Ten-Finger Exercises

Slippery slope and liturgical art

February is on the way out, and if I want to get something submitted this month, I'd better get at it fast. Vivian Gabel-- I think that's who it was-- suggested some contests in By-Line magazine. I haven't ever entered a contest I had to pay to enter. How about you? As I recall, she thought it would help her get something published there, and I guess that is the way they do that. I remember reading in their guidelines that they prefer short pieces to publish. Anyway, they have a contest coming up on character sketches, and that sounds fun. Maybe I could get that done before the month slips away.

I've been churching all weekend: two funerals, two eucharists, a hospital communion, and a choral evensong. That's a bit much, but that's the way it goes.

Our assistant priest, who is interested in liturgical art, has something interesting going on in the knave of the church and the chapel. It's similar to something I did at the hospital years ago. She has a lot of large, smooth river rocks placed around, symbolic of the burdens we carry with us and want to leave at the altar but usually take home with us anyway. A large wooden cross is set up in a side chapel, where there is only one pew and some pillows for kneeling. The instructions were for us to come into the church at any time during Lent (except during a service,) find a rock and name it with whatever burden, sin or stumbling block in our lives we'd like to be rid of, and place it at the foot of the cross.

When I did something similar, I used small stones (our hospital chapel being much smaller,) and asked people to bring in their own rocks to symbolize their hardness of heart, or whatever they wanted changed. They were to put a slip of paper in a box with their prayer on it. When Easter came, we covered the rocks with quilted hearts a nun had made for us, and asked people to take one if they felt their hearts had softened, their burden lightened.

"Hardness of heart" may not reverberate with you, but it did for me. When I walk into a nursing home, for instance, instead of feeling compassion and love for the people there, I feel pity. I distance myself from their situation and want to get out as quickly as I can. I didn't used to feel that way, but have been struggling with it recently. So one of the rocks I'll be toting over there is a prayer for a more loving attitude.