Posted in worship

Ants on the communion rail!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Ants may be some of God’s smallest creatures, but it doesn’t take many of them to cause a major panic in the house of the Lord, especially when they are crawling around on the communion rail during worship service. I didn’t witness them, but I sure heard about their invasion into sacred space!

OK, I’ll grant that it would break my concentration and meditation to feel insects crawling up my arm as I knelt at the altar. I don’t like gnats flying into my ears or buzzing around my eyes, either. Yes, just a few little bitty guys like that can ruin a whole worship service.

Where in the world did they come from? We saw no obvious line marching in from a crack or a window. Fortunately they weren’t fire ants. But then an astute pest control professional/member noticed a stream of the insects from the Advent wreath stand, which had been brought into the chancel for the first Sunday in Advent. The stand had been stored for a whole year in a rear entryway near an exit door. A perfect place to hide away for a while. Until December, when the ants found themselves just a few meters of drops of wine and crumbs of bread. Of course they’re going to go and see what’s going on out there.

But only for a day. We quickly cleaned out their adopted home, the rail and the chancel. Just like the spider we once found crawling up the trays of wine or the lizard who scampered across the altar, we persuaded them to worship outdoors, where they could be just as close to their Creator.

Posted in Grace

“You’re mic is on!”

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Lee Soo hyun on Unsplash

It’s four minutes before I walk towards the altar, the prelude comes to a close and worship begins. More than a few times, someone has come up to me and said, “Your mic’s on!”

Well, of course it is. I fully trust the person at the sound board to pot me up at the appropriate times in the service. If the whole congregation can hear my small talk with those arriving for worship, those I’ve spotted who are with us for the first time, and those who have last minute questions for me, it’s not my fault!

I usually think, “I hope it wasn’t on when I was just in the bathroom.” Or expressing frustration under my breath about someone or something. Or speaking having a confidential conversation.

Actually, most of the time, it’s not true. My voice tends to carry. That’s a polite way of saying I’m just plain loud. I’ve heard it many times from my wife when guests are sleeping on the other side of the house or my comments are of a personal nature. I don’t even realize how much volume I can generate. It must come from all those years of playing the trumpet and sending air through the horn.

Can you imagine what it would be like if people could hear what you were thinking? So many thoughts resonate in my head that fortunately never make it to my vocal chords. About someone’s appearance, behavior, language, priorities, commitment, faith, choices or lifestyle. If that mic were ever left on I would be in a lot of trouble!

It’s troubling to sit here and write about thoughts I am glad no one knows I have. Obviously I am not proud of them, nor do I share them very often. Such thoughts reveal a level of sinfulness I shudder to admit. My thoughts aren’t always nice, constructive, merciful, forgiving and gracious. They are too often judgmental, condescending, cruel, hateful and evil.

No one knows. Except for God. And when I stop to ponder that, I am ashamed and humbled. But he still sent Jesus to atone for those thoughts. Amazing.

Posted in eyes

The tears no one sees

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Luis Galvez on Unsplash

A church worship service can be an emotional setting. I’ve had dozens of people say to me, “I cried through the whole service.”

Sometimes a song or hymn brings to mind a sad time, like a funeral service for a loved one. Some cry when they feel alone, even though they’re sitting in a room full of people, because one particular person isn’t there anymore. Or may soon not be there anymore. Or a phrase in a reading or sermon touches an especially tender spot in your heart. Some people don’t know why they need to bring tissues to church. The tears just flow.

I always tell folks that it’s OK to cry in church. After all, God created you with the ability to produce tears. And I also assure them that we all cry in church at one time or another. They might not know that because many times, no one sees the tears.

Sometimes the tears are on the inside. They don’t run down our face and drip onto a hymnal or bible. Instead they flow from our minds to our hearts and into our soul. Memories, guilt, fear, the unknown, anger, jealousy and hatred may not make our eyes well up. But we feel powerful emotions within. We weep within. We put on our best Vulcan expression and everyone thinks we’re just fine. But the tears within are very real.

Whether on the outside or the inside, there’s nothing wrong with tears. They make us remember that we’re looking forward to a new place, where God will wipe every tear from our eyes and our souls.

Posted in Ministry, questions

Yes, I have time for a question

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Twenty minutes or so before worship began last week, a good friend of mine asked, “Do you have time for a quick theological question?”

My heart rate increased, adrenaline began pumping as I reveled in that moment. Even in those moments when I should focus on the hour ahead of me, I love a good question about God, faith, Jesus or the church. In fact, when someone asks less specifically, “Can I ask you a question?” I will often reply, “I hope it’s a bible question!”

Many questions aren’t biblical or theological. In fact, they are usually anything but. For example,

  • “Do you know the copier access code?”
  • “Do we have any more garbage bags?”
  • “Whatever happened to __________?” (Fill in anyone’s name.)
  • “Where do you go to get your car fixed?”
  • “Who is that person I saw at church yesterday? He was older, had gray hair, wore glasses…”
  • “Why is it so cold/hot/noisy/dark/bright in here?”
  • “Where can I find a roll of toilet paper?”
  • “Why didn’t I get any offering envelopes?”
  • “When is the dumpster going to get emptied?”
  • “Can I use the fellowship hall for a birthday party in June?”
  • “Who left this food in the refrigerator?”
  • “What happened to the food that was in the refrigerator?”
  • “Why isn’t there anything on that bulletin board?”
  • “When did you get glasses?”
  • “Where are your glasses?”

Do I have time for a theological question? Most certainly, yes!

Posted in memories

Connecticut memories

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The first parish where I served as a pastor was Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Coventry, CT. We lived there for five years, from 1986-1991. The other day I quickly jotted down a few memories that popped into my head.

  • We had two Labrador retrievers, Gabriel (yellow) and Rachel (chocolate), plus two cats, Fred and Ginger. I would hit baseballs into the woods for the dogs to retrieve.
  • I loved cutting and splitting firewood. Great exercise, and we loved the heat from the wood burning stove in the winter.
  • The pews in the church had welded steel frames and wooden planks, crafted by some of the founders of the church. We had kneelers, too, which created quite a sound when they all fell to the floor at the same time for confession.
  • I got my first personal computer in Connecticut. Monochrome display, 5-1/4 inch floppy disk, no internet at that time. I just used it for word processing.
  • We often took the kids to the barns at the University of Connecticut. Most were open to the public, so we walked through rows of cows, pens full of sheep and goats, and fields filled with horses. The pigs were off-limits, though. Too many people tried to take the piglets. If we didn’t want to go to UConn, we just walk down the road to a small farm where horses, goats and chickens would come to greet us at the fence.
  • We lived in the church parsonage which sat on four acres right next to another four acres where the church was located. My two oldest children and I would often walk what we call the “‘benture trail,” along the boundary of our property which ran right up to the woods.
  • The obstetrician who brought our older daughter into the world forgave the part of our bill that insurance wouldn’t cover, in exchange for some “special intentions.” I was grateful, but to tell you the truth, I didn’t even know what that was. (They are intercessory prayers for someone, I think.)
  • The parsonage was a two-story, five bedroom, 2-1/2 bath, 2,600 sq. ft. home with a full basement and garage beneath. We moved in with a baby (Adam was four months old), a bed, a dresser, a crib, a table and a couple of chairs. We never never came close to fully furnishing that house. We did buy some antique oak dressers that we are still using today.
  • In the winter, those who smoked would stand in the narthex to stay warm, flicking ashes into the corner where they thought no one would notice.
  • The church wasn’t that big, averaging about 70 per Sunday in attendance. I still remember a whole bunch of the names: Thurber, Edmonds, Garay, Jeram, Sheehan, Ultzen, Wiebusch, Sans, Dollak, Davis, Burger, Dwyer, Bement, Ausburger, Underwood and Potterton. (That’s amazing!)

Not bad recall for events from over thirty years ago!

Posted in Nature

Wood Stork

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Either I’m becoming more observant, or new birds are suddenly in my field of vision. Today, simply walking Samson, we saw a few of these:

A Wood Stork is the only stork native to North America. They slowly stalk but quickly snap up fish, frogs and whatever else they can find in swamps, ponds and today, roadside ditches.

Birdwatchersdigest.com nominates them for “ugliest bird,” but I think that’s a bit harsh. The eating must have been good today, since this one hardly looked up when I paused to take his (and his friend’s) picture.

Posted in God

Google knows a whole lot about you. So does God.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

I forget where I first saw the headline, “Google knows a whole lot about you,” but it did make me wonder, “How much does Google know about me?”

I’m sure I don’t know everything Google knows about me. But just off the top of my head, I know it knows

  • Where I’ve been and when
  • What I have purchased
  • What I’ve thought about purchasing
  • What I’m thinking about buying
  • Who I’m related to
  • Who I know
  • Who I’ve worked for
  • Who I’ve worked with
  • Who I went to school with
  • What I like to eat and drink
  • Much about my health and health history

And a whole bunch of other information that I have put out there in my blog, sermons, social media posts, product reviews and pictures I’ve taken.

Scary? I don’t know. I don’t even think much about it. Maybe I should. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to it.

Or maybe I’ve long known someone else who knows even more about me. God.

He knew me before I was born. He’s got the map of my DNA – he made it. He knows my thoughts, desires and dreams. He knows my fears and doubts. He knows my feelings and emotions. He knows my coming and going. He knows when I get up and when I go to bed each night.

Not only does he know my past, but he knows my future, too. He knows what my day will be like. He knows how long I’ve got to live. He even knows my cause of death.

The bible calls this being “fully known” by God. There’s a great deal of comfort in that. I don’t have to pretend. I don’t have to tell God what I think he wants to hear. I don’t have to be afraid that he’ll find out what I’ve done. He already knows.

In fact, because God knows me so well, he helps me get to know myself better. The better I get to know him, the more I learn about me.

Posted in writing

New journal day!

Posted on by William Douthwaite
My newest Leuichtturm 1917 notebook

Somewhere in the back of my mind I remember my mom telling me how much she enjoyed opening up and writing in a new notebook, journal or even just a pad of paper. She loved the feel of the untouched pages, the blank sheets and the unlimited possibilities. She must have passed that love down to me. I love new notebook day!

Yesterday was new journal day for me. As I do every three months or so, I started writing on page one of a new Leuchtturm 1917 notebook. This one is dotted. I have used blank and lined journals before, but I find that dotted gives me the most flexibility.

Inside the front cover of my journal

I set up my journal by writing my “mantras” in the front cover. My mantras are little pithy phrases that guide my life. I also record the beginning date and the starting scripture. You see, I record my thoughts here as I read cover-to-cover through the bible. So each volume covers a portion of the word as well as my experiences and thoughts along the way.

I set up the pages from the back with my prayer list. This is where I keep track, so I don’t miss any of the ways God has answered my prayers.

A journal is a place to explore ideas, record my days, track some prayers and remember my blessings. I don’t worry about being legible. After all, I’m the one who reads the daily entries. But this record of my days and interactions, as well as research and ideas, will probably outlive me.

I wonder who else will ever sit down to read through my journals?

Posted in Ministry

Squirrel 1, me 0

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Persistent. Determined. Ingenious. Clever. Acrobatic. These are some but certainly aren’t all the adjectives I could use to describe the latest squirrel to defeat my latest squirrel-proof bird feeder.

He had to scamper up that 1/2″ pole, then latch his back feet onto a non-moving part of the feeder, leaving his front feet free to grab the tasty sunflower seeds. In theory, the outer sleeve of the feeder would slide over the opening, denying him access to the seeds. In practice, though, he had no problem enjoying as many seeds as he wanted.

I haven’t given up yet. The cardinals want me to keep trying. It’s on. Let’s see if there isn’t a way to thwart his (and many friends’) efforts!