Lessons From A Dog Guide
Sermon
Sermons On The Second Readings
Series I, Cycle C
Introduction
I am not usually a great enthusiast for a series of lessons for any liturgical season. My mind is easily distracted and doesn't seem to be able to capture the rhythm and flow that the author intends. This was not the case with Dee Brauninger's "Lessons From A Dog Guide." I had, and I am sure, will have over and over again, a wonderful time reading her work.
Dee's writing ministry is such a gift. She has a way with words that makes one's heart sing and be open to learn and hear more. As I was reading I kept calling out to my spouse, "Listen, listen to this...." Gentle phrases leap out and make one think and wrestle with God and one's self.
Dee and dog guides, Dolley and Treasure, help all of us understand that God chooses unique ways to reach us. Dee, Dolley, and Treasure and the ancient, ever-powerful words of scripture help us begin to understand that our faith is living and growing. Our faith "reflects a partnership of patience and acceptance, a team effort between God and the human family."
It is this team effort, so wonderfully illustrated with story, that pushes me to places that I am normally afraid to look, let alone dare experience. Dee's words open my eyes to see that asking for help is a gift, not a failing, and that trust can be experienced even under the toughest conditions. She also brings my euphoria of newly learned truths down with the bump of "Finding one's self is not necessarily permanent." There will always be work to be done. The good news is that none of us have to do the work alone -- God and dog guides and good friends and strangers will be there.
I took my position as the Inclusive Ministry Coordinator to work with various marginalized folks in our church and the world. I hope to help our church be faithfully hospitable to everyone. I hope to be able to give strength to others as we work for justice and shalom. The incalculable gift I receive daily from my position is the friendships, helpful hints, confrontations about my "I'll do it alone" attitude, and strength to know that I am not alone -- God and others are with me. "Lessons From A Dog Guide" is the perfect companion piece to help me into the rhythm and flow of partnership. I believe that you, too, will find joy and courage, hope and deep meaning in this delightful collection of sermons.
The Rev. Margaret Slater,
Inclusive Ministry Coordinator
The United Church of Christ
Cleveland, Ohio
Preface
Years ago, having visited with a woman with multiple sclerosis who worked with an assist dog, I replaced the phone receiver with a sense of awe. The dog's presence enhanced this woman's physical stability, enabling her to leave behind walker and wheelchair for periods of time. At a curb, it lifted by her pant leg the foot that could not rise by itself. The dog then positioned her foot on the sidewalk. Bracing herself against the dog's shoulders, the woman brought the other leg to the curb.
Indoors, the dog nudged her body into a sitting position so she could rise from her bed. The woman could place a shirt on her head but lacked the strength to pull it on or remove it. The dog took care of that, too. Further, it turned door knobs, but it refused to open an outside door when it perceived the woman was having a difficult day.
I marveled but grasped neither the depth of this team's communication nor the breadth of her assist dog's training and skill until seventeen years ago when I became part of an assist dog team. I soon became aware that in addition to guiding my path, two successive dog guides also quietly offered nonverbal guidance that nurtured my faith. Each guide embodied singular attributes that responded to troublesome phases of my life. When I struggled with self-acceptance, a dog guide was provided that excelled in unconditional love. When impatience was the difficulty, the dog guide modeled patience.
Moreover, these dogs appeared to convey to parishioners a truth about the journey into hope that words sometimes fail to express: Let hope get inside of you and let yourself move inside of hope, the metaphor of dog guide said.
When we speak about God's presence, who is to say where in the hierarchy of spirit the line is among God, the human family, and an animal called dog? Sometimes, particularly when we resist the usual forms, God chooses a unique way to reach us. Sometimes, God offers a dog guide to teach a sense of team, trust, steadfastness, or perseverance. Perhaps of fullest impact, this helper has taught a greater understanding of oneness of spirit, that all things are related.
These Lenten/Eastertide lectionary-based scriptures lend themselves to the metaphor of a dog guide team. Our faith, also, is more than unquestioning trust. It grows by bits and pieces. It reflects a partnership of patience and acceptance, a team effort between God and the human family.
It may be that something within the telling of this collection of lessons from a dog guide will conjoin the metaphorical truths of the book of Revelation with the practical religion of the Apostle Paul. Paul wants to wake us up to ourselves. He returns us to the every day of practicing our faith. Revelation is the reward for having done the work of Lent. The message of Revelation says, also, I hear the note of your ongoing struggle. This struggle need not drown out the exquisite music of your life. I sing a song of courage and hope.
I am not usually a great enthusiast for a series of lessons for any liturgical season. My mind is easily distracted and doesn't seem to be able to capture the rhythm and flow that the author intends. This was not the case with Dee Brauninger's "Lessons From A Dog Guide." I had, and I am sure, will have over and over again, a wonderful time reading her work.
Dee's writing ministry is such a gift. She has a way with words that makes one's heart sing and be open to learn and hear more. As I was reading I kept calling out to my spouse, "Listen, listen to this...." Gentle phrases leap out and make one think and wrestle with God and one's self.
Dee and dog guides, Dolley and Treasure, help all of us understand that God chooses unique ways to reach us. Dee, Dolley, and Treasure and the ancient, ever-powerful words of scripture help us begin to understand that our faith is living and growing. Our faith "reflects a partnership of patience and acceptance, a team effort between God and the human family."
It is this team effort, so wonderfully illustrated with story, that pushes me to places that I am normally afraid to look, let alone dare experience. Dee's words open my eyes to see that asking for help is a gift, not a failing, and that trust can be experienced even under the toughest conditions. She also brings my euphoria of newly learned truths down with the bump of "Finding one's self is not necessarily permanent." There will always be work to be done. The good news is that none of us have to do the work alone -- God and dog guides and good friends and strangers will be there.
I took my position as the Inclusive Ministry Coordinator to work with various marginalized folks in our church and the world. I hope to help our church be faithfully hospitable to everyone. I hope to be able to give strength to others as we work for justice and shalom. The incalculable gift I receive daily from my position is the friendships, helpful hints, confrontations about my "I'll do it alone" attitude, and strength to know that I am not alone -- God and others are with me. "Lessons From A Dog Guide" is the perfect companion piece to help me into the rhythm and flow of partnership. I believe that you, too, will find joy and courage, hope and deep meaning in this delightful collection of sermons.
The Rev. Margaret Slater,
Inclusive Ministry Coordinator
The United Church of Christ
Cleveland, Ohio
Preface
Years ago, having visited with a woman with multiple sclerosis who worked with an assist dog, I replaced the phone receiver with a sense of awe. The dog's presence enhanced this woman's physical stability, enabling her to leave behind walker and wheelchair for periods of time. At a curb, it lifted by her pant leg the foot that could not rise by itself. The dog then positioned her foot on the sidewalk. Bracing herself against the dog's shoulders, the woman brought the other leg to the curb.
Indoors, the dog nudged her body into a sitting position so she could rise from her bed. The woman could place a shirt on her head but lacked the strength to pull it on or remove it. The dog took care of that, too. Further, it turned door knobs, but it refused to open an outside door when it perceived the woman was having a difficult day.
I marveled but grasped neither the depth of this team's communication nor the breadth of her assist dog's training and skill until seventeen years ago when I became part of an assist dog team. I soon became aware that in addition to guiding my path, two successive dog guides also quietly offered nonverbal guidance that nurtured my faith. Each guide embodied singular attributes that responded to troublesome phases of my life. When I struggled with self-acceptance, a dog guide was provided that excelled in unconditional love. When impatience was the difficulty, the dog guide modeled patience.
Moreover, these dogs appeared to convey to parishioners a truth about the journey into hope that words sometimes fail to express: Let hope get inside of you and let yourself move inside of hope, the metaphor of dog guide said.
When we speak about God's presence, who is to say where in the hierarchy of spirit the line is among God, the human family, and an animal called dog? Sometimes, particularly when we resist the usual forms, God chooses a unique way to reach us. Sometimes, God offers a dog guide to teach a sense of team, trust, steadfastness, or perseverance. Perhaps of fullest impact, this helper has taught a greater understanding of oneness of spirit, that all things are related.
These Lenten/Eastertide lectionary-based scriptures lend themselves to the metaphor of a dog guide team. Our faith, also, is more than unquestioning trust. It grows by bits and pieces. It reflects a partnership of patience and acceptance, a team effort between God and the human family.
It may be that something within the telling of this collection of lessons from a dog guide will conjoin the metaphorical truths of the book of Revelation with the practical religion of the Apostle Paul. Paul wants to wake us up to ourselves. He returns us to the every day of practicing our faith. Revelation is the reward for having done the work of Lent. The message of Revelation says, also, I hear the note of your ongoing struggle. This struggle need not drown out the exquisite music of your life. I sing a song of courage and hope.

