A List of Things I Wish They Had Taught Me in Seminary

An episcopal priest who works in the same building as me has often joked that we should start a Post-Seminry Degree Program (for-profit, of course) called, "Everything You Wished You'd Learned in Seminary." What better opportunity than my sort-of belated but also almost two year anniversary for a little glimpse into that endeavor?

Courses to Include: 
Stewardship 1: How to get people to give you money.
Stewardship 2: How to get foundations to give you money.
Stewardship 3: How to get the government to give you money.
Building Management 101: Plumbing, Electrical, Heat
Building Management 102: Roofing, Flooring, Interior/Exterior
Combatting Sinfulness and Gluttony: How Not to Get Sued
Real Skillz Workshop: How to do a funeral. 
Real Skillz Workshop 2: How not to hate everyone at a wedding rehearsal.
Nonviolent Communication: How to avoid attending meetings I don't want to attend.
P90X for Congregations: How to Make Your Church Grow!
Institutional Strategy 1: How to affirm people while dismissing their ridiculous ideas.
Delegating 101: How to assure you'll never have to give a children's sermon again. 
Forgiveness Practicum: Why did my seminary teach me about Irenaus and not about any of this other stuff?
Fire Gel, Flying Doves, and Paper Cranes: Liturgical Toys to Keep Your Worship Interesting!
Djembe Playing for Beginners

I could go on and on.........

Two Down.....

One of my favorites: Laying on of hands during my ordination service in 2009.

About two weeks ago, I celebrated the second anniversary of my ordination to the ministry. About two weeks from now, I will observe the second anniversary of my first day on the job as a minister.* So, it seems a sensible interval to stop and ask myself what on earth I have been doing.

My Pastoral Record book tells me that I have given about 70 sermons, made approximately 238 pastoral visits, and presided over communion about 50 times. I have organized 3 funerals, participated in 2 baptisms and officiated at 8 weddings. I have helped welcome 7 new members and ordained 7 officers. I have moderated a dozen session meetings, led bible study about 63 times, created 2 annual budgets and sent approximately 3,000 emails. 

I have orchestrated two stewardship drives and one capital campaign. I helped to facilitate one sanctuary renovation, including the coordination of 2 committees, 3 carpenters, 5 painters, 6 carpet installers and 29 community conversations about what color the walls should be. I have helped dispose of 50 pews and paid for the 80 chairs that would replace them twice: once to the company that stole our deposit money and went out of business and once to the company who actually delivered chairs to us. This also means that I have made 749 calls to Church Chair Industries, 3 calls to Jerry Boyd at the Floyd County Sheriff's department in Rome Georgia and 2 to the Clerk of the United States Bankruptcy Court of North Georgia.

I have consumed upwards of 193 cups of coffee and ordered about 28 pizzas. I watched out my window as 6 tomato plants have grown and flourished and witnessed just as many pepper plants whither in the sun when our volunteer watering brigade failed to materialize. I saw 96 Easter eggs hid, almost all of which have been found.

I walked down the main street in our town with a live donkey twice. I responded to the church getting sued, the basement being flooded with sewage and trees falling on the roof. I burned 900 tea-light candles, sung 548 rounds of Taize songs and washed 9 pairs of feet.


In each of these distinct moments it was easy to forget that I was living out the promises I made on my ordination day. As I slogged through sewage and received summons from the Sheriff and screamed at Church Chair employees and wasted away in meetings that went late into the night, I didn't always feel as though I was being guided by our scriptures and confessions, or furthering the peace, unity and purity of the church or working for the reconciliation of the world.  It was easy to forget what I was doing and the larger purpose behind it. But luckily, there were many instances in which God and others helped me to remember. Such as every time someone said thank you unexpectedly, or told me they were praying for me unsolicited, or called me "Pastor" and reminded me of who I was supposed to be.

If I had to name a theme that encompasses these two years, it would be, without a doubt, humility. I set out on that ordination day a sense of inflated potential. And while I have fulfilled some of that, I have also realized how much I am unable to do alone. Because despite all the things I've done, the one thing I have not done is save the church. I think I have learned that I can't do that. We are still small, still struggling and still relatively insignificant except for in our little corner of the world. And God has taught me to feel humble about this. And taught me that salvation is God's department. While mine is to mop and pray and not to forget the grape juice.

Though I spend an exorbitant amount of time wondering what is ahead (for me, for the church, for ministry), I have come to the conclusion that I hope the next two years involves less time obesssing about these things. I've recently been reading "An Altar in the World," by one of my favorites (certainly one of the greats!), Barbara Brown Taylor. This morning, serendipitously, I finished her chapter on vocation entitled, "The Practice of Living with Purpose." In it she discusses the challenges of living with a purpose and working with a purpose. In a section in which she discusses the significant implications of the Christian belief incarnation, she writes of the wisdom of sometimes doing and not just thinking. So let me sign off with some of her words:

Jesus clearly thought this was the best plan....With all kinds of opportunities to tell people what to think, he told them what to do instead.  Wash feet. Give your stuff away. Share your food. Favor reprobates.  Pray for those who are out to get you.  Be the first to say, "I'm sorry." 

*Which means, church types, if you are reading this, which I don't think you are: you are supposed to be getting me a gift made from cotton, I believe.

Two Wheeled Ticket to Happiness

My new best friend.

"What's the you say? You were outside biking and not blogging? But, L, I thought you HATED biking, as in despise, detest, loathe, abhor. I thought you NEVER wanted to get on a bike EVER again?!??"

And to that I say, "Yes. And I was wrong. Just as I have been wrong about so many things: about how the fashions of the 80s were flattering on me, about how to make a vodka-watermelon, about how deep-fried ice-cream wasn't really fried, about how burning tiki torch fuel indoors would create carbon monoxide. But now I'm going to make it right."

But first, the back story: As a child (you'll be surprised to know), I did a lot of biking. It was my parents' transportation method of choice to get us around the city in which I grew up, and so I biked to school and church and the park...first in a bike seat on my parents' bikes* and then on my own. But upon moving to the top of a mountain in Oregon in fifth grade, biking was excised from my life for the simple reason that one would have to be in Marathonn shape to bike anywhere from my home or back to it. So I gave up on it for the better part of a decade. And anyone who says "It's just like riding a bike" in reference to the ease of reclaiming a sport that one has neglected for the better part of one's life can shove it where the sun don't shine. My several attempts to re-enter the cycling world several years ago ended in disaster, thwarted mostly by my bad attitude and being really, REALLY out of shape. And then I moved to Boston where biking is an extreme sport the side effect of which can be death, given that not only it is the least bike friendly city on the planet (it just installed it's first ever bike lane....which runs for one mile) BUT it is also home to all of the world's worst, most aggressive drivers.

But last month, serendipity (or providence?) intervened. First, some good friends from Oregon (SB and WEB3) told me that they had just gotten super into cycling. These are people who I really like and who like many of the things that I like (jukeboxes, beer, my husband)....and now BIKING. But I hate biking, I thought, and dismissed it.  Until the very next week, when a woman who recently began attending our congregation happened to mention to me that she was super into biking, had biked 160 miles last year and had never found another exercise that she loved so much. Strange, I though, so many bikers in my life right now. And THEN, our ex-neighbor stopped by the other night and mentioned that she was excited for biking season to begin, because "isn't that cheese shop you can bike to in Concord so amazing?" Wait a minute, BIKING AND CHEESE? Worlds colliding. And that was it. I couldn't resist the pull of the universe.

And I got a bike.

And I went for a ride.

And it was pretty darn awesome.

Mostly because it was so much better than running, which I have always found to be a torturous experiment in pain and self-hatred.** But BIKING is awesome. Because you are covering so much ground, so fast that it never gets boring, and you are whizzing past all the panting, sweaty, red-faced joggers and thinking "SO LONG SUCKAS!" which is a great feeling.

In fact, the first ride I went 8 miles. And the second ride, I went 11. And the third, 18. And the fourth, 21. And the fifth 38 (although that almost ended in tragedy, but more on that to come). And I never even found that cheese shop. I'll update you more as I go, but for now, thanks to SB, WEB3, church lady, SM and the universe for a new-found passion.*** In the words of that woman who was in the Montgomery Bus Boycott, though slightly adapted of course, "My butt is sore, but my soul is at rest!"



*There was a photograph of me in the Village Voice as a toddler completely asleep in my bike seat, with my mom, riding down 5th Avenue. Little did I know then, this would only be the beginning of my fame and fortune....
**Runners: Please stop being that person who says, "Oh, you'll just get so addicted to running once you get into it. I started running and now I can't go a day without it" No, I won't. I've been running. And all I want to do when I go running is to stop running. And never do it again. All I can think of, in fact, while running, is how awful it is and how I want to stop. RIGHT NOW. Addiction my A*%.
***Does anyone worry that I am a serial hobbyist? Do you think there are therapy groups that can help you become a hobby monogamist?

MIA

Where have I been lately? Well, I've been in a wonderful and far-away place called "Outside." For those of you from more moderate climates, there exists something here in New England called "Winter." For those unfamiliar, this is basically a six-month long period in which it is so cold outside that you consider being infused with bear hormones so that hybernation becomes possible, but, as an alternative, you are tempted to eat nothing but cheese, drink nothing but alcohol, and do nothing but watch sad movies and blog. Here is a metaphor for what winter feels like:

Unfortunately, long after the snow is gone, winter continues. Skies are clear, but temperatures continue in the 30s and 40s for about two months, though after a single day at 52, sundresses and sandals abound among the inappropriately optimistic. Fortunately, just about the moment when all hope is lost comes the beloved gift we call "Spring." Spring in New England is beautiful: sunny, warm, low-humidity, flowers, graduations, fro-yo. Perfect. Unfortunately, it only lasts for about 3 days. And of course, these aren't three days in a row, but rather three days scattered here and there, admist dips into 40s and spikes into the 90s that make you feel as though you're on some sort of meterological roller coaster. Despite all this, I was able to take advantage of those three days: biking, hiking, walking the dog....which is why I've been MIA. Yay!

Here is a pic of The Beloved and I canoeing up the Concord River to the Concord Battlefield a few springs ago....One if by land, two if by....Canoe!

Luckily for you, summer will arrive in a few days. It will be 99 outside with about a billion percent humidity for the next two months. So I'll be driven back indoors and into the blogosphere. (Also, I just found out that my friend DRJ's dad who is awesome reads this blog, so I had to get back on track!)