enclosed,
feeling out life like a blind man.

These soft nails
of quartz, bunched together,
grow hard, and change themselves
into opaque substance, hard as horn,
and the tiny, petalled toes of the child
grow bunched and out of trim,
take on the form of eyeless reptiles
with triangular heads, like worms.
Later, they grow calloused
and are covered
with the faint volcanoes of death,
a coarsening hard to accept.

But this blind thing walks
without respite, never stopping
for hour after hour,
the one foot, the other,
now the man’s,
now the woman’s,
up above,
down below,
through fields, mines,
markets and ministries,
backwards,
far afield, inward,
forward,
this foot toils in its shoe,
scarcely taking time
to bare itself in love or sleep;
it walks, they walk,
until the whole man chooses to stop.

And then it descended
underground, unaware,
for there, everything, everything was dark.
It never knew it had ceased to be a foot
or if they were burying it so that it could fly
or so that it could become
an apple.

* One of my favorite poems in high school, from a volume I had (with Spanish on one side and English on the other) called A New Decade (Poems 1958-1967)

El pie desde su ni?±o
by Pablo Neruda

El pie del ni?±o a??n no sabe que es pie,
y quiere ser mariposa o manzana.

Pero luego los vidrios y las piedras,
las calles, las escaleras,
y los caminos de la tierra dura
van ense?±ando al pie que no puede volar,
que no puede ser fruto redondo en una rama.
El pie del ni?±o entonces
fue derrotado, cay?? en la batalla,
fue prisionero, condenado a vivir en un zapato.
Poco a poco sin luz fue conociendo el mundo
a su manera,
sin conocer el otro pie, encerrado,
explorando la vida como un ciego.
Aquellas suaves u?±as de cuarzo, de racimo,
se endurecieron, se mudaron
en opaca sustancia, en cuerno duro,
y los peque?±os p?©talos del ni?±o
se aplastaron, se desequilibraron,
tomaron formas de reptil sin ojos,
cabezas triangulares de gusano.
Y luego encallecieron, se cubrieron
con m??nimos volcanes de la muerte,
inaceptables endurecimientos.

Pero este ciego anduvo sin tregua, sin parar
hora tras hora, el pie y el otro pie,
ahora de hombre o de mujer,
arriba, abajo, por los campos, las minas,
los almacenes y los ministerios,
atr?°s, afuera, adentro, adelante,
este pie trabaj?? con su zapato,
apenas tuvo tiempo de estar desnudo
en el amor o el sue?±o, camin??,
caminaron hasta que el hombre entero se detuvo.
Y entonces a la tierra baj?? y no supo nada,
porque all?? todo y todo estaba oscuro,
no supo que hab??a dejado de ser pie,
si lo enterraban para que volara
o para que pudiera ser manzana.

new membership, originally uploaded by Princess Valium.

If a ritual is performed more than once, it becomes “official,” or there is a greater sense of permanency, just as the more stitches you use to fasten a button to a shirt, the more tightly it will stay attached.

Super Hero Sewing Circle blog

May we, a little band of love,
We sinners, saved by grace,
From glory unto glory changed,
Behold thee face to face.

from Hymns for the Circle #12 , collected writings that came out of a sewing circle

Her project in the hotel lobby consists of the screening of two video’s and a ‘sewing circle’. The public will be invited to join the making of semi high fashion items for which all materials will be provided. The sewing circle blurs the boundary between public and private space. Historically a very private, exclusively female ritual, the sewing circle as ‘performance’ in a public space addresses an entirely new set of questions and interpersonal connections. Tracey Prehay thus contributes to a complex debate on cultural encounters, the market place and the notion of mimicry.

Dutch Art Institute (DAI) Senior Year Project

Come to a Transmission Stitch Circle!

Bring yourself and something that needs mending, sewing, knitting, eating or, drinking.

We’ll be hanging out and practicing the slow art of conversation…

Topics for the evening are Pride and Prejudice

last week, for the 4th of July, we discussed Patriotism and Pacifism – so I thought this week we’d continue with the double-Ps and take inspiration from Jane Austen – herself a priest’s kid

Snacks and drinks welcome!

July 18th at 7pm

rsvp epiphany.ny@gmail.com for directions

stitching assistance will be available

Sewing Circle, originally uploaded by stagewhisper.

WED, June 6th

John, who is planning the ritual says, “At the half-way point of 2007, this Wednesday’s ritual will involve resolutions – whether adjusting the ones we made on New Year’s Eve (pesky reality, always getting in the way of our best intentions!) or making new ones. We’ll also be contemplating affiliations with some comical stories about over-zealous monks, and an original song by Everett & Snodgrass celebrating Saint Francis’ ‘Canticle to Brother Sun and Sister Moon.’”

We’ll be back at Bowie’s place after a long hiatus (please email if you need directions). There will be yummy food and some celebration for John (5/28), Isaac (6/4), and Bowie’s (6/6) birthdays. Please let us know if you are a gemini too!

Plus, Ian Mobsby, who hosted Bowie and Isaac at Greenbelt last year, will be coming from the airport to join us on Wednesday night Рso get ready for a double-header because the next night…

THUR, June 7th

Hear an amazing and long-time Emerging leader in the UK, Ian Mobsby, talk about “Trinitarian Mysticism and Mission” at Trinity Wall Street. Just how can Rublev’s Icon and a Trinitarian ecclesiology enable us to be emerging, experimental, and do mission?

Ian is a founding member of Moot, an emerging church community in London, UK and has been doing emerging church stuff in the UK for the last 14 years, is sweet, and totally rad. Also, here’s an interview between Johnny Baker and Ian about his new book.

Refreshments and fellowship begin at 6:30 pm; the workshop begins at 7 pm – FREE – To sign up, please email us, Ali Lutz at alutz@trinitywallstreet.org or call 212-602-0800.

Flickr Photo of Skellig Michael, originally uploaded by Mixmaster.