This morning, I had a worship planning meeting. Our theme was “centrepoint” – which was born of a brainstorming session several months ago. I was a little worried about how the discussion would go because I couldn’t remember why we’d chosen this theme. I wondered if anyone else could. On my way out the door, I shoved a few round things in my bag – things that I could put in the middle of the table as a centrepiece. Some round cookie cutters, some large marbles that Blue had picked up at a jumble sale on the weekend. I had an apple in there, too, but I was planning to eat that on my walk to church.
The morning was sunny and I had my camera with me. I was planning to take some photos after the meeting to put up on the church website. But as I was walking, I found myself thinking through the theme and I started snapping photos of things that connected. A dandelion opening from the centre. An interesting circular knot on a tree. A bicycle wheel. Two signs for the city centre, pointing in different directions. When I got to the church, I loaded the photos onto my computer and set up a little slide show that could run as the volunteers gathered. I thought maybe the images would inspire something. But no. No one had anything to say about any of the images.
I took the other round things out of my tote bag. I liked how the glass and the stainless steel looked together. Sunshine came in through the window and made them shine on the meeting table. As we talked together, people picked up the cookie cutters and fiddled with them. They played with the marbles, rolling them in circles inside the rings. All of which seemed to spark a good discussion about how to stay centred. A good thing to talk about when planning worship.
Our plans are still a little unsettled. As my mother would say, there are corners that need knocking off. But we found a way in and I think that we’ll still stick with our theme this month.
By the afternoon, the sunshine was gone and the weather had turned. Blue gets out of school half an hour before Beangirl. It’s usually a time for snacks and stories. Sometimes a little homework gets done. Or a colossal game of tag. There are garden plots at the school, too, and last week Blue and I spent some time planting cabbages and nasturtiums. But when the weather turns, there isn’t a lot of shelter and half an hour seems like a very long time. We decided this afternoon to head to the grocery shop across the park. We’d get wet anyway. At least we could stock up on vegetables at the same time.
We each had an umbrella and I wore Plum in the sling on my front, trying to keep his little hands tucked in so that they would not get cold and wet. Halfway across the park, Blue wanted to stop. He had a story to tell me, and it was hard to talk together when we were underneath two different umbrellas. So we stopped. In the middle of the park in the middle of the rain. He told me a story about how last fall when Granny and Grandpa were visiting he had deliberately not eaten all his food one lunchtime so that he could sit on a bench in this park after school and eat it next to his Grandpa. Then he told me he really, really wanted Granny and Grandpa to come for supper. Please? I started to explain about airplanes and time-difference and distance and stopped. The rain was loud on our umbrellas and my answer wasn’t going to satisfy him anyway.
I asked him what we’d eat together if they could come.
“Pudding.”
What kind of pudding?
“Apple pie.”
Perfect.
I can’t magic instant plane tickets, but I can make an apple pie. We can buy six apples and slice them. We can make pastry and sprinkle in the sugar. We can add raisins and cinnamon and all the things we like to eat together. We can share this sweetness. And maybe we can find a centre in all things – a pause in the centre of the rainy park, a marble in the centre of a ring, a still point in the turning world.
“Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only dance.”
T. S. Eliot, Burnt Norton
