The sun is shining over the harbor of Whitianga as I write this last blog post from New Zealand, though I'm sure I'll write about NZ plenty more. It's Friday, February 24 here and we fly out tomorrow evening from the Auckland airport.
We're here on the North Island, spending these last few days on the quiet and beautiful Coromandel Peninsula, about 2.5 hours outside of Auckland. I feel like perhaps we could have spent more time in New Zealand's biggest city (we'll spend a half day there tomorrow before the flight doing lunch and seeing the museum) but it's nice to be in a small town with plenty of beach and plenty of space. I'm not sure if it's the sabbatical or my introverted husband but I'm craving quiet and small places these days.
Whitianga (the "wh" pronounced "ff") is a small harbor town on the east edge of the peninsula. We got here Wednesday night (Feb 22, Ash Wednesday) after leaving Queenstown in the south island that morning and driving/traveling most of the day.
Prior to that, we spent three nights/four days backpacking the Kepler Track. It rained every day but we were in huts two of the three nights and met the most interesting people. College-aged girls from Holland, a former Israeli soldier, retired couples from New Zealand, fresh-from-high school German guys seeing the world. My favorite was a young man from Germany who camped near us one night. He said this was his first backpacking trip and he came equipped with an actual Coleman stove (plus fuel), cans and cans of food and blue jeans. He said he'd learned a few lessons for next time! The Kiwis we met gave us great advice on the north island and the Israeli taught us a great new card game. Oh, we met some Americans too: from Virgina and South Lake Tahoe.
So the people were great but the scenery was even better. The Kepler track follows a ridge line in the Kepler Mountains (think: the hills are alive...with the sound of music) and we got views of nearby lakes and faraway mountain ranges. We got a lot of rain but the clouds parted enough each day for views. The final two days were mostly hiking through forests along the Wairu River and we saw some beautiful marsh land that was used in the filming of Lord of the Rings (dead marshes scene).
The primary day of alpine scenery was the day we spent on the ridgeline, which happened to be Sunday, Feb. 19. I thought of the folks at Central, as I have every Sunday of the sabbatical. Then I tried to remember what day it was. I remembered suddenly: the Transfiguration. Jesus on the mountain, shining bright. Peter, who is so dumbfounded that he wants to build a permanent shelter. But it wasn't to be, no matter the view from the ridge, Peter was on his way to the plains.
I thought about Peter as the clouds lifted that day and we got the most amazing alpine views. I'd like to stay on this mountain, I thought. I'd like to build a cabin on this ridgeline and see these mountains every day. I'd like to look down at the tiny lake below. I'd like to spend this much time with Erik and laugh together as much every day back home as we have on this trip. But the hike moved on and we descended that day, as did Peter. We hiked down about 2700 feet, quads burning to prove it. We couldn't stay on the mountain. But then I remembered that God goes with us into the plains and valleys. It is an assurance of peace.
As I mentioned, we traveled to the north island on Wednesday, Ash Wednesday. I kept thinking about how it was Ash Wednesday and how I wished to be part of a worshipping community. I wanted to hear someone sing "Ashes" and feel the grit on my forehead as someone said "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Well, it wasn't to be, since we didn't come across anyplace on our drive to the peninsula and it was getting very late anyway by the time we arrived. So I made the cross on my own forehead and I remembered and I practiced gratitude.
We arrived here in Whitianga about 8 pm that night, tired from the windy roads and me a bit carsick. We pulled into the B&B (no reservation but we hadn't needed one yet) and of course it was full. But the proprietor ushered us in and sat us down at a computer to look at other B&Bs and called around and found us an amazing place. He asked what we did and I gave him my standard "I work at a Lutheran church" line. But he pressed and I told him I was clergy. He told me that he was Baptist and that he was a lay preacher and was working on his sermon just then. I told him how I'd really wanted to receive ashes that day; apparently it wasn't a tradition his church kept. Anyway, his grace landed us a room at a little B&B called "Absolute Beachview," and it is.
Our hosts are lovely, the breakfasts are delicious and our place is right on the beach. Our hostess sets out cookies every afternoon and there's a huge, peaceful lounge area to sit and read and watch. It rained much of yesterday but we took a hike to a place called Cathedral Cove on a beach nearby and the view was still good. We also found a small winery yesterday and sipped Pinot Noir while the rain fell.
Today the sun is bright and we did a 4-hour kayak around the bay. We had a picnic around noon with some artisinal local cheeses Erik found at a market here in town. We picked up some extra, for happy hour, which is about to start.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
New Zealand, Week 2 (ish)
We've been here in New Zealand now for almost two weeks but I wanted to write this blog post before we leave for our 4 day/3 night backpack of the Kepler Track. We're staying at a motel in Te Anau tonight, a little town that serves as a gateway for the amazing fjordlands of the southwest South Island.
In the last few days we completed our drive down the West Coast, complete with hikes to the Franz Joseph and Fox Glaciers on the central West Coast. We joked that we have glaciers in Alaska, so why bother to see these, but they were pretty good. It was raining and then pouring when we saw the glaciers and it felt like a summer day in Seward. The gray skies made the blue of the glaciers shine, though.
We drove a long time that day (Tuesday), about 6 hours to get to Queenstown. As I think I mentioned, roads aren't straight here and we joke about how the "freeways" look like small town roads. Everything is two-lane and the fields along the road are dotted with endless sheep and cows. I have yet to see any cross the road, though I keep hoping for such a farmland scene!
Queenstown is a bit like Lake Tahoe, a city around a beautiful alpine lake, ringed with mountains and full of outdoorsy shops. Queenstown is also the adrenaline capital of NZ, I've heard. You can throw yourself out of any number of airplanes or off tall buildings and pay good money for it. We declined; Erik patiently waited for me to do a couple hours of shopping in the town center before we drove on.
We spent Wednesday night through this morning (Friday) in Milford Sound. It's a 120km drive from Te Anau to the Sound, which is actually a glacial-carved fjord surrounded by mountains. We camped for two nights at a little park along the road and spent the days hiking and taking a cruise in Milford Sound.
I expected the fjordlands to remind me of Alaska but I didn't expect them to be so dramatic. As the road nears Milford Sound, the cliffs rise higher and higher. The Milford Sound boasts some of the highest mountains that rise out of a sea, thanks to the glacier's steady work. The views were amazing. As Erik drove, one or both of us kept saying, "wow," or "look" or "amazing." After awhile, it simply overwhelmed me and I couldn't say anything at all. I kept thinking of a T-shirt I saw someone wearing earlier in our trip: "I'd rather be here now."
We hiked like crazy: a 3-hour hike on part of the famous Routeburn Track up to a summit and then a 4.25-hour hike the next day (covering 10 miles; we cruised) on the Hollyford Track to the Hidden Falls. Even then there were still more hikes to do along the Milford Road, but we thought we'd done a good sampling.
We've spent today gearing up for the hike the next four days. Groceries, post office, internet, laundry and such. It was nice to take a leisurely stroll along Lake Te Anau earlier this morning and see the interpretive displays at the DOC (Department of Conservation) visitors' center.
Perhaps this is a common thing to say when visiting New Zealand but I am just so blown away by the scenery here and the kindness of the people we've met. I'm practicing gratitude on a daily basis and so overwhelmed with the beauty of the earth. My spiritual director encouraged me to think of a Bible verse or story that I could carry with me on this trip. I haven't come up with one yet, but maybe it's not to be forced. I just keep feeling awed by creation and thankful for the goodness of people. Many people have been so kind, patient and thoughful at our endless questions, requests and indecisions along the way. A shopkeeper in Queenstown yesterday spent a good 15 minutes helping me decide which woolen vest to buy and a hotel clerk on the West Coast was totally nonplussed when I asked her to ship my sandals to me here that I left under the bed. Gratitude and God-moments, all of it.
In the last few days we completed our drive down the West Coast, complete with hikes to the Franz Joseph and Fox Glaciers on the central West Coast. We joked that we have glaciers in Alaska, so why bother to see these, but they were pretty good. It was raining and then pouring when we saw the glaciers and it felt like a summer day in Seward. The gray skies made the blue of the glaciers shine, though.
We drove a long time that day (Tuesday), about 6 hours to get to Queenstown. As I think I mentioned, roads aren't straight here and we joke about how the "freeways" look like small town roads. Everything is two-lane and the fields along the road are dotted with endless sheep and cows. I have yet to see any cross the road, though I keep hoping for such a farmland scene!
Queenstown is a bit like Lake Tahoe, a city around a beautiful alpine lake, ringed with mountains and full of outdoorsy shops. Queenstown is also the adrenaline capital of NZ, I've heard. You can throw yourself out of any number of airplanes or off tall buildings and pay good money for it. We declined; Erik patiently waited for me to do a couple hours of shopping in the town center before we drove on.
We spent Wednesday night through this morning (Friday) in Milford Sound. It's a 120km drive from Te Anau to the Sound, which is actually a glacial-carved fjord surrounded by mountains. We camped for two nights at a little park along the road and spent the days hiking and taking a cruise in Milford Sound.
I expected the fjordlands to remind me of Alaska but I didn't expect them to be so dramatic. As the road nears Milford Sound, the cliffs rise higher and higher. The Milford Sound boasts some of the highest mountains that rise out of a sea, thanks to the glacier's steady work. The views were amazing. As Erik drove, one or both of us kept saying, "wow," or "look" or "amazing." After awhile, it simply overwhelmed me and I couldn't say anything at all. I kept thinking of a T-shirt I saw someone wearing earlier in our trip: "I'd rather be here now."
We hiked like crazy: a 3-hour hike on part of the famous Routeburn Track up to a summit and then a 4.25-hour hike the next day (covering 10 miles; we cruised) on the Hollyford Track to the Hidden Falls. Even then there were still more hikes to do along the Milford Road, but we thought we'd done a good sampling.
We've spent today gearing up for the hike the next four days. Groceries, post office, internet, laundry and such. It was nice to take a leisurely stroll along Lake Te Anau earlier this morning and see the interpretive displays at the DOC (Department of Conservation) visitors' center.
Perhaps this is a common thing to say when visiting New Zealand but I am just so blown away by the scenery here and the kindness of the people we've met. I'm practicing gratitude on a daily basis and so overwhelmed with the beauty of the earth. My spiritual director encouraged me to think of a Bible verse or story that I could carry with me on this trip. I haven't come up with one yet, but maybe it's not to be forced. I just keep feeling awed by creation and thankful for the goodness of people. Many people have been so kind, patient and thoughful at our endless questions, requests and indecisions along the way. A shopkeeper in Queenstown yesterday spent a good 15 minutes helping me decide which woolen vest to buy and a hotel clerk on the West Coast was totally nonplussed when I asked her to ship my sandals to me here that I left under the bed. Gratitude and God-moments, all of it.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
New Zealand, Week 1
After camping, hiking and kayaking our way through remote corners of New Zealand, I'm finally able to sit down and blog a bit about our adventures. It's been just a little over a week and it seems we've barely scratched the surface of this rich and beautiful land.
We arrived in Nelson, the north part of the South Island. Our flight was delayed leaving San Francisco (three hours on the tarmac), so our total time in the airplane was over 15 hours.
In Nelson, we were picked up by Pastor Chris J, a pastor at a little country church outside Nelson. The Lutheran Church in New Zealand (a branch of the Lutheran Church in Australia) was founded by Germans and doesn't ordain women. I was a bit apologetic in my emails to Chris (would you meet with me? are you offended that I exist?) but he was gracious and kind. He and his wife Haidee took us back to their home for a lamb luncheon (I had salad) that Erik loved.
I'd expected, for some reason, that Chris would be older than me or at least middle aged. Turned out he was in the first year of his first call and was barely older than my little sister. We had much to talk about though, like the challenges of doing ministry in a secular world and the need for boundaries and what it's like to be a young clergy person. We got along so well that he even suggested a pulpit exchange in the future, until he realized that might not go over well with his denomination!
From Nelson we went into the wilderness and spent three days kayaking and camping in Abel Tasman National Park, named after the Dutch explorer who was the first white person to see the islands. Abel Tasman was beautiful and so warm and sunny. We explored bays, beaches and a seal colony, delighting in the moms with their playful pups. We met some New Zealanders from the North Island who gave us plenty of advice about our adventures to come.
After we cleaned up in Nelson after the kayak (and had an amazing dinner at a classy place with local snapper, lamb and pinot noir) we went to the Marlborough Sounds. The roads were so windy as we drove into the sound, which was about as rainy and gorgeous as the Prince William Sound. We hiked a bit and camped in the rain (thank goodness for Erik's secure work on the tent!)
The next day we explored the other thing the Sound is famous for: wine. We drove through a wine country not unlike Northern California and sampled some amazing Sauvignon Blancs and Pinot Noirs. Then it was on to Nelson Lakes, which was a little taste of the fjordlands in the center of the south island, along Lake Rotoiti. We took a 2.5 hour hike the day we arrived at the Nelson Lakes. I really am not exaggerating to say it was one of the most beautiful hikes I've done. Sweeping views of the lake, hills and forests, and well-maintained trails through woods and ridge. It was perfect. We camped again that night, near Lake Rotoiti. Our only complaint was the sandflies, which are starting to dot my feet and legs like so many chicken pox.
Yesterday we left Nelson Lakes and drove to the West Coast, which we're now following South. The drive through the Buller Gorge was lovely and now the views of the coast are a bit like Big Sur along California Highway 1. We stopped here, Punakaiki, where we treated ourselves to a night in a cottage and some fish and chips in a local tavern. Today we're off to see the famous "pancake rocks" which are nearby. Then we keep going south, until we start seeing the glaciers, fjords and mountains that will surely remind us of home.
Truth is, New Zealand so far has reminded us of Hawaii, Alaska and California all thrown together in diverse ecosystems and lands. Yes, we've seen hundreds of sheep, but also beef cattle, dairy cows and lots of interesting birds. There's so much here to explore and it feels like three weeks is just a taste.
We arrived in Nelson, the north part of the South Island. Our flight was delayed leaving San Francisco (three hours on the tarmac), so our total time in the airplane was over 15 hours.
In Nelson, we were picked up by Pastor Chris J, a pastor at a little country church outside Nelson. The Lutheran Church in New Zealand (a branch of the Lutheran Church in Australia) was founded by Germans and doesn't ordain women. I was a bit apologetic in my emails to Chris (would you meet with me? are you offended that I exist?) but he was gracious and kind. He and his wife Haidee took us back to their home for a lamb luncheon (I had salad) that Erik loved.
I'd expected, for some reason, that Chris would be older than me or at least middle aged. Turned out he was in the first year of his first call and was barely older than my little sister. We had much to talk about though, like the challenges of doing ministry in a secular world and the need for boundaries and what it's like to be a young clergy person. We got along so well that he even suggested a pulpit exchange in the future, until he realized that might not go over well with his denomination!
From Nelson we went into the wilderness and spent three days kayaking and camping in Abel Tasman National Park, named after the Dutch explorer who was the first white person to see the islands. Abel Tasman was beautiful and so warm and sunny. We explored bays, beaches and a seal colony, delighting in the moms with their playful pups. We met some New Zealanders from the North Island who gave us plenty of advice about our adventures to come.
After we cleaned up in Nelson after the kayak (and had an amazing dinner at a classy place with local snapper, lamb and pinot noir) we went to the Marlborough Sounds. The roads were so windy as we drove into the sound, which was about as rainy and gorgeous as the Prince William Sound. We hiked a bit and camped in the rain (thank goodness for Erik's secure work on the tent!)
The next day we explored the other thing the Sound is famous for: wine. We drove through a wine country not unlike Northern California and sampled some amazing Sauvignon Blancs and Pinot Noirs. Then it was on to Nelson Lakes, which was a little taste of the fjordlands in the center of the south island, along Lake Rotoiti. We took a 2.5 hour hike the day we arrived at the Nelson Lakes. I really am not exaggerating to say it was one of the most beautiful hikes I've done. Sweeping views of the lake, hills and forests, and well-maintained trails through woods and ridge. It was perfect. We camped again that night, near Lake Rotoiti. Our only complaint was the sandflies, which are starting to dot my feet and legs like so many chicken pox.
Yesterday we left Nelson Lakes and drove to the West Coast, which we're now following South. The drive through the Buller Gorge was lovely and now the views of the coast are a bit like Big Sur along California Highway 1. We stopped here, Punakaiki, where we treated ourselves to a night in a cottage and some fish and chips in a local tavern. Today we're off to see the famous "pancake rocks" which are nearby. Then we keep going south, until we start seeing the glaciers, fjords and mountains that will surely remind us of home.
Truth is, New Zealand so far has reminded us of Hawaii, Alaska and California all thrown together in diverse ecosystems and lands. Yes, we've seen hundreds of sheep, but also beef cattle, dairy cows and lots of interesting birds. There's so much here to explore and it feels like three weeks is just a taste.
Saturday, February 04, 2012
It's like Alaska, with sheep
Some yoga friends went to New Zealand recently and the south island is like Alaska, with sheep. We'll see. We leave early Saturday (Feb. 4) for New Zealand. I'm only bringing the ipod for internet access and we'll be in a tent or a trail most of the time. So, I'll post when I can.
One small (but not really) note: I was thinking the other day of all the people who have told me that they are praying for me on sabbatical. And you know what? I can feel it. I can feel the prayers and love and support. It's an energy, a presence, a sense of the goodness of God shared across the space.
Over the years as a pastor, people have told me they can feel the prayers from our congregation. Usually it was during a time of grief, illness or loss. I always thought it was nice but I never experienced it myself.
So, I can feel your prayers. And I notice I feel connected in a new way to all of you who have told me you feel the prayers of your brothers and sisters in Christ. Amen!
One small (but not really) note: I was thinking the other day of all the people who have told me that they are praying for me on sabbatical. And you know what? I can feel it. I can feel the prayers and love and support. It's an energy, a presence, a sense of the goodness of God shared across the space.
Over the years as a pastor, people have told me they can feel the prayers from our congregation. Usually it was during a time of grief, illness or loss. I always thought it was nice but I never experienced it myself.
So, I can feel your prayers. And I notice I feel connected in a new way to all of you who have told me you feel the prayers of your brothers and sisters in Christ. Amen!
Friday, February 03, 2012
When the Preacher is the Sermon
That was the theme of the Byberg preaching conference I attended this past week: When the Preacher is the Sermon. Craig Satterlee, pastor and professor at the LSTC (Lutheran seminary in Chicago) was the presenter.
As I mentioned in the last post, I preached at worship. Craig evaluated me and it was fine.
But he also gave three lectures and I wanted to share a few insights that I learned.
First of all, OF COURSE the preacher is the sermon. As much as we preachers may try to get ourselves out of the way, people still see our faces and hear our voices in the pulpit. We are the sermon, in a way, no matter how much we try not to be. Our own agendas, experiences and revelations are still there.
Craig used the Corinthians image of treasures in clay jars. Since the preacher is the sermon, how do we (preachers) best use the clay jars of ourselves to shine a light on Jesus? Craig didn't give us any "rules" on preaching (he said absolutes are few) but rather gave some guidelines and talked about some of the tensions.
Here are some questions he asked that I appreciated. If there are lay folks reading this blog, you might think of how you wish your pastor might answer.
* Do you understand yourself as an office-holder or a charismatic leader?
* Are you a proclaimer of the Gospel or a protector of the institutional church?
* What is your attitude toward preaching? What is your attitude toward your hearers?
* What are your assumptions (social, economical, political) and how does this impact your preaching?
* Where are you on the scale of doubter and believer?
* How much priority do you place on preaching and preparation? Do you expect God to show up when preparing for a sermon?
These were all comments made in the first presentation. I'm slowly savoring them still and thinking about my own identity, internal life and habits around preaching. One of my favorite Craig quotes: "Always cultivate ways to place yourself in God's hands. So that the thing people notice most about us is that we love God."
During another session, Craig commented that preachers need to know their hearers in order to preach well. He said visitation is the key to preaching, which was interesting, because I just read that in Eugene Peterson's memoir that I'm working on (The Pastor). Perhaps God is speaking to me?
Craig also talked about the hearers of sermons (okay lay folks, listen up). He said that hearers want to hear who God is and what God is doing. Only then can a preacher tell the hearer what to do. Lay folks, do you agree?
He said preachers need to figure out what questions the hearers are asking. Agree?
Finally, the session closed with a number of very practical suggestions for ministry, pastoral care and children's sermons. I'm going to try to live a few of those out with the folks at Central when I return. Here's one idea that I'd like to see if folks like. Craig suggested doing an adult ed session where the pastor preaches and the lay folks have a chance to offer feedback. Not just on performance but on the gospel, what they learned, what they saw in the text, and so forth. Part of the "teaching" would be training folks on how to listen to a sermon and sharing in pastor-congregation dialogue about it. Hey, the Confirmation kids take sermon notes, why not include adults too?
As I mentioned in the last post, I preached at worship. Craig evaluated me and it was fine.
But he also gave three lectures and I wanted to share a few insights that I learned.
First of all, OF COURSE the preacher is the sermon. As much as we preachers may try to get ourselves out of the way, people still see our faces and hear our voices in the pulpit. We are the sermon, in a way, no matter how much we try not to be. Our own agendas, experiences and revelations are still there.
Craig used the Corinthians image of treasures in clay jars. Since the preacher is the sermon, how do we (preachers) best use the clay jars of ourselves to shine a light on Jesus? Craig didn't give us any "rules" on preaching (he said absolutes are few) but rather gave some guidelines and talked about some of the tensions.
Here are some questions he asked that I appreciated. If there are lay folks reading this blog, you might think of how you wish your pastor might answer.
* Do you understand yourself as an office-holder or a charismatic leader?
* Are you a proclaimer of the Gospel or a protector of the institutional church?
* What is your attitude toward preaching? What is your attitude toward your hearers?
* What are your assumptions (social, economical, political) and how does this impact your preaching?
* Where are you on the scale of doubter and believer?
* How much priority do you place on preaching and preparation? Do you expect God to show up when preparing for a sermon?
These were all comments made in the first presentation. I'm slowly savoring them still and thinking about my own identity, internal life and habits around preaching. One of my favorite Craig quotes: "Always cultivate ways to place yourself in God's hands. So that the thing people notice most about us is that we love God."
During another session, Craig commented that preachers need to know their hearers in order to preach well. He said visitation is the key to preaching, which was interesting, because I just read that in Eugene Peterson's memoir that I'm working on (The Pastor). Perhaps God is speaking to me?
Craig also talked about the hearers of sermons (okay lay folks, listen up). He said that hearers want to hear who God is and what God is doing. Only then can a preacher tell the hearer what to do. Lay folks, do you agree?
He said preachers need to figure out what questions the hearers are asking. Agree?
Finally, the session closed with a number of very practical suggestions for ministry, pastoral care and children's sermons. I'm going to try to live a few of those out with the folks at Central when I return. Here's one idea that I'd like to see if folks like. Craig suggested doing an adult ed session where the pastor preaches and the lay folks have a chance to offer feedback. Not just on performance but on the gospel, what they learned, what they saw in the text, and so forth. Part of the "teaching" would be training folks on how to listen to a sermon and sharing in pastor-congregation dialogue about it. Hey, the Confirmation kids take sermon notes, why not include adults too?
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