Motherhood Mantra May 22, 2012

Mihee Kim-Kort is hosting a series of posts by several women this month called Motherhood Mantras. It has been a joy (and quite moving) to read each post, hearing the unique voices and learning a bit about the families they represent.

I am truly humbled every time I hear the stories moms tell. Not in the competitive sense- more that it reminds me what a crazy sacred trust we are given in the work of childrearing.

Maybe that is the key to stopping the “mommy war” madness. Just listen to each other with the empathy And compassion we try to offer our children on a daily basis.

You can check out my contribution here. Here’s a little preview:

“I can’t do this. I quit.”

Probably not the most positive mantra out there. But I think sometimes your mantra chooses you, and this suits me well. I’m one of those really capable people with plenty of skills and strengths. I even have the spiritual gift of faith. Sometimes those traits conspire to make me think that I can do all things… with or without Christ who strengthens me. At least until life pulls me up short. Nothing does a better job of getting me to the end of myself than attempting to be the “good mom”. And so I quit. Regularly. For almost 17 years of motherhood so far…

From guinea pigs to graduates May 16, 2012

From our first admissions interviews to developing senior traditions, being part of the “inaugural” cohort has been an exercise in figuring it out, being patient, beta testing, pioneering and wandering into new territory.

Many of our instructors had never taught classes online before, nor had they juggled the requirements of face-to-face students with the needs of our dispersed group.

Most of our home congregations, pastors, and judicatory bodies were unfamiliar – if not skeptical – of a full degree program. How could you possibly learn preaching or teaching or those pesky ancient languages this way? Are these like correspondence courses, only electronically delievered?

We had no idea into what we were entering- other than we’d have a group of us muddling through together. For five years. What if we didn’t really get along? Five years might feel more like 50! More importantly, what if the seminary got halfway into our group’s paradigm and couldn’t support the program any more? What would we do then?

And yet we persevered, adapted, learned, adjusted and counted on UDTS to do the same. We found some traditions that just don’t translate to a distance model, and created some rituals of our own. We whined some, and we worked the process a lot. We were advocates for ourselves and the students following behind us. And we read, posted, wrote, watched, listened and read some more.

It’s amazing how long and how short those five years actually were. And how much my life has changed, even as it remained the same. It’s amazing how much I’ve learned in those almost 90 credit hours, and it’s even more amazing how much I have discovered I don’t know. This I do know: seminary, whether via distance ed or not, is no passive academic exercise.

The whole weekend went so quickly. Between the schedule and the swirl of family and friends (and cold medicine), it seemed there was not enough time to just take in the reality that we were done. It’s still sinking in that the diploma I brought home with me is mine. In some ways, it seems way too small to signify the thousands of hours that went into it, the sacrifices that my family and coworkers made to allow me to spend all those hours, and the seismic shifts that have taken place in my heart, soul and mind as a result.

I’m deeply grateful to have sat at the feet of some amazing men and women as they poured not only their academic but their pastoral and personal energy into our lives. They modeled for us what it means to take the gifts God bestows and multiply them for the betterment of the church universal, to be generous with time, and to care deeply for those put in your charge.

As I sat in the Baccalaureate service, looking at the faculty members across the room, the people who had gathered to support their graduates, and my classmates around me, I suddenly felt the physical weight of my robe on my shoulders. It was as if all the expectations and hopes that I had pushed off into the future came to rest, along with the hopes and dreams of those who love and support me in this journey toward ordination. But it was less like a burden than like the warmth of strong hands offering encouragement. Like when my dad, or a coach or a friend would stand behind me, saying “Good job, kid. I’m proud of you.”

I’m deeply honored to have been part of this cohort and the larger class of 2012. I look forward to seeing just what God has in store for each of us.

We’ve all got fish to fry April 29, 2012

prepared for and delivered at Wekiva Pres.  Scriptures: Jonah 2:10-3:5 and John 21:4-17

This was not Jonah’s finest hour.   Three days in the innards of a fish don’t do much for a man’s ego, much less his “fine fresh scent”.   Just imagine Jonah, splayed out on the sand, listening to the sound of water lapping the shore, replaying the series of events that led up to his being vomited up on the dry land. Then he hears it.  The same words that started this whole crazy journey.

Arise. Go to Ninevah.

The first time Jonah heard those words, he got up and went.  Just not to Ninevah. For Jonah, a prophet of Israel, to go to Ninevah and offer “those people” a warning from God about their evil ways, well that was just crazy.  Ninevah was the Evil Empire.  That would be like God sending Tim Tebow to Tallahassee for his senior year to help the Seminoles return to their former glory.   Or sending Johnny Damon from Boston to New York. Crazy!

So of course, Jonah had done exactly the opposite, heading down toward Joppa in hopes of getting to Tarshish.  The only thing crazier than God sending Jonah to preach repentance to the evil Ninevites?  Jonah thinking that he could flee from God’s presence.  A boat, a storm and a fish later, Jonah knew how serious God was about this task.  So when the fresh air filled his lungs, and the word of God came to Jonah this second time, he listened.   He got up. He went to Ninevah.

***

Now Peter, he had known good times and bad times on a boat.  After all, he had fished for most of his life. All but the last 3 years, really.  This night?  It was about as bad as he’d seen: hours of dragging the net in, throwing the net back out, hauling it in and throwing it back out with nothing to show for it.  But a bad night fishing is better than a night spent awake just thinking

And Peter had plenty to think about. Jesus had back among them more than once.  But it was not like before.  So it felt good to be back out fishing.  For fish.  Jesus couldn’t really have meant he would ever be a fisher of men.  That was crazy. Almost as crazy as the night the storm came on them, the night he had tried to walk out on the water toward Jesus.  in that brief moment, he really felt like he knew Jesus, and knew what he – Peter – was made for.

Sinking into the water that night was nothing like the waves of pain and regret that washed over him every time he remembered.  Sure, he had only denied being a follower three times, but he had relived it hundreds more. Would he ever be able to remember the face of his rabbi without seeing anger and disappointment?

He had half-heartedly agreed to try dropping their nets on the other side.  But when the fish filled the net and someone pointed to the shore, Peter was out of the boat, running back to Jesus. Breaking bread with Jesus again, looking into those eyes again, Peter must have been waiting for the conversation that came next.  Three times he had the chance to say it aloud,  “Yes, Lord. I love you.”  How many times must Peter have replayed that breakfast on the beach as he, Paul and the others began their own ministries among the people, feeding God’s sheep.”

***

           Jonah and Peter, David, Mary Magdalene, Joseph, Paul of Tarsus.  The Bible is filled with stories of second chances, of choices redeemed and lives turned upside down and of people transformed by God’s grace.

Those stories tell our stories.  The locations and times are different, but aren’t we still people who prefer our way over God’s way? We can be people who get scared and tuck our identity as believers away when going incognito is safer or more convenient. We are people whose faith falters, despite our best intentions. And we, too, live in a culture that values individual power, wealth and status over community and service.

Yes, these stories are our stories, but more importantly, these stories tell God’s story.  They tell us of God’s sovereignty and mercy.  Like Job, Jonah experiences first hand the power God has to command the world and all that is in it.  We learn, as they do, that God gives and takes away, and that we are not always going to understand the why behind the giving and the taking.  We see that we can trust that our God  - who was, and is and ever will be – can see far beyond our horizon of time and will redeem all manner of pain, tragedy and sorrow. We can believe that the Lord is good, that God’s love is everlasting and persistent. We understand that we are blessed when we do those things God requires: to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God; to arise and go share God’s word, even if it means going to Ninevah.

Peter knew these stories. And he had seen and been part of the Messiah’s ministry on earth.
And yet, like us, Peter needed to hear and believe the good news of the gospel.  Again. That the life, death and resurrection of Christ redeems us once and for all. That we who are wholly unworthy are made whole by grace through faith.   And that in gratitude, we love God and our neighbors. We feed God’s sheep.

Like the generations of Christ followers between Peter and us, the patterns of our lives together in Christ reflect these truths. Today especially, our worship reflects the ways we embody this pattern of call and response, of enfolding and sending.

The baptisms of M, B and B remind us that we are first called and claimed as God’s children.  In the waters of baptism, we become part of the church of Jesus Christ.  We are sealed by the Holy Spirit  and set apart for a life of Christian service. As a congregation, we promise each baptized member and their family that we will help nurture them in the faith, caring for these little lambs.

Today, six young people are standing in response to a call to make public their own professions of faith. In Confirmation class, they worked hard put their faith into their own words, and in some of the words we are using in our liturgy today.  In front of God and you – their brothers and sisters –they are here to offer their unique gifts in service to the church and the world.

Likewise, the new members we welcomed today have affirmed their in Christ faith before the session.  They have answered a call to church membership.  A membership that  is not about the benefits of joining, but is about a joyful reconnection to the church universal and a recommitment to discipleship and service.

Today we also commission 12 missionaries to their work in Elizabethtown, Kentucky. While not a call to the land of our enemies, answering this call to arise and go requires sacrifice –of time and money, of energy. It requires a commitment to one another and to the strangers they will serve, all in the name of Jesus and in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Friends, we are called over and over and over again, in every season of our lives, to draw nearer to God, to reaffirm our faith, to recall who we are and to be who we are meant to be.  Thus we gather here in this place. Week after week, all of us are called to worship, we are called to confess, and we are called to give of our abundance.  In our music, prayers and readings, and hopefully in the preaching, we respond to God in spirit and truth. We remember who God is and who we are in Christ: we are forgiven; we are loved; we are gifted; and we are called. Then we are blessed as we go back out into the world to get to work, building the Kingdom of God.

You see, Christ is here among us, feeding us, just as surely as he broke bread and roasted the fish for Peter that morning on the shore.  God is here among us, reminding us that we are part of the great story of redemption that continues through to this day. The Holy Spirit is here within us, opening our hearts to God’s call and empowering us to arise, go, and love.

This is what Paul wanted the Ephesians to embrace as he wrote that we are God’s workmanship, having been created in Christ Jesus for good works that God prepared beforehand so we may do them.

We’ve all got work to do.  Good work.  It’s what we were made for.

Thoughts from the side chair, Simon Sez edition April 22, 2012

It was a good day to be in worship… the music was incredible.  The handbell choir celebrated 25 years with 3 different pieces, including an anthem version of Holy Holy Holy with the choir, organ and piano that was just off the charts excellent.  It moved me to tears.

The kiddos from the childcare center contributed a song – “I am a promise; I am a possibility…” So cute and very well done.  And drew in probably a hundred or so folks that we don’t always have in worship, since many of their families worship elsewhere (or don’t normally attend a church).

All of which made me feel like a deluxe goob when I managed to bungle the stand up-sit down thing AGAIN.  As if I hadn’t learned from my first Simon Says debacle.

I mean how hard is it to remember to wait for the Doxology after the assurance of pardon?  Not that hard.  Unless you’re thinking a step ahead and deciding between “please be seated” and “you may be seated” by considering which is more inviting for people who aren’t usually there and then suddenly hear yourself saying “please be seated” out loud just as the introductory chords come out of the organ.  Really?  no.  Really?

So… it was the “Or stay standing, please” while smiling and hoping that the red-o-meter doesn’t crack while measuring just how embarrassed I was.  “…..Aaaahhh-menn.  Now, really, please feel free to sit down.”  Warm laughter abounds.  I must say, at least this time I felt loved, not just embarrassed.  That says a lot about how my relationship with this congregation has changed since Christmas- for the better.

Afterward, over punch & cookies, one of the women in my PW circle said, “I’m glad you goofed.  It lets everyone else see what we know… that you’re funny and confident and not perfect.  That you’re just like the rest of us.”    Oh, if she only knew.

I did take it as a compliment (albeit a bit odd) that she wanted others to experience what she knows after spending time with me in a more informal setting.   It’s probably worth tucking that away in the memory banks… how much do leaders benefit from being willing and able to laugh at themselves once in a while? Especially when it means acknowledging a mistake?

Octagonal Peg, Round Hole April 21, 2012

There are days I feel more like a triangle or square, so very out of place.  Other times, I am able to squeeze my octagonal self into the circular hole.  You can’t really tell from a distance, especially if you squint or just glance my way.  But if you look closely, the sides are flat and there are gaps between the places with the edges meet the walls.  I am not quite there.

This week, I managed to blunder into conversations around politics, the role of women in the church and the “homosexual agenda”*  Sometimes I forget which world I living in, since I straddle and/or travel between two or three in any given day.  That sounds odd, I suppose.  Perhaps even duplicitous.  But the reality is that I really am octagonal.  There are many places where my faith and the way I live it out is right in alignment with the people I work with.  But there are also places we are far enough apart that I need to “mind the gap” as the London Tube announcer says.

Today it is the lovely remembrances of Chuck Colson I see on facebook. He is among those people that I just have to feel ambivalent about.  I trust that he had a real faith and deep conversion; I don’t have a problem with him having left his past behind in that regard.  But I never could get behind Colson 100%, given the time he spent belittling some while offering grace to others. Like his kindred spirits at the “Family”-named ministries, he had a tendency to quote specious research and use hurtful, if not hateful, speech toward sexual minorities.

I pray for his family and those who found his ministry and leadership inspiring.  May they grieve well and trust that God has embraced Chuck as a beloved child.  I also trust that God has had (or will- that whole timing thing is a mystery) a word or two with him about loving *all* God’s children well.**

*you know, the agenda in which LGBTQ people are able to live their lives, express their faith and serve God freely and on equal footing with everyone else.  Kind of like the women’s agenda.  But that’s a post for another day.

**and yes, I see the irony here.  I too am guilty of being slow to love (or at least allow God’s love to flow through me toward) some people.  

Corrupt happens April 20, 2012

To good files. And to good people.

It makes me sad to read about the scandal Aubry McLendon has created for himself (details here). With all the banking and other corporate shenanigans I’ve read or heard about in the last several years, I didn’t know anyone involved. Until now.

Not that I knew Aubrey, but I met him and knew a lot of folks who worked closely with him when I was working at the field office for Chesapeake about 16 years ago.  He seemed like a pretty straight up, if driven, guy. He hired people who had integrity, and he expected good, hard, honest work from the people responsible for drilling and production.

I was part of a team of administrative office types who checked and rechecked reports, invoices and other documents for accuracy. We were never encouraged to “fudge” things.  I haven’t been in touch with folks there since we were in town about 12 years ago to visit. When I think about the company, I think about the earnest, hardworking people who taught me the jargon I needed to make sense of the oil business, who made it their business to assure that the company was successful by spending wisely. I can only imagine how they must feel.

For me, it is an unsettling reminder that we are living in a broken world where no one is immune to the lure of security in the form of wealth. Even those who stand and affirm their faith in the One who taught us to give it all away.  It makes me ask myself- to what am I turning for security?  Whose good am I sacrificing to feel good about my future? What am I allowing to creep in and corrupt my love of God and neighbor? Do I have people in my life who are invested enough to bring me to account?

A few random observations April 20, 2012

No time to really flesh out any of these… But they have been on my mind. Maybe getting them here will let me move on to the stuff I need to write!

Driving on a road that is FINALLY finished and repaved is like climbing into a bed with new or freshly cleaned sheets. Ahhhhh

Sometimes things are harder than they ought to be- like companies that don’t provide phone contacts but make their web communication a nightmare. Or the pharmacy wanting a fax from the doc when the doc won’t send without a fax from the pharmacy. Really. On 3, go fax yourselves.

I find it curious that people who can’t be bothered to show up at a series of meetings during planning and development phases of a project want to have control over the final product as it nears completion.

Babies have a way of melting my heart- kittens and cats, not so much. I think my Internet experience suffers as a result.

My child has a flair for dramatic storytelling and a twisted sense of humor that makes recaps of dentist, doctor and other visits quite exciting.

Of all the people I hear interviewed, the ones I most long to be when I grow up are the poets. I want to tell stories and paint pictures and evoke memories… With a handful of words and seemingly no effort. Perhaps someday…

A prayer for today April 15, 2012

 

Lord,

In your love, you reach out to us before we can even begin to understand who you are.  In your mercy, you offer your grace before we clean ourselves up and get our act together. In your kindness, you provide for us all that we need, sometimes directly, sometimes through family and friends, sometimes through complete strangers.

Give us eyes to see and hearts to embrace your love, mercy and kindness. When we look beyond the clutter and noise clamoring  for our attention every minute of the day, we see the needs that must break your heart each day…

The children who go home to empty houses and empty pantries,

The sick and dying that no one comes to sit with,

The neighbors whose lives are crumbling around them, too ashamed to ask for help,

If we listen, we can hear their stories, hear that they are longing for comfort and connection with you.

Send your Spirit, Lord.  Fill our hearts with the same compassion that filled the heart of your Son.  With Christ at the head, let us be the body that you have called us to be – serving, loving, making disciples, carrying the light of your love to the world.

As we lift up the names of those on the hearts of our community today, give us a desire to lift petitions for others and for our world throughout the day and throughout the week.

Today, we ask that you would be present in the Midwest, where tornados have destroyed homes and livelihoods, and wherever the next storms appear.  And in Malaysia, Mexico and other places where earthquakes shook up people’s lives and their possessions.

Be with the first responders and with those who are traveling to do the work of rebuilding in the coming months, weeks and years.  Guide us, your people, to the places our resources, abilities, gifts and passions can make a difference in the lives of those in greatest need.

Truly there are as many needs and concerns among us and around us as there are stars in the sky.  And, if we’re honest, there are at least that many reasons to stop and say thank you to you, and celebrate the many prayers that you answer.

In this Eastertide, we especially want to give thanks for Jesus and all that his life, ministry, death, resurrection and ascension mean to us today and everyday.

 

 

Taxonomy of Students April 12, 2012

That probably sounds more scientific than I can back up. But- having spent about 1/3 of my life as a student and another good chunk teaching, I feel like I can at least toss out this little list for some peer review.

Over-achieving Honors Student – characterized by perfectionism, turning in assignments on time or early, keeping test papers until required to turn them in, difficult dealing with grades below A.

Honors Student – likes very specific directions, which are followed to the letter.  Prefers not to work in groups. Is likely to contact instructor regularly for clarification.

Hardworking Student – pays attention, may not possess the strongest in skills, but makes up for it with hard work. Can be counted on 85-90W% of the time to have make a good attempt when called on in class.

Average Student- not stellar, not awful.  Works hard, but is also interested in having fun. May be involved in extra-curriculars and social scene.  A pleasure to teach most days.

Frustrated Student- not naturally gifted, often with undiagnosed disability.  Works hard most of the time, but just can’t get it.  Will avoid answering in class for fear of getting the answer incorrect.  Contacts instructor often for clarity at first, but is afraid of becoming a burden.  May give up at some point and be mistaken for a slacker.

Slacker – Often a gifted student, perhaps a frustrated perfectionist. Prefers to do as little work as possible, Gets by on natural ability most of the time, being careful not enough to shine and draw attention to potential. The rest of the time?  Who cares.

Broad categories, I know.  But pretty accurate and fairly comprehensive.

The other day, though, I realized that I fell into an odd category.  I like to pretend I am a slacker.  But even in the class that I need to “just pass” and get out, I end up way overshooting and earning an A on my first paper.   I think perhaps I am a paradoxical hybrid – the overachieving slacker.

Who will roll away the stone for us? April 9, 2012

Mark 16:1 When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought aromatic spices1 so that they might go and anoint him. 2 And very early on the first day of the week, at sunrise, they went to the tomb. 3 They had been asking each other, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?”

Who will roll away the stone for us?

They must have been chatting since this time they rose- well before dawn- to gather their cloaks and the spices they needed. Not the excited chatter they had known on other mornings, the mornings after Jesus had healed lepers or that poor woman who had been bleeding for years. Not the snappy sort of chatter that comes when the resources and hands are too few to care for the many who have gathered. No, they would have been talking somberly, perhaps between silent tears about the work of the day. Of course, this detail would have come up in conversation: Who will roll away the stone for us?

That big heavy stone was meant to keep away any mischief makers. Those among Jesus’ followers who might try to convince others that the prophecy was true- that Jesus would rise from the dead- by removing and hiding his body away somewhere. Or a naysayer who might do the same, but to mock the believers who would be gullible enough to think… well…

Peter hadn’t shown up last night. Nor had Judas. The rest of the men just didn’t seem to be themselves. Even Mary’s James and John, the sons of thunder, seemed to be at a loss for what to do next. Perhaps the Roman soldiers who had been assigned guard duty would have pity on them. All they wanted to do was give Jesus a proper burial, the service they were unable to offer him because of the Sabbath observance. I wonder if they noticed the irony. So often, the work Jesus did to restore people to life in the community, he did on the Sabbath.

⁴ But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. ⁵ As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.

Of all the things these women expected, this was not among them. Where was the stone? More importantly, where was Jesus? They had come steeled for the pain of grief, sorrow, and loss. They would not have been strangers to death, these women; they knew what it smelled and felt like. But death was gone. Jesus was gone. In their place, a man in white.

⁶ “Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. ⁷But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’”

⁸ Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.^[a]

Sorrow, grief and resignation gives way to fear. Did they shake their heads, closing their eyes, only to open them once again to this unexpected new reality? How long did it take for fear to settle into confusion then cautious optimism, then hope that became joy.

The stone was gone. Death was gone. Jesus was on the loose.

And isn’t that just like Jesus.

 

I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the Easter story. But for some reason, this was the part that jumped out at me. I guess it’s one of those little throwaway details that disappears in the hallehujahs, “indeeds” and anthems on the day.

But this time I heard it, and seriously – isn’t that just like Jesus? Doing just what he promised. And isn’t that just like humanity? Not really hearing what Jesus said. Not really understanding what Jesus is doing.

It makes me wonder what stones I am worried about that God’s already moved. What deaths do we mourn that are simply precursors to new life?  What aspects of our hearts, our lives, our world are ready for us to engage them with joy and energy… while we continue mourning our loss, denying our connection to the mess or just looking for someone smart enough and strong enough to move a stone that’s already gone.

He is risen. He has redeemed all those things we have buried. The stone is moved. Jesus has a head start, and if we’re going to catch up we need to drop our burial spices, hike up our robes and get moving!

* passages from the NIV on BibleGateway