Warning: Career Choice Can Be Fatal

Bad news: I just found out that being a pastor may kill me. Not like existentially, but literally: A study was just released that found that pastors, on the whole, are much more likely than their non-clergy peers to experience obesity, hypertension and depression. The study links thes trends to the overall stress of the job as well as working too much. To which I say: Duh. Any job that asks you to go out to coffee 7 times a day and also demands that you be consistently emotionally balanced, available for emergencies at a moment's notice, spiritually grounded at all times and proficient in a variety of areas including preaching, teaching, plumbing, social work, crisis intervention, mediation, photo-copier repair, financial management, interior design, non-profit administration, singing, institutional change and food preparation, is bound to drive you nuts. And certainly into the cookie jar (or the wine rack) much too often.

Now I have said before, on this very blog, that pastoring is not difficult. And I stand by that. It's not difficult in the way that coal-mining is difficult. Or being an air traffic controller. Or a police officer.  But it is challenging in a more constant way than some other jobs. Because you're a pastor all the time. When you're at work or not, when you're awake or asleep, when you're with your church members or your friends, you're a pastor. Now this certainly doesn't mean that you act like it all the time (thank goodness!), but it certainly an identity that follows you, a reality that can get really tiring. And, as Mr.L and I were recently discussing with another couple over dinner earlier this week, the work follows you as well. It's as if the tasks of the pastoral life ooze out like some Ghostbusters-2-esque blob into all areas of your life. 

Now, many pastoral leaders these days like to talk a lot about "boundaries." "You should set boundaries," they say, "then you wouldn't have these problems." Set boundaries about how much you work and when and who can call and on what number and so on and so on and so on.  But it's more difficult than it seems. Especially when you're in a small church or one without a lot of resourced folks with other support systems around them.  For instance, it's Friday evening and you get a call that someone is in the hospital. Do you take the call? If you do, do you put your family dinner on hold and go? Or wait for the next day? What if they don't have any family or friends and they'll be alone until you come? Or let's say it's Saturday afternoon and you still haven't finished your sermon for Sunday. Do you take a break from your relaxation or house projects to finish it up? Or do you deliver the crappy half-crafted message you've got already? It's Thursday, your only day off, and you get an email from someone who is having a difficult time due to (insert emotional, financial, physical, familial or situational crisis here). Do you respond? Or wait? What if the church is flooding? Do you go? They are difficult decisions to make and ones challenged by our views of pastors and the extent of pastoral compassion.  These are real things that are happening in real people's lives. And it can be difficult to draw boundaries around that.

On top of all this, how do you stop thinking about/worrying about/problem solving all the issues of a complex organization like a church when you walk out the door? I often find that even with no one calling me, I still spend huge portions of my days off stressed out about problems happening at the church. "What are we going to do about our fundraiser if it doesn't go well?..... I hope that person I talked to on Tuesday is going to be okay....... Did I remember to email the music director the song for this week?" And so on and so on and so on.

This is still something I'm working hard to work through. And I certainly don't know what the answer is. But I want to figure it out before I wake up in 20 years, obese, hypertense and depressed. I wish they had put a warning label on my diploma......

Sabbath Remix

Just a quick note to say I'm back on the sabbath bandwagon (in case you were wondering) after a few weeks of sabbath slacking. I was doing well for a while, but lost track somewhere around week 5 and then ended up sliding down the slippery slope of "Well, just this one little work email. It's important and time sensitive." and "Of course I can meet on Friday if that's the only day you can meet." and "Well, it's not really work if I write a little of my sermon."

But I am trying to get back on track.

And I'm off to a good start. We spent a wonderful sabbath dinner last night with dear friends E&D, who, though I had not yet mentioned them in this blog, have been a huge inspiration to me in my own Sabbath practice.  They've been gracious enough to host us on countless occasions in the past few years, inviting us in for the most extravagant and scrumptious Sabbath feasts one could imagine. (My person favorite remains the gourmet tortilla soup prepared after a trip they took to Mexico during which they took a cooking class! Delicious and incredibly authentic!) The company is always just as wonderful as the fare.

So we were privileged to host them last night for peppered pecans, fall salad, pumpkin soup (served in pumpkins! Move over Martha!) and baked apples with caramel sauce (for which I forgot to set the timer and they ended up exploding and ultimately looked like a soupy mess of apple shrapnel, but they still tasted okay. Okay, Martha, you're back on.)

All this reminds me that I've come to the conclusion that cooking and eating together is an essential Sabbath discipline. There is just something powerful about putting significant effort into making a meal and then enjoying it (slowly!) with others that results in incredible community building and unparalleled relaxation. I think even the most elegant meals out cannot compare to the nourishment one can get from cooking and eating together.

So, let me say a belated Shabbat Shalom to friends near and far!

I'm Sailing Away

Did I mention that I'm taking sailing class? That's right. Sailing. Like on a boat. With sails and stuff. And no motor. Why am I doing this? You might ask. And the answer is simple: because sometimes when you are married that is what you do, you take sailing class.

When we moved to this area a few years ago, Mr. LIOLI discovered a passion for sailing. He had sailed a bit as a kid with his parents and his interest in it was rekindled when we moved so close to the water. For a few years he was a member of a non-profit community sailing operation on the river near where we live. But he had soon learned most of what he could there and it was time to move up. So he researched sailing schools on the harbor to find the best place to get experience with bigger boats and different types of cruising (such as sailing in the ocean, and at night, and in the ocean at night, etc.)  Fortunately or unfortunately for me, I'm not yet sure, he found one. And we signed up.

If you're wondering how I got involved, so am I. It turns out these dreams of sailing were not simply one of Mr.LIOLI's many serial hobbies, but something he wants to do long term. Something, he tells me, that has the potential to turn into a lifestyle (READ: a black hole into which money and time can be poured without guilt.)

I found (and find) all this rather questionable, especially since I don't particularly like boats and get fairly seasick when aboard them, a fact that I unfortunately had discovered several years ago on our honeymoon aboard a cruise ship. (Yeah, I KNOW.) Anyway, somehow this line of suspicious logic was extended to include the fact that since Mr. LIOLI and I have loose plans to be together for the long term and he plans to get into sailing for a long term,  it was important that I learn something about sailing as well. So here I find myself, in sailing class.

So far I've learned a few useful things, such as:
1. I have learned that sailing has it's own vocabulary. There are ropes (just like other ropes) but in sailing they are called sheets. And they have maps, but they're not called maps, they're called charts. And turning left is not called turning left, it's called "tacking." Turning right is called "jibing." The list goes on and on. 
2. I have learned lots of stuff about the weather that I didn't think I would ever know. Such as what low and high pressure systems mean, something I have heard on the news 2 million times and not had a clue about. (e.g. The weatherman says, while pointing at a green screen with images of swirling red or blue arrows, "We have a high pressure system moving in tonight....." Ask me later and I can explain it to you. Also, did you know that high pressure systems always move clockwise while low pressure systems always move counter-clockwise? Go figure.)
3a. I have learned that sailing in the fall in New England is not much like the Caribbean sailing that I see in the movies. There is much less sunning, no lounging around, and no mai tais. Also there is no swimming, that is unless things have gone terribly wrong. And you're not wearing a bikini...you're wearing wool socks and foul weather gear.
3b. I have learned that the reason there is so much less recreating on the sailboat in real life than there is in the movies is because sailing is actually kind of difficult. You actually have to be thinking and paying attention most of the time in order to not run aground, or tip over, or die, basically. And, unfortunately, this is not just true for the skipper. But for EVERYONE ON THE BOAT, all of whom must be paying attention and participating in sailing.
4. Lastly, I have learned (and I hope Mr. LIOLI is not reading this as I don't want to admit it to him yet) that sailing is actually kind of fun. I mean I'm not committing to it in the long term, but it's definitely growing on me.

So if you don't see as many posts recently, it's probably because I'm out on the water practicing my taks and jibes and generally feeling nauseous but having a great time. You can come down and look for me. I might look something like this:

Introducing The Love-it-or-leav-itt Correspondence School of Life Skillz

In my teaching job, we often talk about curriculum development, teaching objectives, benchmarks, etc. which are all just ways of saying, "What do we think it is important for students to learn?" But the answer to this question is always fairly nebulous and usually nothing the students end up internalizing longer than 5 minutes after the final is over. I wonder if we might ask instead, what do these students need to know? Like, for life?

Talking to my nephew this summer who is about to enter middle school, I had a flash of inspiration: let's only teach him things he absolutely needs to know! (You can think things like this when you are an aunt rather than a parent, because you have no overall responsibility for the development of the child other than periodically spoiling him or her and teaching swearwords when appropriate. It is for this reason I think it is a WAY better deal to be an aunt.) Anyhow, I mentioned to my sister and brother-in-law that I'd be happy to admit my nephew into the "Love-it-or-leav-itt" Correspondence School of Life Skillz. Though they politely declined, I kept thinking about it and came up with some of the required courses in said school:
Math for Restaurant Tipping
Slang 1: Building Social Capital
Humor 1: Jokes and Timing
Slang 2: Expletives (Pre-requisite: Slang 1)
Humor 2: Storytelling and Exaggeration
Chemistry 1: Cooking for Life: Pizza, Pasta, Tacos
Chemistry 2: Mixology (Students 21 and Over Only), BYOB
Etiquette
Physical Education: Swimming, Jogging, Biking and NOT Square Dancing
Driver's Education 1: Not Killing Others
Driver's Ed Accelerated: DE1: Not Killing Others Taught Concurrantly With: DE2: Not Being an Ass
Automechanics
Social Studies 1: How to Access Wikipedia
Constitutional Law & Good Citizenship: Why to Vote and How Not to Get Screwed by the Government
Bible 1: The Old Testament: Myth, Incest, Conquest, & Politics in Ancient Canaan
Bible 2: The New Testament: Greek Worldview, Blood Atonement Theology, Mysogony and Apocalypse

Anyway, I think I've got something here. Don't you? Who's in? Anyone have a neice or nephew we could use for a trial run?

1 Person Dis-"Likes" This

I've been thinking recently that I'm too awkward for Facebook. I know what you're going to say: "No one is too awkward for Facebook." But I am, actually.
I should tell you that I joined facebook late in life, after no longer being able to tolerate consistently being the object of comments such as:
"Did you see the picture of you that so-and-so put on Facebook? It's so cute. Ohhhh...that's right. You're not on Facebook..." Awkward silence.
or
FB User: "You didn't come to my party on Saturday." Pout-y face.
Me: "I didn't know you were having a party on Saturday."
FB User: "Umm...but I invited you."
Me: "Really? I don't remember getting an invitation."
FB User: "Yeah, I invited everyone who I'm friends with on Facebook."
Me: "But I'm not on Facebook."
FB User: "Oh. (Silence.) Awkward."

Anyway, I eventually joined and I should admit I was able to make some good connections with folks from the past (though they never went beyond the initial "Oh my GOD, how are YOU? What are you DOING?" and then "How are YOU? What are YOU doing?").  And I do periocially enjoy e-spying on the lives of friends and family who don't live locally. (For instance, I just saw a picture posted of a friend of mine in front of the Taj Mahal, which I thought was a joke, until I visited her page and found out she is actually in India right now. Go figure!)

But recently I've realized that I'm just too awkward for it all. Mostly because I become paralyzed with indecision about how to resond to most people's posts. And then I end up feeling like an awkward lurker who never responds to anything, like some loner kid in the corner of the gym at the middle-school dance not talking to anyone (was I this kid? I can't really remember, but it's possible.). Anyway, maybe I'm just too old-fashioned, but I just have no idea what to say when someone posts news of some huge life-changing event on Facebook, such as engagement, marriage, pregnancy, career change, break-ups, moves, troubling family situations, etc. As most of us (or probably more than some given my professional training), I've spent most of my life practicing how to respond to people in the real world when they tell me things like this. And I just cannot translate that into a 5 word witty comment that effectively communicates the immense (fill in empathetic emotion here) that I feel about their news. Clicking "like" never feels like an appropriately proportional response.

It's even worse when it's a close friend, because my reaction is wrapped in all the other emotions of intense curiosity, vague resentment that I wasn't told in real life, and perhaps surprise. How do I response to that in 40 characters or fewer? If I don't respond, will I be left with facing the awkwardness at some future date when I see the person again? If so, should I pretend I didn't see the news on Facebook? Or do I say "yeah, I saw that on facebook" and proceed to look like an uncaring jerk for not "commenting"?

On the other hand if I don't know the person well, I end up feeling like an intruder. Why should I be privileged with this information when I play virtually no role in this person's life? Why should I wish you a "happy birthday" (or "happy engagment" or "oh my god you had a baby" or "sorry you lost your job") when I have no other connection to you whatsoever outside the web and may never see you again. Will your life really be enhanced by my somewhat shallow and trivial well-wishes?

I realize this post is getting awkwardly long, but let me say one more thing: I think it would be helpful if Facebook would add an "acknowledge" button, similar to the "like" button. That would give me a way to say "I see this information," but not "like" it which seems much too trivial. Then in the future, I could say, "yes, I saw that!" and then proceed to communicate my empathetic reation in a proporational and appropriate way.

You see, I was right, wasn't I? I am too awkward for this.....