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!)

E-tech-itte

Courtesy of Mark Copier | The Grand Rapids Press. Found here. Is this not just a completely awesome photo?

Could someone please, please, please start a blog about technology etiquette? You could call it e-tech-itte. I would do it, but obviously I need to remain loyal to my HUGE and burdensome following here at What's Up Jesus?

But I would appreciate it if someone could take this one on, as something clearly MUST be done. Because technology misuse is ruining my life and I need a resource from this century to refer folks to who are blatantly rude without knowing it. (Sorry, Post family, I think your time has passed.)

For instance, I think we might mutually discern that it is not appropriate to text incessantly during a one-on-one conversation with someone. It makes me feel as if you aren't interested in talking to me (which in a way, you clearly aren't), so maybe we should just end the conversation. Also, texting and checking email on your phone during meetings also seems egregious except in the most urgent circumstances. Who are you? Barak Obama? No one is that important. (p.s. Lady next to me in the meeting last night, in case it was unclear, it was SUPER AWKWARD when you were obviously checking your email on your phone and then someone asked you a question related to the topic we were currently discussing and you just blabbered around and then practically yelled, "I just don't know what you're talking about." and then flipped around in your binder as if you'd just lost the page instead of been ignoring the rest of us and playing with your phone. Also, I can see that you're reading your email because I'm sitting right here and I have eyes.)

Also, we may want to make clear to the masses that if I send you an email and in it ask a question, it is clearly not just a rhetorical device. I would actually like for you to respond. Not just if you feel like it or if the answer is yes or if it's Wednesday today, but always. Even if it's just to say, "Got this. On it." (I think this is mostly a problem with younger folks, which is a strange irony in that everywhere I turn, young people are on their smart phones yet younger folks email me back WAY less frequently than their older peers. What are they doing on there if not actually responding to forms of communication?)

Additionally, let's agree that when emailing in a professional setting (at least the first email in the string), we could use the common format of greeting, message, closing, signature....and maybe even throw in punctuation and correct grammar just for fun. When emailing me to ask if I or my congregation will support your cause, post your materials, or use your product or if you are contacting me as a student to ask for an extension, extra support or my mercy, let's agree that poor grammar and text lingo is just not going to cut it. For the record, U, for instance, is a letter of the alphabet, while "You" is a pronoun used to address another party. R is another letter while "are" is a form of the verb "to be." Typically, the first word in a sentence is capitalized and special marks called commas and periods are used to break up ideas into more manageable chunks. I know, it sounds overwhelming but you will catch on.

These are just a few of my ideas, so step right up future blogger, grasp your destiny and make the world a better place.


For fun, see this page of possibly THE most ridiculous list of text acronyms ever. Can we all agree that no one in the history of the universe has used AWGTHTGTTA and meant "Are we going to have to go through this again?"

Also, did you know there are texting championships? Yeah. Dear God......

Just a quick note to say....

...who are all the commenters? I mean the THOUSANDS of people who comment on random stuff like news stories about court trials and youtube videos of cats and music videos? Seriously. Who are they? Where are they? And were do they get the time to comment on all this stuff? I watched a music video online the other day and there were something like 700 comments, about everything from previous videos by the same artist ("I liked that way betta yo!) to how one commenter's father had just passed away. What is going on?

Glad they've obviously never found THIS blog. PHEEEw.

The Veil

Harry Potter is just SUCH a good series. And has nothing to do with this post really.

Okay this is a serious one guys, that I've been thinking of for a while. (No, it's not about hijab, though that is a fascinating topic.) But you know that scene in Harry Potter: The Order of the Phoenix at the end when Sirius Black is killed by Bellatrix Lestrange ("Avada Kedavra!") and he falls through that strange, transparent curtain in the department of mysteries and disappears?  And you wonder if he's really gone or maybe not but what is that curtain and what's behind it? (In case you're wondering, yes, typing this out is making me feel as though it's more ridiculous than I was thinking it was before I started writing this.) ANYWAY, do you know the scene? Well I feel like that scene is being replicated in my life. Only the Department of Mysteries is my social group and the magical, transparent curtain is parenthood. (Avada "I'm Pregnant!")

Now before you parental types stop reading and de-friend me from Facebook, please know that I'm being serious. As I grow older and more and more of my close friends have started to have children, I've been thinking a lot about what that transition means, especially for those of us still on this side of the great divide. And it is a strange thing. Even though I have many friends who manage to balance child rearing with adult friendships, I recognize that there is something that's irrevocably changed when you have kids, not just for you but for those you're in relationship with as well.  While most of me is overcome with joy for my friends striking out on the path of parenting and legitimately hopeful for the future of their family life, there is part of me that feels differently. Perhaps it's part sadness at losing what was once an easy bond to sustain, now made more difficult by the introduction of drastic changes in the lifestyle and priorities of those around me. Perhaps it is part feeling left out, wondering what's on the other side of the veil. Perhaps it's part worrying that in resisting the pull of having children, I'm missing something profoundly valuable and that by the time I realize my desire for it, it will be too late.

The God's honest truth, though,  is that I'm not sure I want to have children. It might be that I'm just not ready yet, but it's also a serious area of discernment, something I want to take seriously knowing that not choosing is a form of choosing.  I am clear that childbearing isn't one of the deepest desires of my heart right now. And as with all things, it's hard to know if and when it will be.  One thing I do know is that I feel hesitant to give up the control (financial, spiritual, social, what have you) that I feel I have just (finally!) established over my own life. But it's painful to realize that this careful discernment might leave me unable to connect in important ways with some of my most precious friends.*

And so I wait. And I think. And I realize how much my world is changing as more evenings out end early, as more discussions at dinner are about baby swings and bottle nipples, and as the things I care about and engage with seem slightly out of joint in comparison with many of those around me.

The irony of this is that I am feeling all this as someone who (as far as I am aware having never tested it) has a choice about children.  I know many friends who, struggling with fertility challenges or sexual orientation or what have you, don't feel as though they have a choice at all and who are in great pain about how to fulfill their longing to have children. I cannot imagine the agony of navigating this stage of life with awareness of one's reproductive limitations looming overhead each time a new ultrasound photo pops up on Facebook.** And I want for those voices to be part of my world too, not just in whispered private conversations, but in a public way that is valued and acknowledged as much as we value and acknowledge announcements by those who can and do have children.

If you're wondering why I'm writing this (especially on a blog mostly reserved for cynical musings about things as trivial as Self-Check Out Stands and Dress-Me Jesus'***), it's because of this: I don't know that I have a single role model of a couple who has chosen not to have children AND publicly discussed this choice. And I could use some. Where are you? Why did you choose not to have children? What does that feel like over a lifetime? How do I talk to my friends about my decision without sounding as though I am judging theirs? How do I continue to play an informed and meaningful role in the life of children not my own?

My friend Ghandi told me to be the change I want to see. So here I am.  Because I think our culture could use some voices of all genders and generations and sexual orientations and life setting talking about what childbearing means and what not having children means at every different stage of life.

Despite my general feelings about Elizabeth Gilbert****, I did enjoy many parts of her most recent book, "Committed" which is loosely about the history of marriage. She claims that there are (and have always been) a consistent percentage of women (across history and geography) who don't have children. So I know you're out there. And I want to hear what you think! I hope more voices, on both sides of the veil, will be heard. I think we'll all be better for it, and so will our children (And of course I mean that in a "It takes a village" kind of way. But I'll let you know.)



* Though there is one resource for which I am profoundly grateful in this area. And that is my friend LKF, who, as I've previously mentioned, blogs here about the intersection of vocation and motherhood. Her honest reflections are a great gift to me and an open window in the challenges of deciding TO have children, and I am profoundly grateful for her generosity in sharing them. 
 ** Please don't post your ultrasound on Facebook. I feel awkward about seeing the inside of your uterus, especially when we're not that close of friends. I'll just take your word for it, okay?. 
***What on EARTH is the plural of Jesus?
**** Look, I know a lot of people out there really loved Eat, Pray, Love, which is fine. But seriously, E.G. I just canNOT bring myself to feel bad for you that you got divorced and then got PAID to travel around the world and find yourself afterward.