The mind games of running...and life.

I really have nothing that I should write about. Or, perhaps I should say that nothing I have to write about is of much interest, even to me, but here's a babbly update anyway.

Things have been rather wild in a not-very-exciting way lately. Mostly just a lot of things happening that could have more pleasantly not happened at all. Like, my hotmail account being hacked the other night and sending many of you all kinds of crap mail. Hotmail picked up on the event and locked the account...and since I was so good at not keeping my information UTD, my backup email address that would get me back into my own account has been gone for at least 3 years. So, stolensunshine16@hotmail.com is dead, likely never to be resurrected, as are the many special personal emails I have collected over the 13-years since the birth of the account. Wow, that means I've had Shiney for 13 years. The best pony a 13-year-old girl could ever wish for!

As I went about checking to see if anything else was out of order, changing passwords, etc, I managed to do a whole lot more damage myself. I lost about half my pictures, some of which I have on CDs back home and some of which I can pull back off Facebook, but some of which are gone forever. Go me.

One last little annoyance with that is that when I tried to skype with Mom today, the microphone was disconnected from skype and it wasn't until we had given up and Mom headed off to work that I figured out what was going on and got it fixed. Hopefully all is relatively in order now, though perhaps little things will continue to show up as time goes on.

New topic: running. Distance running.

I was thinking the other day that, YES, I really am beating the mind game of running again. But that was 2 days ago and I haven't run since. When I had the brilliant idea of signing up for a half marathon in München, the goal was motivation to run, a race to hold me accountable (especially since my riding has come to a halt, and a not very square one). It's not working so well. Now, not even the race is motivating me, though I keep sight of the shirt and finisher's medal. It helps a bit. I'm about 6 weeks out, averaging 3 runs/week, wearing blisters and blood, side aches, still struggling to make my lungs work right after being sick, and just not at all excited about the idea. I'd rather curl up with a blanket and a book. My run on Wednesday was the first time I came back feeling better than when I started. That's how EVERY run is supposed to go.

Of course I have to analyze why the mind games of distance running are much tougher for me to win this time around. It will be my third half-marathon but the conditioning is so much tougher when one begins training with no foundation to build on. My other two halves have come at the end of a summer of hard riding and farm work...a base from which further conditioning comes fairly easy. Don't have that this time.

So, looking toward the coming new adventures, I'm hoping to take one of my ponies out west with me. I'd like a year of pressureless riding... riding trails, hacking, just putting miles on my "younger" mare, Zoe, or enjoying the time and partnership with my Shiney Dimes. There are a couple major roadblocks between that dream and reality... like finding a decent barn to board at that is safe and affordable. The other problem is transportation from WI to OR. We'll see what happens. I welcome any ideas or connections!

Back to my blanket and book...
Pax.

Neuendettelsau Comes to Life!

May Day in Germany is a BIG DEAL. As in, there are lots and lots of celebrations and no classes! The day was beautiful and Neuendettelsau was absolutely buzzing. I have never seen so many people and commotion around the town. Carnival rides, live music, several Flöhmarkte (flea markets) some with books, some with junk, some more Basar-like. I also had the privilege of visitors from Wartburg College, Dr. Kleinhans, Dan and Maren, as they passed through on their way for May Term internships in Eisenach. The 4 of us explored all the goings-ons with great fun and amusement.

We happened to be in the right place at the right time when Dr. Kleinhans ran into an acquaintance at the library book sale. He took us to the basement of the library and showed us through the archives of Neuendettelsau. Pretty awesome...journals of Wilhelm Löhe himself and all kinds of cool stuff.

The rest of the group decided to head toward the Hostienbereitung (Communion Wafer workshop) to watch the demonstrations and I decided I would go back to my room and take a nap. Only on the way I made a new friend, Schwester Hannelore. As I greeted her on the sidewalk she started talking away. We walked a ways together (in the opposite direction of school) before she said, "Do you like coffee?" So we wound up at the coffee shop for an hour or so. Schwester Hannelore and I now meet Wednesday afternoons for a walk, coffee, some German lessons and sometimes supper in her little Bezzelheim apartment. A blessing for the both of us. The wondrous things that come about from a simple greeting on the sidewalk.

May Day came to a close with the singing (kind of) of "Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht!" (Silent Night) outside Dr. Kleinhan's door. Attempt to embarrass professor: Failed.

Pax.

Easter Travels Part II

Ok, so I've lost my motivation and discipline to blog regularly. I figured that would happen sooner or later, just didn't know when. But, I'm gonna try to keep going.

Staubbach Falls in Lauterbrunnen Valley

6-7. April
Our first full day in Switzerland was sunny and gorgeous. We decided that with the risk of continued wet weather, Lauterbrunnen Valley was our first destination.  As we drove the valley, the mountains became rockier, taller, more pronounced.  Soon a waterfall appeared here and there, looking like nothing but a trickle against the massive cliffs.  We parked Sparky and continued on foot down the tiny road leading through the fields and homes, down the middle of the valley with magnificent rocks, mountains, and waterfalls on either side of us.  We also spent a fair amount of time (in the rain) that afternoon and the following day exploring the city of Interlaken.  My dream upon returning to Interlaken was to go paragliding in the Swiss Alps, landing on the green in central Interlaken. Unfortunately, it rained. And rained. And rained. Maybe next time.

8. April
Easter Sunday.  Still precipitating, only this time it turned white. We walked in the snow to the edge of Interlaken where we found the little Reformed church. The rhythm of the service was very similar to the rhythm of a traditional service in the ELCA. The biggest difference for me (without full understanding of the language) was the Eucharist. Only once did I hear "The body of Christ given for you" and "The blood of Christ shed for you". It was said once for everyone but not to the face of each individual. That bothered me. The other thing that bothered me was that there was little indication that it was Easter. The preacher mentioned Easter a couple times in the sermon, but never did we say, "Christ is Risen, Alleluia!" There was no atmosphere of celebration. No masses of flowers, as I am used to on Easter morning.


After the service we headed off, in the snow, toward Schaan, Liechtenstein. I panicked and made Dad drive through the mountains, the snow-covered switch-back roads on which no one else seemed to think going slower was necessary. Once we found our hostel (a rather pukey shade of pink), we had 2 hours before we could check in, so we walked. And we walked. And we walked. And we were frozen and the only thing we found open on Easter Sunday (kind of cool, if you ask me, even if inconvenient for us at the moment) in two hours of walking was a tiny grocery store. Finally, we checked in and settled for the night next to a room full of dudes singing "Somebody that I Used to Know" at the top of their lungs.


9. April
Assuming nothing was going to be open on Easter Monday, we planned nothing but to hike in the mountains. After a long trip up and down and back up the mountain again (thanks to the gas gauge jumping majorly and freaking us out), we found the ski resort in Malbun.  Next we found that hiking there was beyond our abilities! Deep snow, thin air, and constant steep incline brought our hike to a halt about half a mile from the start. Yet, it was spectacular and sunny. I was too slow with the camera when Mom's feet decided she needed to make a snow angel, and we occasionally got too near the edge of the path where we would sink past our knees in snow instead of just to our ankles. One of the coolest parts of this little hike was the St Bernhard chapel 200 meters up the path.

By the time we reached the Neuschwanstein castle, I was tired and cranky and just wanted to get to München for the night. Miss Garmin took us well out of our way before we arrived at the castle where we discovered that the trail to the bridge (the part we wanted to see most of all) was blocked off by scaffolding on the castle. Oh piffle. I told Mom that I'd go anyway if she wanted to, but she had better sense than I did and we didn't go. We only got pictures from a distance.

 

The bridge we couldn't get to.

The Wombat City Hostel in München was another whole adventure. It was by far the coolest hostel I've ever stayed in, but it was a bit much for my parents. The three of us were in a mixed 6-bed room and the other three beds were occupied by 3 very nice but quite rowdy (and drunk by the end of the night) young men who I'm guessing were Australian.


10. April
It was all I could do in the morning not to turn all the lights on and say loudly, "Ok sexy boys, it's time to get up and have breakfast!" Really, it was an awesome hostel though. There was a huge bar (that we only went to to get our free OJs) and a room full of brightly colored cushy chairs and hammocks strung between trees. And, the breakfast was amazing.

We left the Wombat before much of anyone else was awake and headed to Dachau where we spent the better part of the day walking the grounds of Germany's first concentration camp. What shocked me most about this one was how several of the camp's buildings are still used for various things today. I guess it makes sense, the buildings are there and if there is a need, to use them... but it just seemed eerie to me.

Gate of our vacation home.

We left Dachau and headed south to my favorite part of Germany: Berchtesgaden. There we stayed at a little vacation home where we had our own little kitchen and living room--definitely a few steps up from the hostel life! We had a deck from which we could look out over the farm's field and the ponies grazing (in the rain) and snow-covered mountains in the background. We walked down (WAY down) to the city center and amusingly enough, the only real food we could find was Italian, so we didn't eat German as we had hoped. Then we had to climb back up (WAY up).


11. April
Hiking around the city of Berchtesgaden, we found the salt mines but decided not to do the tour. Perhaps we should have, but we didn't. Mom and I spent the afternoon snooping in the shops.

Königssee

12. April Hiking around Königssee. Beautiful.

13. April

We started off early with the plan to meet my friend Sebastian in Regensburg for lunch. First, we had the city of Ramsau and its famous Pfarrkirche St Sebastian to see. In the rain. Thankfully, Mom didn't decide to make angels in the river, though she thought about it. There was no rail on one side of the bridge we walked on...and when there's a view as magnificent as the church with foggy mountains behind, where one is walking is the last place one is looking!

Hintersee on a rainy day.

From there, we headed to one of my favorite places in Berchtesgaden, Hintersee. The clearest water I have ever seen tucked in amongst mountains and a little town on one shore. Across the lake is, on a sunny day, a view of Hitler's Eagle's Nest perched on a peak.





Steinerne Brücke (Stone Bridge) in Regensburg

We made it to Regensburg with little trouble. Then it changed. Miss Garmin took us to a parking garage, supposedly the closest one to the city. It took us an hour of walking by the direction of what steeples we could see to find the City Center and Sebastian, who was waiting on the steps of the cathedral. We won't talk about finding our way back to the parking garage again.
Rather late, we rolled into Neuendettelsau and tucked in for the night.

14. April

Franconian Switzerland.  We had lunch at a neat little restaurant where we had some of the best cordon bleu I've ever had. We watched fish in the creek a bit and then toured one of the most famous caves of the area: Devil's Cave. Pictures were challenging, most quite fuzzy. We looked around at some other castles and a monastery, though we were unable to get in to any.

Holy Blood altar

15. April
Rothenburg ob der Tauber. In the rain. On a Sunday. Even though nothing is open on Sunday, it is an amazing city. Rothenburg is one of the most well-preserved medieval cities, basically untouched by the war. The buildings are magnificent, in places, the city wall is open to walk inside. The two highlights of the day were St. Jakob Kirche with it's amazing altars and the Criminal Museum.  St. Jakob holds not only the  famous high altar, or Twelve Apostles Altar by by Friedrich Herlin in 1466, but also the Holy Blood altarpiece carved by Tilman Riemenschneider, a wood carver from  Würzburg. 

Though I've been to Rothenburg before, I have never gone into the Criminal Museum. I was absolutely amazed and horrified at the things I saw there. Wagon wheels with blades to run people over. Once the body was broken, the body would be woven into the spokes of the wheel and left for all to see. So many of the methods of torture had such a large shaming component. Many masks of shame, different styles for different offenses.

16. April
Mom, Dad, my school friends, and I had breakfast together...the traditional Bavarian Weißwurst, Senf (mustard) and Hefeweißen, before Mom and Dad hopped on the train from Neuendettelsau to Frankfurt. There they stayed at a bed and breakfast and flew out the following morning. You'll have to ask them about the rest of their trip home.

Triberg im Schwarzwald and Interlaken

Holy Week.  I continue to marvel at the differences in practices and rituals between home and here in Germany.  Sunday's Palm Sunday service had no procession, no palms.  The only thing different than any other Sunday (and reading the usual Palm Sunday Gospel text) was the fact that my friend was installed as a Prädikant, or lay preacher.  Of course, this event was a big celebration for him and we continued after the service with Weißwurst and pretzels for lunch.

4. April
An early morning of 4:00 am started this 2-week adventure with my parents.  I hopped on the train, half awake, and was in Frankfurt to meet Mom and Dad by a little after 8:00 am.  Their plane arrived and we found our little rental car, Sparky, a Chevy Spark.  After several hours of driving, we were out of Frankfurt and into the Black Forest, and I was almost breathing behind the wheel.

We stopped in Triberg for the night, an adorable little town in the Black Forest.  First thing we did after checking into our hotel was hike up to Germany’s highest waterfall.  Spectacular, even in the rain.  On the way back down, we stopped at a restaurant for supper that was advertising Black Forest Cake…something Mom had her heart set on having.  Only, she about spit her first bite back on the plate.  Yup, there’s alcohol in Black Forest Cake.  I didn’t complain.  I got the rest of it after I finished my half-chicken.  Then we headed back to find ourselves locked out of the hotel that apparently locks before 8:00 pm even when that’s the specified time.

I miss taking part in Lenten services, and now I really feel discombobulated without any Holy Week worship.  It only helped, not very much, to pull up and listen to “Were You There” on YouTube.

5. April
Mom and I each found a cuckoo clock at an off-the-tourist-track shop.  They aren’t the cheap clocks sold in the main tourist shops.  They are made right there in that building.  Many people don’t understand why anyone would want a cuckoo clock so bad.  I LOVE them!  And, the deeper gong of the longer flute does things to my insides.  Mom understands my thing with the gong and my insides, but Dad is confused by it.  Perhaps you get it, perhaps you don’t.  I wish I had a picture of it, but I don't.  Have to wait till I get back to the US to see it again.

We got back in the car and continued south through the Black Forest to Switzerland.  Somewhere not too far out from our destination, Interlaken, we came to a halt.  After sitting in traffic for 15 minutes, our fabulous little Ms. Garmin says, “Extreme traffic ahead.  Recalculating.  Drive 9 km and take exit…”  Well, that doesn’t help much when you can’t go ANYWHERE.  She kept repeating various versions of this until her only option left was to recalculate us how to FLY somewhere, but she didn’t figure that part out for us.  She’s gotten us where we needed to go, but rarely ever the easy way.  I’m sure after taking care of us for 2 weeks she’s going to need therapy.

Dad and Hostel Dog

Finally, still in the rain, we arrived at our hostel, the Funny-Farm Backpacker’s Hostel in Interlaken, Switzerland.  Within minutes of receiving our room key, but before we’d actually found the room, Mom was in fits of giggles about trying to get the luggage and 2 people in the tiny elevator, and then back out again.  I took the stairs knowing there was NO way I was going to fit.  Funny Farm.  Here we are.

More to come soon!

Pax.

Pictures...and...

From Wittenberg.

Schlosskirche, also known as the Castle Church
where Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door.

Luther Garden in which 500 trees are in the process of being planted for the
500th Anniversary of the Reformation in 2017. See the giant Luther Rose?

Check out the Luthergarten link: http://luthergarten.de/english/



Around Neuendettelsau.

And for my exciting news....

Last week I received my internship assignment. Beginning in September, I will be joining Gloria Dei Lutheran Church in Coos Bay, Oregon as pastoral intern to live and learn and grow from and along side this community. Thanks be to God.

Pax.

Eisenach, Wartburg Castle, Wittenberg

Now that I'm WAY behind in blogging...  A few days after my last post (on my adventures in Nürnberg) I was chatting on Facebook with my academic advisor from college.  She was leading a small group on a week-long trip through Germany and was in Eisenach at the time.  11:00 that night, I asked, "if I get on a train early tomorrow morning, can I hike to the Wartburg Castle with you again?"  And so I threw some stuff in my backpack, slept a couple hours and completely unprepared for anything, raced to the train station (after breaking my 50 € bill in the bakery...the train ticket machine doesn't take anything over a 20 € bill).

Almost exactly 12 hours after our Facebook conversation, I was getting off the train in Eisenach where I found a room to sleep in and left for the restaurant where I was to meet the group.  Half way up the giant hill, I caught up to a group of students who I quickly decided were American and since they were going the same direction I was, they had to be Wartburgers.  After a great lunch, we headed for the path that leads to the castle.  Yup, THE castle.  However, it was so foggy there was no view of the top of the mountain until we were on it.  Even then the castle was pretty blurry.  Spooky and gorgeous.  The tour guide was one of the best I've ever had.  Using Lutheran jargon, sharing her knowledge about the castle was her vocation, not her job.  It was obvious she loved what she did, her enthusiasm was great but not overwhelming.  It was honest enthusiasm.  She took us through the Wartburg inviting us to envision ourselves in the shoes of those who through the centuries had created history there.  What was it like to be St. Elizabeth or Luther (Junker Georg) or a Minnesänger participating in the Minstrel's Contest at the Wartburg?  What were the struggles, the concerns, the sufferings that people faced here, alongside the celebrations?  This woman was doing her thing joyfully...with her heart.  And she wore riding breeches.

Luther Room

After some more exploring in Eisenach, some on my own and some with the group, we gathered at the train station for the trip to Neuendettelsau.  This was an exciting trip including no less than ending up on the wrong train headed to Frankfurt rather than Nürnberg and then losing one of the "responsible adults" at the station in Frankfurt.  The rest of us took his luggage and went to Neuendettelsau without him in only a little bit of a panic. The next morning once everyone was reunited and settled I had the opportunity to tour my own town with them.  As has been the case each time I officially tour Neuendettelsau, I am most impacted by the sisters of Diakonie Neuendettelsau.  The sisters continue Wilhelm Löhe's mission of social ministry... the workshop for people with disabilities, the bakery, the flower shop, the parament workshop, the communion wafer "factory" and many other things as their lives revolve around prayer and their ministries through St Laurentius Kirche.

Wartburg Castle birds that greatly amused me...
about 50 of them just standing around like this.

Things mellowed out for a few days, I read, I slept, I studied a bit. Currently I am in Wittenberg, staying in a youth hostel. Got off the train about 1:30 yesterday afternoon, checked in and thought, "I'll take a quick nap and then go wander the city."  Six hours later... I had enough time to grab a quick pizza at the Italian place and get back to the Castle Church (95-Theses church!) for the night Vespers service.  There were 3 of us there. It's a good thing the other two were good singers so I could follow a bit as I fumbled through the German of a service I barely know in English.  Today I met up with another of my Wartburg professors for lunch and a visit to the Luther Museum here in Wittenberg.  After supper, I joined the group for a lecture on Philip Melanchthon, Luther's "Little Greek Man", who helped Luther in his translation of the New Testament.

I'll get pics of Wittenberg up...mmmm...when I get around to it.

Pax.

Dusty Reflections

This past week I had the opportunity to spend a couple days in Nürnberg. One of those days was Ash Wednesday, but here in Germany the Protestants don't hold Ash Wednesday services like Protestants do in the US. Ashes on the forehead are viewed as primarily Catholic here. Yet, I was privileged to join a group of people from around the world (gathered for the planning of the 500th Anniversary of the Reformation celebration in 2017) for an organ concert in St. Sebald church. A Wartburg Seminary professor, who was part of the group, and I talked about how the organ concert was, for us, our Ash Wednesday worship.

It was a wonderful two days, even if St. Sebald was colder inside than outside during a February organ concert. Nürnberg's City Hostel was much nicer than the A&O Hostel I stayed in before. I spent several hours in the Germanisches Nationalmuseum, followed by the Way of Human Rights, the Toy Museum (awesome toys from the early 1700s through the early 1900s), the Albrecht Dürer Haus museum, Hangman's Bridge, and lots of little shops, including the Trödelmarkt (junk market) that consists of shops on a little island in the river.

Hangman's Bridge

In an antique shop, I found a stein and two pewter shot glasses--all 3 with horses. The shot glasses have farrier scenes and the stein has horses pulling a wagon of barrels. I decided the barrels are the pickle barrels that Katharina von Bora (Luther's wife) escaped from her convent in.

I have given up on knitting a sock. Now I'm trying to crochet a sock. "Sock" shall remain in the singular for now because I may very well end up with a sock-yarn afghan. Granny squares, I can do. Oh, but my wool slippers are improving. I discovered the liquid-rubber-sole-stuff and now I don't wipe out on the linoleum at the bottom of the stairs. Slippery slippers are fun, but that's how I break my toes.

Pickle barrels...

Language continues to be a comical barrier that we all get good laughs from.  Slippers aren't slippers. Horses' boots aren't vegetables (oh, come on, Gemasche and Gemüse? They're kind of close!). I also can't hear the difference between German-accented "Paul" and "porn" which often doesn't end up quite right in the conversation. Yet, I got an email this morning, all in German, and as I usually do, I skimmed through it without the dictionary (or Google Translate) to see what I could get out of it. To my very big surprise, I understood the whole thing! All by myself! Whoohoo! Ok, back to reading Sebastian's children's book, "Gebete einer Maus" ("Prayers of a Mouse").

Out my window one morning before all the snow melted last week.

Pickle barrels. That's almost as bad as being puked up by a whale!

Pax.

Time flies...and so do horses!

I don't have a whole lot of new and exciting things to blog about at the moment.  Next week will bring the semester to a close and our 6-week holiday will begin.  This also means that I am at the half-way mark of my year in Germany.  I can't believe how fast the time is going, even the weeks that are not filled with crazy adventures fly by. 

Lately I've been spending a fair amount of time being frustrated by definite articles--there is no system to the gender of nouns, nothing to do but memorize...and without knowing the gender, it is impossible to say anything because everything else in the sentence revolves around the gender of the nouns.  Nouns are easy to learn...but to remember which one of the three definite articles is attached to the front is another story.  The point is, I haven't been taking a lot of time to reflect, at least not enough to write anything even semi-coherent. 

Linaro--gelding in rehab after having bone chips removed from a hind fetlock.

Today my abs are reminding me of my fabulous riding lesson yesterday.  It's been a while since I had an instructor holler in my direction, "Alyssa! You're not on cross country!"  How is it that instructors never seem to look when things are going really well...and the second things fall apart (like my canter transition yesterday) is when the instructor turns around?  Or is it that those are the moments that so quickly draw attention?  Chagallo and I weren't out of control in the least, only a bit strung out, flat, and maybe a little too fast.  But it was fun!  We'll see what happens tomorrow.  And, I definitely won't drink 4 cups of coffee and eat an entire box of Valentine's Day chocolate before I ride tomorrow.

Pax.

"One cat leads to another."

One link leads to another and soon I find myself distracted by this and that.  Today happens to be six-toed cats.  Not that I'm not ALWAYS distracted by a six-toed cat, whether she's begging me to play "Mousie" or dumping the bowl of cherry tomatoes on the floor or because I'm missing her terribly.  Oh, my dear Madelaine!  Sniff.

Madelaine Hemingway-Augustson, named after Ernest's sister, resting her 21 toes. (6+6+5+4)

So after chasing a few links in the direction of six-toed cats, I came upon this clip on YouTube. Being it's February, this has many levels of appropriateness. More Februaries than not my family has spent in Key West, Florida where my grandparents would rent a condo at Key West By the Sea, a complex of former Naval base housing. It was in Key West that I inherited my soft spot for "Hemingway cats". 


Of course it won't let you watch it here, but if you click the link you can see it on YouTube. Snow White or Snowball...depends on who you ask.



And one cat leads to another. I'm not sure it can be said cats aren't disruptive when one is trying to write, however they certainly can inspire good stories and occasionally academic papers.

Another great Hemingway House website:
http://www.hemingwayhome.com/cats/

It must be time to pick up "Old Man and the Sea" again.
Pax.

The Bowl: Is there Supe in it?

Yes, it's time again for me to go on my yearly rant. I'm not going to quit. What is approaching on Sunday?  This comes as a challenge to us Americans as the American national religion reaches it's peak.  On Sunday, millions will gather together around a talking box to watch people pummel each other for millions and millions of dollars and eat lots of junk food. Then let's mention the amount of money that goes into the advertising.  Though I refuse to watch any part of the game, or even pay attention to who is playing, I'll admit that I get the urge to YouTube the Budweiser commercial to see what the Clydesdales are doing each year.  Oh, the Super Bowl.  What are we doing?  Why is it that we so willingly support the frivolity of such an event and lifestyle?  One that steals resources that might better be used to feed those who are hungry?

The quote I post on Facebook every year at this time comes from Fr. Mike. 
"Jesus would stand in the [Superbowl] stadium and say, 'How do you justify this?' and the people would kill him."
Every year I receive defensive and angered comments.  How true is this quote?  How do we justify anything about the Superbowl?  The use of money?  The use of time?  The violence that erupts on the field, in the stands, and in the home? (Statistics show that the rate of domestic violence reports skyrockets on Super Bowl Sunday.)

Yet there is a glimmer of hope contradicting the many forms of violence involved in the Super Bowl.  Souper Bowl of Caring Sunday.  This is an ecumenical movement which calls our attention to the needs of the world, calls our attention to the reality that we attempt to escape from by worshipping such gods as American football.  Souper Bowl of Caring is a movement that calls us to actively fight hunger and poverty:

"While Americans turn their attention to the biggest sports event of the year, Super Bowl XLVI, more than a quarter of a million young people are working to transform Super Bowl weekend into the nation’s largest celebration of giving and serving through Souper Bowl of Caring.

During the weeks leading up to the big game, Souper Bowl of Caring youth...collect donations through congregations and schools and donate 100% of their collection to a local charity of their choice. Many will also volunteer at their selected charity the day before the big game."  (Souper Bowl of Caring press release)

As we partake in the festivities of Sunday, February 5, 2012, may we be uncomfortably aware of the injustices, poverty, and hunger in our own communities and around the world and so moved into action of enthusiastic giving and serving.

A Hymn for Souper Bowl Sunday

God, You Give Us Recreation
8.7.8.7 D IN BABILONE (“There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy”)

God, you give us recreation, rest and play when work is through,
Game and sport and celebration, times that challenge and renew.
In the days we spend together, in the feasts that we prepare,
In the times of joy and laughter, may we know your loving care.

Yet, O Lord, we see you crying for the ones who know no rest,
For your children, hungry, dying, for the homeless and oppressed.
May we, as your sons and daughters, share with open heart and hand,
Till your justice flows like waters to the poor throughout the land.

Bless, O Christ, our gifts of caring, for we know without a doubt:
Soup and bread are made for sharing, hands are made for reaching out.
Even in our times of playing, may we keep the vision clear:
Keep us serving, loving, praying, welcoming your kingdom here.

Tune: Dutch Melody arr. by Julius Rontgen (1855-1933)Text: Copyright © 2000 by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette.  All rights reserved. 
Email:  bcgillette@comcast.net   
Copied from Songs of Grace:  New Hymns for God and Neighbor by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette, Upper Room Books, 2009. 
Permission is given for free use of this hymn to churches that support Souper Bowl Sunday. http://www.carolynshymns.com/

Pax.