You know those people who think they need to comment on everything and that they’re obviously the most brilliant people in the world and you just MUST know their opinion because it will change your universe? Maybe it’s one of your parents, maybe the little old lady at church, maybe your next door neighbor that loves to comment on your gardening, or maybe it’s even your pastor that thinks they have it all figured out and that you must be brainless or oblivious.
I know some of these folks are sincerely trying to be helpful. Some are doing it out of love. Some are doing it because they genuinely care what happens to you and they want you to have the happiest life possible.
Others are being nit-picky, patronizing, and annoying.
We used to tell my not very quiet grandmother – “Mind your own plate.” You may think to yourself, who would talk to their grandmother that way? True statement. But we’re a mouthy family and Lord knows that if any outside observer saw all of us interacting they would think we’re nuts or a real life crazy reality show unscripted. It’s not that we didn’t want her love or care or concern, but we could do without the constant commentary and opinion. Constant. Love her and miss her but I find myself wanting to give people “Mind your own plate” checks all over the place. We actually kidded with her that we were going to cross-stitch it and hang it in her kitchen.
You see, there’s a balance to offering one’s opinion to someone or giving advice or making random commentary about someone’s life choices or even day-to-day living. You need to do it in love and you need to give that person a little respect. If you think they’re a moron and you’re giving the advice or the telling what to do from a place of arrogance or superiority or just bossy-ness, than shush. Don’t even say anything. People can see through that stuff. And no one likes to be talked down to. No one wants to be that “dumb” person that doesn’t get it. And who do you think you are to think that you have all the answers to the questions of the universe?
Did Jesus give all the answers? Did he walk up to each of the disciples and dissect their every problem and shortcoming and say here you go, fix it? Did he go around criticizing everything around him? Nope. He did speak a prophetic word when people needed it. He did speak the truth in love. He did have a deep enough relationship with people that he could do that with sincerity and not come off like a jerk.
Maybe this is a bit of a rant but particularly at the start of a semester when people are sizing one another up and making judgments, maybe we should think twice about the assumptions we’re making. We all have our stuff that we deal with and if we’re to be community in the world, than we share with each other and want to get to know one another better. So let’s give a little grace. Not frowns or unwarranted disapproval. But treating each other in love.
One of the Wesley interns posted Romans 12:9-10 the other day on facebook and I think it sums up what I’m trying to say, “Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. 10 Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other.” Honor each other. Don’t cut each other down. Don’t make those comments under your breath that don’t build anyone up. Don’t make assumptions. Give one another the benefit of the doubt and ask yourself – in all seriousness – what would Jesus do?
I am completely slacking on blogs right now which breaks all the rules of regular blogging. Sorry about that! I’ll catch up soon. Right now I’m at a great conference and have tried to be as fully invested in it as possible, but there has been a part of me distracted. Some of you that began following this blog when I started writing after finding out that I had a brain tumor and you walked with me through that journey and the recovery and even though the blog has become a little bit something different, I do still want to give you an update on that good ole brain of mine because I believe that this community of support has been invaluable and really a holy presence in my life and I can’t imagine my life without your prayer and support.
I have been doing 3 month MRI and neurosurgeon check ups over the past year. For the most part, I try to keep moving with life and I give a sincere and concerted effort not to let these worries and fears rule over my life. Then comes the time when I get the envelope from Carolina Spine and Neurosurgery in the mail with all of my appointment times and as Mike and I see it, I can feel the background stress and tension in me and those I love. The unknown is so completely…humbling…scary…difficult. There’s so much to unpack there but that would be an incredibly long blog and mine are already probably way too long.
Last week I went to my (I don’t really care to remember how many its been now) whatevereth MRI and the techs were asking how I was doing and what I was there for, all that good stuff and I told them my hope that maybe this was the visit where I could be increased to every 6 months or every year instead of every 3 months.
On Monday I met with the neurosurgeon and he said that it was the radiologist’s opinion that the part of the tumor still up there in brain/motor cortex land may have grown slightly but that it was very slight. His opinion was that he didn’t see a change and disagreed with the radiologist. We then had a lovely back and forth where I looked at the comparison MRI’s myself and tried to understand and that I got a chance to ask some hard questions. Since Mike was not with me, I could ask some of the things that I want to know and would like to understand but that I don’t want to alarm, worry or hurt someone else by them hearing the questions or the answers. Does that make sense?
So even though it was not my most favorite news in the world, I was okay. My amazing doctor said he was going to take the tumor to the tumor board for them to decide if it had grown or not. I called Mike and my parents on the way home and was okay.
Primarily I was okay because I was leaving the next morning for a conference and I just didn’t have the emotional energy or the whatever to process it.
Yesterday afternoon while I was in a workshop, the doctor left a message and when I hear him say his name I immediately get a little freaked out on the inside even though he’s a fabulous doctor – like fabulous – but it’s just anxiety producing. But then he says an AMAZING thing – the tumor board doesn’t see any change. AND because this place on my lovely brain has stayed consistent this year, I get to stretch the time between MRI’s to 6 months!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I could probably mash exclamation points for a while on that one.) That may seem like a little thing, but it’s such an act of hope and grace and peace to me.
And though I didn’t shed a tear on Monday, I couldn’t stop crying off and on yesterday evening. Is that crazy? The bad news – I take it and I’m like let’s do this thing. The good news – I’m a basketcase. In talking with a dear friend and colleague about this last night I told her as I was trying to process and express my layers of feelings that I really needed to blog about this. For some odd, crazy reason this is how I started this journey – blogging. And it has been such a healing and cathartic piece or even peace for me. There’s something about putting it out there in writing and narrative that makes it something that I feel a little more grounded in. I guess we each have our mediums – whether it’s walking outside or making pottery or playing baseball or journaling. And I am thankful for this one.
In the midst of this I know that there are those walking incredibly hard and deep and heartbreaking journeys right now. I think of the family members that are living this reality right now and the friends and loved ones who have faced challenges that I know not of. Please do lift up in prayer those who are in the midst of the struggle of the unknown and in this thin place where anger and fear and sadness and grief and life and death and joy and pain are so close to the surface at times. Each of us walks this journey at times.
And we’re not alone.
I have seen Christ in the colleagues that I’ve shared with here and that continue to uplift and inspire and challenge and hold me accountable. I have seen Christ in my family who continue to battle for me. I have seen Christ in the countless people that continue to tell me they’re praying for me or those that just give me space to be…and to feel…and to just cry or laugh or talk about it or not talk about it. I have seen Christ when I’m by myself and I am vulnerable and just laid bare as a child of God. Although there is no doubt that I would not have chosen for this piece of the puzzle of life, I have felt Christ’s Spirit and promise more tangibly and have felt the Body of Christ more profoundly and genuine than I have felt in my life.
I am grateful for a community of people that I can keep it real with on the sad days and the angry days and the joyous days and the rock and roll days. I am grateful for a Savior who continues to be that Great Redeemer and Strong Protector and just that Amazing Grace who support us and girds us up in mighty, mighty ways.
So that’s my brain.
And one of the awesome things – 6 MONTHS!!!!!
Grace and peace to all of you. I am gratefu for you all.
There’s something about that saying, “I want to go home.” We’ve been at the beach this past week with my fam and the kids had a blast playing in the ocean and the pool and going to the inlet to see Aunt Guyeth and catch crabs and play with Nemo the dog. It was a great week. But it’s funny, every time Enoch would get tired or cranky or even not get his way, he would say, “I want to go home.”
Now that didn’t mean that he really wanted to go home. We would ask him if he wanted to pack everything up and get in the car, and of course he said no. But there’s something about saying, “I want to go home.”
This past Wednesday parsonage families across the South Carolina Annual Conference moved. These families are always close to my heart during this time of year because I remember how that was as a preacher’s kid in a parsonage family myself. I don’t attempt to speak for all preacher’s kids because we all have different experiences and see things differently, but for me “home” was a big concept.
In the early years, my two brothers and I were sent to our grandparents house while Mom and Dad moved everything from one house to another. They would set up our rooms with the our “stuff” and toys in them and it would feel a little more like home by the time we got there. In one of these first houses, apparently I wrote my name and our phone number on the mattress in my bedroom in case it got lost. I didn’t realize that not even the bed came with us and this was a running joke for the family that came after us.
We’ve gone down the road of explaining to people, yep, in our church one family moves out in the morning and another family moves into the parsonage in the afternoon. For some reason, that’s a hard one for people to get. It is a little strange.
As we got older we knew that when Mom started playing Steven Curtis Chapman’s “For the Sake of the Call” that we better get ready to move. The Spring around the Cabinet convening time was always a time of anticipation/nervousness/fear that this would be the year when we moved. And different families do this so many different ways in terms of how it’s communicated to kids, how the transition is made, how much of your own furniture goes, preparing the child to move, etc.
Now I want say that every move was great. Or that every transition was smooth. Or that each of us felt the same way about each place we lived. There were definitely highs and lows and everything in between at each place. But however we were taught to understand it, we knew that we were moving and that this wasn’t just something that was Dad’s job – it was his calling and that God would take care of us too. Does that mean everything was always sunny and rosy? Nope. But I think I can speak for Josh and Caleb as well when I say that we wouldn’t be the people we are today if not for all of these experiences.
Even those times when we would say, “I want to go home.” And that home be a house that now had another family living in it at our old church. Some clergy couple friends have said that their daughter is having a hard time saying goodbye to her friends and her school and I totally get that. It’s hard and tough and not fun. And not all of us cope well. Not everyone makes new friends easily and wants to leave the old town behind, but I think there are a great many of us that learn some things about ourselves along the way – making new friends, being able to talk to a wide variety of people, seeing different places and different communities and how different churches work, and all sorts of things that are just engrained.
So blessings on those this week in between “homes” and trust that not just home is where the heart is but home is also where you make it and how you create it. Even if it’s the one picture hung on the wall or that one stuffed animal or everyone being together. May we know and trust that our home is with God and that it’s not just something we cling to when we’re scared or angry or things aren’t going our way, but is something that is eternal and can’t be taken from us. May we feel it and may we know it.
Prayer for Moving Preacher’s Kids
Lord Jesus, please bless all of these children moving this week whether they’re toddlers to teenagers. Give them peace and strength and courage as they move from place to place. Help the move be an easy one. Give them the friends that they need and the comforts and hope they need for them to feel at home. Create a haven and shelter for them in this new place and a community of faith and support to surround them and lift them in this time of transition and uncertainty. Provide the teachers, youth leaders, people that will give them that word of encouragement and will nurture and help them grow into the people you created them to be. Give their parents strength and clarity and the rest they need to not only be pastors and leaders but also spouses and parents. Give them the time and priorities and balance of both church and family and the vision and tenacity to know what needs to happen when. Help these families find the special things that they need and locate the right box or restaurant or grocery store or park. Give them not just a physical house, but a real and spiritual home. Help make their way easier and for them to know and trust in your providence and love for them. Surround them in your grace and peace that they may be wrapped in your mercies anew each day. In your name we pray. Amen.
Hope is one of those words that evokes….hope, promise, possibility, trusting something to completion, believing against all odds.
Sometimes hope is something that you grasp hold off in the darkest or most challenging of times. Sometimes hope is what you cling to when you know something may not work out. Sometimes hope is that thing that keeps you moving forward and putting one foot in front of the other.
A friend and colleague emailed me a few weeks ago and said that he was glad that I was hopeful about our Church because we need that. He said he just wasn’t there anymore and had no idea where his calling/ministry was going.
A student and I talked this week about a relationship where things aren’t quite working out and whether one should be hopeful that things might change or if after time and time again of things not changing, it was better to move on.
Another student and I talked about how it totally sucks sometimes to be single and whether God had someone out there for her or if she would every meet someone. Should she hope?
I look at all of the freshman coming through Orientation and their hope and fear and wonder about what the next step in college is going to be.
I look at people facing health concerns whether personally waiting for the next checkup to see if tumors or cancer has returned, those facing the health concerns of family members, or those facing the loss of a loved one and I wonder about hope.
A four letter word. Unlike the others. Hope.
One of my favorite lines in the Matrix movies was said by the Architect to Neo in the second movie (yes the first one is probably the best, but I really liked this quote) – “Humph. Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of your greatest strength, and your greatest weakness.”
Now I’m not saying in the case of the relationship that we live into Albert Einstein’s quote of Insanity – “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” I agree that sometimes our hope may be misplaced or that we’re trying to see the silver lining when there’s not one. We have to be wise and discerning and honest with ourselves in that.
But I do think we rest in the hope of God and let that four letter word shape our story. I think of the words from Lamentations 3, beginning with verse 19, “I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassion never fails. They are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him;”
The thing about hope to me is that it’s an active thing. You don’t just hope to win publisher’s clearing house or the lottery or to strike gold or to find a big pile of money in a brief case outside your house and expect it to happen just by hoping for it. You have to actually enter to win publisher’s clearing house or buy the lottery ticket or rob the bank to find the briefcase full of money or work hard as heck on “Gold Strike Alaska” on the Discovery channel. Not really encouraging any of these things but you get my drift. You discern where the Spirit is leading you. You don’t sit passively and hide out, but you grasp hold of your life with two strong hands and engage and grow and keep pushing forward. You rest in the hope of God. Giving God the chance to move and breathe and blow all over your life and your plans and your hopes and dreams.
If you really want a more solid devotional life, be intentional in making that happen. Set aside time to pray, journal, sit in silence and listen, subscribe to the Upper Room email every morning, check out Alive Now, ask God to lead you to the people and resources that would best speak to you. If you want joy at work or you want to do that thing that you’ve always dreamed of but that doesn’t fit with the “plan” in your head – ask God to show you the way. Actually explore the possibilities and open yourself to making changes and making it happen. There are many “what if” dreams that we have or moments or seasons of dissatisfaction or frustration, but in some ways we just comfortably stay in our safe little ruts because actually doing something about these things are scary as heck. And we don’t know if it will work. Or we’re scared that we’ll try and it won’t work and then we’ll have failed or lost that dream.
Swinging for the fence, hoping when it seems like it’s fruitless – you’ve got to actively and sincerely and intentionally do it and put your time and actions and heart where your mouth is.
What are your hopes?
In your personal life?
In your professional life?
In your vocational journey?
In your spiritual journey?
For your family?
For your friends?
For our Church?
For our world?
Hope.
Not a “Christian” song but I do think it talks about grasping hold of your life and not making excuses or complaining when we feel hopeless or frustrated or afraid. Live your story with hope, actively engaging, and knowing that the crud will come, but there is One who gives us hope each step of the way.
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. — Hebrews 11:1
I have no idea who said this but I know I didn’t make it up myself. Someone told me once that we all have a sermon and each Sunday we just preach it a lot of different ways. I’ve thought about this for awhile, and I have found this idea intriguing. In discussion with Josh back and forth over sermons or with Mike back and forth over music, there’s a part of me that does believe that each of us is given this essence, this thing within us that’s just trying to get out and that’s our story. It’s our thing to share with the world. All of us are different. And that’s what makes it beautiful. We’re not competing over who has the best one or who has the loudest or most compelling, but we each have one to share. Each of us.
I think for me it’s this incarnational theology thing. I don’t even want to know how many sermons I talk about Emmanuel – God with us, that the Great God of the universe decided to come and be one of us, that God is with us in the midst. I know I must say in the midst all the time. I don’t know why this gels with me so much, but even if I’m not preaching about it – let’s say I’m talking about human trafficking or Ruth or the early church in Acts – whatever it is, somehow I end up back with this same uncontrollable and thirsty desire to talk to people about this Savior that wants to know them. Not in an arrogant, aren’t we humans so cool, kind of way, but in a I want to know you and I created you and I have this awesome and amazing journey for you to go on. Not saying that those are always easy stories – because there’s a lot of hurt and evil and junk out there, but a God that goes with us and that gets down in the mud and muck with us – that’s a God I can follow.
I could go down a list of what I think people’s sermons/songs/stories are. Is that weird? But can you think about it? The people around you – what is their thing? What is their essence? What is that thing that they point to?
Let me put in a musical perspective. I am not a musician. I am married to one and I love him and he says I don’t count anymore as a non-musician because I’ve heard him talk so much about it. Maybe that’s true. But I love music. Y’all know I love music. My mind thinks in songs which is why I should give money to youtube because I use their videos so much. So back to music – I digress – there’s this guy Stephen Oremus – arranger, orchestrator, musical director. Randomly in July 2005 Mike and I won tickets to Wicked, the musical on Broadway. (I know, I know, I can’t shut up about Broadway, but I like it. I really, really like it.) There’s was a guy conducting or whatever you would call that and he had the best time. He was laughing and smiling and enjoying it in an amazing way. Then here we are this past May and we won tickets to the Book of Mormon Musical and here’s this conductor smiling and so enthusiastic and really loving it and lo and behold – same guy. Stephen Oremus.
Now the guy doesn’t even have a wikipedia page, and I’m tempted to write it myself because I really enjoy what he does. He arranged the music for Avenue Q and Wicked and 9 to 5 and High Fidelity and All Shook Up and the Book of Mormon and as someone who at least loves and owns the soundtrack to three of those, I can hear similarities and musical themes that are common throughout and it’s so cool. It’s just good music and arrangement. As Mike and I were talking about this he talks about how sometimes musicians don’t want to have those themes throughout – you know just like in Project Runway when the girl had all the clothes with petals – you don’t want to be stuck on the one note. But then he changed his mind and said, maybe that’s this guy’s thing. Maybe that’s his gift, his essence – his thing to give.
I don’t know. Call me crazy. But I feel like all of us have that “thing” within us that’s waiting to burst out. That gift whether it be the timid girl who then starts belting out the notes in Sister Act or even the first time Billy Graham stepped behind a pulpit or the first time you do that thing that just makes you feel beyond any word like happy, but alive or content or at purpose.
What’s that thing you want to share with the whole world? What is it that you think they just have to know? How do you share it in your own unique, God-given way?
I get the fear and the doubt and the times you may not feel it and the times when you’re frustrated or annoyed or just plain old pooped. But what’s the story of your life?
Is my story – tired, frantic mother? Is my story – I’ll be glad to talk to you when I’m fully rested and in a good mood and with the right amount of caffeine? Is my story…
If you could tell someone in three sentences or less your greatest purpose or piece of advice or rule to live by or other cliched phrase. If you could share the very essence of who God created you to be with someone, what would that look like? Words? A picture? A song? A hug? A sweater?
Think about it. What’s your thing to share? Your gift to give? What’s your story? And how is it part of the greater story around us? How are we sharing it with the world?
I love this song. I actually love Michael W. Smith’s entire Trilogy on the I’ll Lead You Home album. I know, I know – old school Christian music. Don’t ask me how something titled Angels Unaware fits with this, but somehow I think we live our stories. We live who we are in the good, the bad, and the ugly. On the great days and on the dark days. Whether there are angels unaware or whether we’re right there in the presence of God – we’ve been created and life breathed into us and a story placed in our hearts and on our lives. We don’t always have to have it figured out or feel like we’re good enough, but God is faithful to us and we can trust God’s grace and mercy and never-ending love is available to each of us.
I honestly think of this song every time I say, what’s your story? Matthew West says it well in the Next Thing You Know.
So what’s your story about God’s glory? How are you letting your life speak to the world?
Y’all know I’m a lover of Broadway and with all of the Tony’s it received Sunday night – I’m not the only one who thinks The Book of Mormon is one of the funniest and heart-felt musicals to hit Broadway in a while.
The story follows Elder Price and Elder Cunningham as they are sent to Uganda, Africa. Elder Price really had his heart set on Orlando, but they’re sent to Uganda. All sorts of hilarity as well as the tension of real issues of faith, theodicy and how to deal with the crud of life ensues.
One of the songs at the beginning of the musical that highlights Elder Price’s being the shining star of all things and his belief that he’s going to rock anything he does is called “You and Me (But Mostly Me).” I think it says a ton about how we see ourselves in ministry sometimes. Rev. Bob Howell during his leadership seminar during Annual Conference talked about the Lone Ranger who have heard about a ton in the old model of ministry. In the midst of an election year, there’s always a bit of the sense of self-promotion or arrogance or those type words that get thrown around. Thoughts like – but I’m smarter than the person or have put more years of service in or have a harder appointment or would study harder or would be more balanced or am wiser than so and so. There’s a sense of competition or a if this person gets this, what does that say about me kind of thing that takes place sometimes. I don’t entirely know how we combat that, but I feel like a lot of it is setting a tone that we are all in this together and that it’s for the good of the church.
Who wouldn’t want to be the one to do this big thing??? That’s sort of what the song is saying. But you know – how much more powerful and contagious is an entire movement??? I don’t see the GC and JC folks we elected as having these shiny halos or spotlights on them like movie stars, but as servants of the church that stepped up and who are making decisions in the church with all of us. The thing about the present and future of our church whether you’re a death tsunami-er or a let’s die to live person or a let’s just get the Spirit of God moving and continue growing into what it means to be Church-er, we all want the same thing. Or at least I hope we are. I don’t care if one person or a body of people or what I’d like – a movement of people – begin this renewal, reformation, outpouring of the Spirit, commitment to prayer, spiritual practices and the scripture – putting it all into action. We just need to do it. To live it. To breathe it. To commit to it. To prayerfully and intentionally go forward.
We are all in this together. Whether fresh out of seminary, whether just commissioned or ordained, whether second career, whether retired, whether right in the middle of our pastoral ministry, whether young or old or not wanting to be classified as either, whether man or woman, no matter where we are on our journey or what we may look like.
How do we feel when the person beside us is lifted up? What are our motivations? What role or part can we play in our particular time and place? What does renewal in The United Methodist Church look like? Not just what’s a vital congregation or Call to Action, but what does renewal and revival look like where you are? What are the gifts and graces given to each of us? How can those be used? Instead of just hearing and absorbing what we hear and learn and are inspired by, what are our next steps?
For some of us, we hear these inspiring things at conferences or on podcasts or in articles and we’re so tired and worn out and blah from the day to day or the uphill battles, that it’s hard to go forward. See, the thing about being lone rangers and thinking it’s all about us, is that we forget that we’re all in this together. Not just a cliche or a good thing to throw out there in theory or during a presentation, but seriously. Is there someone that you can be for real with and can bust open the good, the bad, and the ugly, and you know it will be okay? Who do we depend on to be our church?
This is not just a “but mostly me” but something that if we are to survive, if we are to be a stronger, healthier, more grounded body – we’ve got to be supporters, advocates, confidants, friends to each other.
This isn’t just the church or ministry folk, but all of us. It’s not about this congregation or that. It’s not just about shuffling our membership to churches as we like the pastor or not or the youth program or not or that they talk too much about money or focus too much on social justice. It’s about what’s essential and what the mission of the Church is. How do WE make disciples? How are WE in ministry WITH the community? How are WE growing and learning and changing and praying and leading and growing?
It’s a heck of a lot more exciting and a lot less pressure when it’s not just all about me, but about all of us. Let’s celebrate that.
How and why do we make it all about us??? What are some assumptions and world views that might change if it’s not so me-centric? What does the Bible say about all this me stuff??? How is evangelism a whole new ball game when it’s just about you, but it’s about the world?
The United Methodist campus ministries went on our annual trip to New York this past week. It always a rich time with students getting to make new friends and see and learn so much from the city. It is also a blessing to be able to stay at Metropolitan Community UMC in Harlem. Their hospitality has always been a huge gift to us and a shining example of the United Methodist connection.
This year the United Methodist Seminar Program led by Jay Godfrey and Jennifer McCallum outdid themselves, scheduling 3 parts of our group in 3 different areas of the city for 3 days to learn about the communities, culture, and social action taking place. We were divided into groups going to the Bronx, Lower East Side and Harlem and had one day of service at a meals on wheels sort of thing where we actually walked to apartments and delivered meals to the elderly, one day of learning about cultures in our particular communities, and one day of seminar focusing on some of the issues in our communities and what organizations in those communities are doing to combat them.
I had spent some time doing seminars in Harlem and the Lower East Side so I was particularly interested in the Bronx. What a huge area and diverse group of people the Bronx includes. In all of the stops at museums, art collectives, a Yankees game, community action groups – each area of the Bronx was really different. They were all so proud to be “Bronxites” that their enthusiasm for their borough was infectious. We all felt like Bronxites to an extent at the end of our time. Did you know that the Bronx has more green space than any other burrough in New York? Me either.
What we heard from a lot of people and I would think the other groups would say this to, was people saying that they grew up dreaming of moving somewhere else and starting a new life, but that through whatever experience, education, epiphany moment, they decided to stay in their community and try to bring about change and keep fighting for chances and opportunities for the children growing up behind them. Many of the speakers we talked to were born and bred in these communities and the passion, devotion and pride that they felt for these places was evident in everything they said whether the good or even the challenging issues that they are still battling.
It was good for the students and me to see these people standing up for what they believe in using real, practical, and change-bringing principles to their every day, bringing voice to the voiceless.
The divide I feel when I’m talking about us going to a living wage rally or fighting on behalf of the poor versus some of the questioning looks I get from people back home, has a lot to do with people’s questions about justice and righteousness. We say we don’t believe all of the malarky about people who suffer having done something wrong or may not have lived right and have caused their suffering. We say that we need to support our mentally ill, veterans, the widows, the orphans, those that can’t help themselves. But then again, when it comes to our wallets and our own comfort, it seems easier to say and assume that if people were just working hard enough, if people just did what it takes to succeed, they would somehow pull themselves up out of these places of poverty.
We just witnessed a royal wedding where a commoner who descended from coal miners and criminals married a prince. As much as I like the fairytale and as hard as her family worked and as many names they have been called for “social climbing,” I think it paints a somewhat unfair picture of what the cycle of poverty really looks like. To say that it is hard to break that cycle is such a rough and belittling use of an adjective that it feels wrong to say. To stand up in the face of corruption, in the face of not just people but entire systems that abuse you, to demand the same rights that others enjoy when you’ve never gotten a fair shake – that is scary, it’s terrifying, it’s intimidating.
I am constantly amazed at the voices that do stand up though. I was glad to hear of a student from the Bronx talk about students in the Bronx organizing a walk out of thousands of students when the government was going to take away their right to a student metrocard to get to and from school. I was inspired listening to Intikana from Rebel Diaz Arts Collective talking about how they’re using art and music and film and all sorts of creative outlets to give people in the Bronx a way to express themselves in non-violent and constructive ways. It’s great to see young people working to bring about a new day. It’s good for all of us to see that we can make a difference, whether through our churches doing a soup kitchen, clothing closet, food pantry, or other social action. In the midst of the sometimes uphill climb and little defeats in the battle, it’s good to know that none of us are alone in this battle and that we have folks journeying with us all over the world.
From a faith perspective, we are clearly called to the poor, to the wounded, to those that need to feel that love and wholeness and new life. This isn’t just the obvious poor among us, but it’s also the single mom trying to make ends meet, it’s also our cranky next door neighbor who’s as lonely as heck, it’s also our friends, our family, the people we see at the office or grocery store or school.
One of this past week’s lectionary texts was 1 Peter 2:19-25 and it talked about suffering and following in Christ’s footsteps. Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t ask God for suffering. If you suffer, you suffer, but Christ suffers with you, I get that. But I’m not asking for it like the lovely Mr. Wesley in his new year’s service. There’s two things I like in particular about this text – one that Christ suffered for us and so God knows what suffering feels like – for real without a doubt not even his fault suffering. There’s a song in the new Broadway musical, The Book of Mormon that’s called “Man Up.” I am NOT endorsing or saying you should go out and watch Book of Mormon or get the soundtrack. The story is about two Mormon missionaries in Africa and needless to say, one of them is seeing that he has a challenge before him and he’s like, hey – Jesus had to man up, so I need to too. I’m not saying that we all have to man or woman up, but the song is right in that Christ did suffer and die and he’s been there. He knows what it’s like to feel alone, tired, hungry, beaten, ridiculed, and tortured.
The other thing is that he did the suffering for us, that “by his wounds you have been healed” and he is our Shepherd leading us home. To me, this calls us in two different directions – one to realize that we realize that this LOVE and sacrifice was for us. The other is to realize that we have to share this LOVE and sacrifice with the world. We can’t say, that’s not my problem, it’s a problem over “there” with “those” people in “that” place. Nope, it’s something that we all must wrestle with as we share the light and love of Christ. This cycle of poverty only ends as we all jump into the fight, pool our resources, and leave our pride, self-protection, and rationalizations at the door.
We learned a ton in New York. It was a great trip. The thing I like about these trips is that it’s not just something we leave in New York, in this far away place, but these are things we learn and do and bring home to make a difference where we are, not just in a nice, greeting card kind of way, but for real.
How do we break the cycle of poverty in our communities? How do we break the cycle of unbelief and fear and doubt? How do we break the cycle of people believing that Jesus would just look at them with contempt and say that they deserved it because of what they did? What are our churches saying about the cycle of poverty and suffering? Anything? What message are we telling? What inner soundtrack are our lives rocking along too?
A nice, tame song by JJ Heller, “What Love Really Means.”
Man Up from the Book of Mormon – (don’t forget this is a satirical musical written by the creators of South Park and Avenue Q so listen at your own risk…this is your disclaimer, seriously.)
If someone was going to write a satirical musical about our faith? our denomination? our churches? what would it say???
I’ve really enjoyed the lectionary texts from the past couple weeks that have focused on light. I’ve always liked Epiphany but even more so this year for some reason. I appreciate that Epiphany is not just one Sunday that we celebrate those lovely wise folks coming to see the new born King, but that it’s an entire season stretching until the day before Ash Wednesday where we’re all opening our eyes to God around us. To me that’s pretty significant in our church calendar that this time between the birth of Jesus – the incarnation – and Lent is a time where we a people of the light get a chance to center and focus on that light, opening ourselves to it.
I admit that I’m now watching ABC’s “Off the Map.” If that makes me a drama and Grey’s Anatomy lovin’ television watcher than so be it. I like the concept that these three doctors have come to this jungle to get away from whatever they have left back home and yet they seem to face these same fears and concerns no matter how far they have run. In the first episode the three newbies gather and realize that the doctors that hired them had done their homework on each of their back stories. The guy of the group says, “So much for a blank slate!”
I think sometimes we feel like that. “So much for a blank slate!” We wish that everything would just go away and be wiped clean. The thing is though that community and church is not just about slates being wiped clean although it does say Jesus scatters our sins from the east to the west. But there’s something about people loving each other in spite of the flaws and the crud. There’s something about folks sharing in that refuge and safe place and being that harbor for each other whether it’s in the good, the bad, or the ugly.
Sometimes that being there for one another is letting go of a past wound or hurt. Sometimes it’s acknowledging and saying outloud a secret that has kept us bound and stuck, whether it be our own, a family secret, or a burden we just kept on carrying. Sometimes it’s admitting that we may not have it all figured out and we really struggle in some areas. Sometimes it’s confessing something and seeking reconciliation. Sometimes it’s just being open to where the Spirit of God leads.
It amazes me that at the times we are the most down or low or hopeless/helpless/spent – these are the times that often the light starts to break into those cloudy days. There’s just something about that light that no matter how dark it may get – it breaks in. We watched the movie TRON last night. I know, I know – not the most high brow or Oscar worthy – but it was really surprisingly good and we didn’t want anything that would make us think to much at the end of a long Sunday. I never saw the original but I really liked this one. Part of the beauty of the story is that one of the characters had never really seen the sun. She had no idea what that would look like. She had read about it in books, true, but if you think about it – if you had no concept of what the sun is – how do you describe it? The warmth, the light, that it’s practically everywhere, that it moves and shifts and changes.
There’s something unexplainable about the light but there’s something incredibly powerful. In these days after the shooting in Tuscon, as we think about what it means to be community and shelter for one another as the Jars of Clay song talks about that I’ve mentioned before, I think about all of us holding candles together as one. All of us lifting those candles as one. That’s a powerful sight. That it’s our collective voice, our collective being – lighting up as one. Not “Lord in your mercy, hear my prayers” but “Lord in your mercy, hear our prayers.” That we as community as a fellowship of believers lift each other up, we rejoice with each other, we mourn with each other, we keep telling each other to press on.
In that same episode from “Off the Map” (I know, I know) the main doctor says at the end to one of the new girls who’s figuring out why’s she there to look at the Southern Cross. They’re a set of stars that look like a cross in the sky (yes, I wikipedia-ed it so it’s sort of legit). He talks about how Magellan used the Southern Cross. He knew that even if he was lost, he knew that if he found that in the sky, he would make his way back home. All he had to do was keep on going. So he tells her, “Keep on going.”
Now I know that there are times when we don’t want to “Keep on going.” There are times when we think we can’t keep on going, much less want to. But there are people and songs and scriptures and even those sometimes annoying bumper stickers that are lights that pop out along our way that help light our path to keep on going. There is a shelter of people that help us to keep on going. And that’s not just with a slate wiped clean, because you can’t escape and dodge forever, but that’s with all of who we are and are yet to be.
So are we those lights for others? Are we ready to welcome people? Are we ready to open our arms and our hearts and our eyes? Are we as the Church/church ready to offer a refuge, a harbor, a light to those in a world raging? Or do we just look like a big blob of dark with all of our “stuff” that sometimes gets in the way?
One of my favorite songs off of the new Jars of Clay “Shelter” CD (i know i can’t stop listening to it) is one called “Small Rebellions.” Sadly there are no youtube videos that I can find out there yet. But the words are below.
“God of the break and shatter – Hearts in every form still matter – In our weakness help us see – That alone we’ll never be – Lifting any burdens off our shoulders – If our days could be filled with small rebellions – senseless brutal acts of kindness from us all – if we stand in between the fear and firm doundation – push against the current and the fall – God of the worn and tattered – All of your people matter – Give us more than words to speak – ‘Cause we are hearts and arms that reach – And Love climbs up and down the human ladder – Give us days to be filled with small rebellions – Senseless brutal acts of kindness from us all – If we stand between the fear and firm foundation – Push against the current and the fall – We will never walk alone again – No, we will never walk alone.”
I’m glad that we don’t walk alone. That there are lights along our way guiding us home and that we can be lights to the world. Open our eyes Lord that we may see the ways that we can grasp hold of your light today that the world may see and know…
If I’m ever not blogging it’s because I’m swamped or maybe even more than I’d like to admit – I’m afraid to “voice” something. A friend of mine who I love commented on my facebook a few weeks ago when she heard about the campus ministry funding cut – something along the lines of “feeling like Job lately?”
Don’t want to go there because I’m not asking for any other challenges headed this way, but after going to Presbyterian’s Ballantyne office for the MRI yesterday I returned to Wesley to find that our air conditioner has officially passed on to the other side. When there’s an explosion and smoke and then the awesomely amazing Adams Services guy shows you wires burned in two and half the thing on the inside is black and no fans are moving – that’s not a good sign.
It’s an even worse feeling when he has to bring in the “big guns,” ie. the owner of the company to give me the bad news that it’s good and gone and they can’t rig it up any other way. The thing worked hard for us so I am thankful for that. I’m also thankful that it’s not too hot so far today and no one tell the Wesley students that there won’t be a/c tonight – we’ll make do and I want them to still come!
I couldn’t sleep for a long time last night trying to figure out where in the world we’re going to get $8,000-$11,000 for an air conditioner and even more importantly for the winter – the heat pump so that it’s not just straight up gas heat. I looked up grants and wow that us.gov sight is a monstrosity of crazy info. I know that somehow, someway we’ll come up with the money to make this happen. Somehow we always do and I know that God and the people that support this ministry are faithful.
For the past two days Mike has been recording with Tom Conlon in the worship/fellowship room at Wesley. Many have said this room’s acoustics are like magic and even without AC, the magic room came through. In walking up to the building this morning and rolling up the trash cans and recycle bins I began to ask myself why do I care about this building so much? Why do I care about this space? In the sceme of things what does it really matter? When there’s bills to pay and things to repair – what stops us from just chucking it all?
My answer is both simple and sincere. There is magic that happens here. Tears are rolling down my face just thinking about it which makes me either really sappy or beyond emotional. This is not a Harry Potter kind of magic but one that happens when community is formed and shaped and grows and changes and is found. This building is so much more than just a building to me because both as a student and as a campus minister I have witnessed the powerful things that have happened here. We have shared much laughter and some tears, we have shared in worship and I have seen someone’s call to ministry unfold at an Ash Wednesday service, we have cooked dinner as family and have hung out as friends. This is part of what the students mean when they talk about Wesley being a home away from home.
Yesterday after getting back from the MRI I talked to a student who has been coming here for 2 and a half years to use the prayer room several times a week. He’s only been to one Wesley night but he comes and uses the prayer room as often as he can. Yesterday he stopped me in the hall and said thank you for us providing this space for him and for people just to come and be.
I think about the student groups and the gospel choirs and the other campus ministries that use this place and how this building and the things that it stands for and witnesses to is greater than we know. Yes it is just a building – with windows that aren’t the greatest, an exterior paint job that needs some help, and a vacant lot that is probably one of the worst parking lots imaginable – but it is ours and it is home to both the sacred and the sacrilege – the holy and the profane – the mysterious divine and the completely human.
So we’re going to somehow make this work. Somehow. By the grace of God and a lot of prayer and hopefully some creative solutions.
Today at 1:15 pm we’ll go to the neurologist and see what’s up. Do I think a tumor has grown back? Nope. Was I very tempted to ask the MRI folks yesterday? Heck yes. Am I apprehensive? Sure.
Ann Curry tweeted this this morning – “The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” – Elizabeth Kubler Ross
The only way I see this beauty is through the eyes of the community that surrounds us. We get to the other side by the grace of God, the One who sustains us, and those that God has joined with us on this journey. As I wait and hear what’s up today and as I begin trying to figure out that ever lovely money question for air conditioners and programming and all that Wesley jazz – I am thankful for the arms that cradle each of us in both the good and the bad, the light and the dark, the joy and the loss.
I’ll leave you with a song that Tom Conlon played at Wesley a few weeks ago. Love this song. It’s called “Leaning”…
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right had of the throne of God.”
In this season of campus ministry – you can’t just sprint. When people talk about ministry and life in general you’ll often hear comparisons of a sprint versus a marathon. If we’re constantly sprinting – we’re going to give out – run out – tag out.
I have a couple of friends right now training for marathons and they have their run keepers set on twitter and facebook so that everyone is keeping track of their training. This is amazing to me. I have a hard enough time talking myself into any exercise, much less training for a marathon. I admire their commitment – their dedication.
I relate to the part of these verses that says “let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely…” Sometimes it does feel like there our weights holding us down. What are we carrying with us? What is holding us back with all its might? Is it unresolved hurt or anger? Is it a feeling of unworth or mistrust? Is it a sense of betrayal not just of a loved one but even in thinking about God? Is it fear?
There can be a lot that weighs us down especially in the middle of the night as we wrestle with those things that we don’t want to acknowledge in the day light. When everything is stripped away – what holds us back from running the race set before us?
We are not called to live a sedentary life. But exercise and training can sometimes get beastly, especially when you’re not prepared. Nobody is saying that the race is easy. Sometimes you need to spend the big bucks on the right running shoes or suffer the consequences. And in the race of life – sometimes you need to put in the extra time digging into scripture and forming community with one another.
How are we equipped in this life? How are we ready? How do we get geared up like Rocky for the fight ahead? We have to dig into the Word of God. We have to earnestly seek the Lord by prayer and supplication. We have to open our eyes and our heart to the leading of God and the many ways God answers us in miraculous ways every day.
We also don’t have to run the race alone. No one has to sit in their dorm room alone or has to hide in their office during lunch time. Sometimes it feels that way and again – it’s not always easy. But we have to band together as community – as church – with each other or we have little shot of making this trek on our own.
Hebrews 10:24-25 says “And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” In our busy world that seems to burst with “stuff” to do and weights pulling at us from all sides, boy do we need to get countercultural sometimes and ban together and get to know each other.
In a society where one could argue we have more opportunities than ever to connect, there are still so many of us that feel like we have to do everything on our own – by our own strength, our own merit, our own smarts, our own everything. To run this race with perseverance – we’ve got to drop our pride at the door and be willing to step out and reach out to the others running the race with us. If we just sit with each other on Sunday mornings or Wednesday nights or whenever – and we don’t actually get to know one another – how are we being church with one another?
Sometimes even with encouragement and building each other up, it still gets to be too much. A student the other day mentioned how he and his roomate had decided last semester they were going to exercise 5 days a week. They would hold each other accountable and they would encourage each other. He then said they lasted about a week and a half. Hey – for some of us – that’s not bad, but a week and a half…sometimes on our own – even if there’s a whole group of us – it ain’t gonna happen if we’re just doing it on our collective strength.
Bottom line – just like the verse says – we’ve got to keep looking to Jesus. Because none of us are going to run this race perfectly. None of us are going to always have the nice, shiny, non-scuffed up running shoes and the perfect form. Sometimes things get tough and we need to know who to look to. Jesus – the One who sustains us, the One who knows us inside and out, the One who walks before us and beside us each step of the way. Do the training – dig into scripture, find a community that can support and lift you up – but always look to Jesus – who continues to strengthen our faith through both lifes sprints and marathons.
You know those people who think they need to comment on everything and that they’re obviously the most brilliant people in the world and you just MUST know their opinion because it will change your universe? Maybe it’s one of your parents, maybe the little old lady at church, maybe your next door neighbor that loves to comment on your gardening, or maybe it’s even your pastor that thinks they have it all figured out and that you must be brainless or oblivious.
Blessings on the Journey 