So, this Friday is kinda a big deal. I will be meeting with my candidacy committee and we’ll be talking about my approval for ordination – a conversation which should end with me receiving said approval, but still – it’s a Big Conversation.

And, right on cue, I’ve had so many things trying to distract me this week from preparing myself mentally, emotionally, and spiritually from this Big Conversation.

Some would say it’s the Devil trying to change my focus – I’m not really convinced of that. But I am convinced that my own flesh sometimes conspires against me to create distractions OR make a molehill of a distraction into a mountain. Suddenly, I’m focused on climbing this Other Mountain Over Here, rather than focusing on preparation for a Big Conversation.

It’s really Romans 7:15-25a all over again:

“I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.

Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh.

I can will what is right, but I cannot do it.

For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand.

For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.

Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! “

Thank God for the last verse which reminds us that yes, we are wretched, yes, we often do what we know we shouldn’t (or focus on the wrong thing) but that in spite of this sin, Jesus has rescued us. The sin is there – present – dragging us this way and that – but we have faith that the grace of God has overcome all that because of God’s great love for us.

What is at war within you today? Where is there peace?

]]> http://smilingkj.wordpress.com/2009/11/04/the-distractions-abound/feed/ 0 smilingkj http://smilingkj.wordpress.com/2009/11/02/for-all-the-saints/ http://smilingkj.wordpress.com/2009/11/02/for-all-the-saints/#comments Mon, 02 Nov 2009 17:19:18 +0000 smilingkj http://smilingkj.wordpress.com/?p=128 ]]>

Yesterday was All Saints’ Day – one of my favorites. We take time in our service to remember those who have died in the past year – and in our current congregation, as the list of names is read, a bell tolls between each name. There is something beautiful about this practice to me, especially since our church building sits (now) surrounded by suburbia – homes filled with people who may be used to the bell ringing to start each service, but I always envision someone sitting in their breakfast room, thinking, “Why is the bell ringing again?” (Maybe they are grumpy about it, but my answer to that is – if you don’t like hearing church bells, then don’t buy a house within earshot of an old church!)

Back to my point – the necrology (list of names of the recently deceased) is read and there are always names which I don’t recognize on the list – and that’s OK. Each name is treasured, or has been treasured, by someone. And, if nothing else, these people are in the very care of God, who loves them. The true joy of All Saints’ Day is remembering the promises of God anew each year – promises as they are connected to life and death, and death and resurrection.

Last night, I was feeling the losses in my life strongly – which often happens on All Saints’ Day. I sat down with my journal and began to write and pray, and as I wrote I came up with a necrology all my own of my losses (not all are recent). Writing the names, I had many memories come to me of each – and why they were precious to me. Some were family members, some were parishioners, some were pets. There was great joy in remembering these dear people and animals – great joy in realizing that our lives intersected for a time – great joy in realizing (again) how amazingly blessed I feel by my life.

Remembering, remembering, remembering…so important. So painful at times. So joyful at times. So much a part of being truly and deeply human.

Who are you remembering now?

+ + +

Last weekend, we buried my grandmother’s remains. She died in March, but because the family plot is so far from where we all live, we waited until a time when the most people would be available to come to the service. My aunt planned a small-ish graveside service at the church cemetery where my dad’s and grandfather’s remains are also.

Every time I return to this cemetery, I am almost overwhelmed by its beauty. There are no headstones – only flat markers. A large cross stands near our family’s plot, and a huge tree stands guard directly overhead…its roots are pushing Dad’s grave marker up year by year.

To be at the cemetery in the Fall was a first for me. The colors on the trees were all around us – and they enveloped us with their vibrancy. A rainstorm threatened – but the rain ended as we gathered around the grave and started again as we left to head indoors. I forgot to bring a kleenex – and the wind dried my tears.

As we went through the service, the minister read the Gospel lesson for the day – John 11:17-27 – the story of Jesus coming to see Mary and Martha after their brother, Lazarus, has died. The resurrection language is apparent – but what got me – what absolutely choked me with tears to the point where I almost couldn’t breathe – was, “…if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

As I heard these words, I was standing between my dad’s younger brother, and my dad’s grave.

“…if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

The words resonated in me, again and again.

I’ll be honest – sometimes the stories of healing in the Gospels really piss me off. I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to figure out why Jesus healed so many in the Gospels and didn’t heal my dad. Later, I asked the same questions when my mom got sick and died. Really, this comes back to a basic human question – “WHY?”

I have to be honest – I don’t know. I don’t know why my dad died at age 29 and my mom at age 60.  I don’t know why anyone dies, really, no matter what their age. I don’t know why some people suffer and some people die peacefully. There are some deaths which seem to make more sense than others, but I don’t even completely understand why that is. And sometimes, I just have to dwell with those very painful questions for a while, even as I know that I won’t find complete answers.

And in the dwelling with all these questions, there is tremendous learning. There is learning and growth, and somehow out of this, the Holy Spirit plants faith and hope, and soon, the questions matter less than they once did. Time heals the wounds.

There is lots of NEW going on right now. I’m still getting to know people’s names as I have transferred to a NEW seminary. I knew these people from afar before, and so now there is the getting-acquainted period of testing boundaries with one another – what does so-and-so find funny, and what is truly, deeply offensive to them? There are jokes between people which I don’t get, but that’s OK, since it’s all still NEW.

More NEW stuff – my schedule is so different. These 8am classes are an adjustment, not because I can’t function then, but because I’m such a night person, it is hard for me to wind down in the evenings in order to get to bed at a decent hour so that I can function. However, I will say that on three days a week, I’m done with class by 9:15 and there is a joy and freedom in that to me.

Ah, the OLD…this campus is OLD to me. I loved it as a child and I love it still – the trees, the natural beauty – but also – the odd-shaped chapel meant to resemble a tabernacle tent, with the cross outside the walls. The many sidewalks which seem to follow organic pathways of where people cut across the grassy hillsides at some point long ago. The collected wisdom within the walls of the library (where I am now sitting).

Did you know you can reserve study carrels? I remember this from childhood. As a child, as now, I LOVED libraries. I remember coming to this one with my mother, and seeing the seminarians in their study carrels, working away. The idea of having a piece of the library all to yourself was amazing to me! And now, here I am, with my own piece of the library.

More OLD – grief. Yes, it is still there – less now than before, though, which is liberating. It liberates me to focus on the griefs of now – the griefs of my friends as they face health crises – in their families and in their own bodies. The OLD question of Martin Luther resonates in these griefs – “What does this mean?” In other words – what do I do with this? What is God teaching me? What do I do…period? How do I live with this? We are grown-ups now, aren’t we?

Somehow, the NEW and OLD coexist. It’s kinda like the CDs in my car – I have Bach next to Simon and Garfunkel next to 14th Century pilgrimage music next to U2 – in other words, I have what I love and what is meaningful. In life, I don’t love every memory – some are deeply painful and some challenge my spirit to its breaking point.

But what I do love is that my life is very full. I am surrounded by beauty – I was reminded of that this morning during my drive in. I looked over to the eastern sky and it was aglow with the sunrise coming through the thin clouds, and the resurrection music of Bach rang in my ears and my heart. I am surrounded by people who love me, and people whom I can love daily. I am surrounded by challenges which draw me alternately inward and outward – inward, to learn and grow – outward, to help and care.

For what are you deeply grateful today? What is challenging you to grow, to learn, to stretch?

It seems to me that lots of people want to know more about the Bible without actually having to read the Bible for themselves. They may read the “important parts” – maybe the sexy stories involving the cool characters like David and Bathsheba, or the parts which ring most true to them, such as the psalms of lament, or passages which talk about walking with Christ.

But what about all those other parts? What about the idea of sitting down, starting at one end, and reading through to the other end, with no other purpose than just to read the Bible?

I’ve heard people speak disparagingly of this idea – as if getting bogged down in Leviticus is just bound to happen. I guess I’m of the mindset that it’s OK to get bogged down in Leviticus (or Numbers, or…) because part of our journey as Christians is what we do with our bogged-downedness. I mean, come on – if you get bogged down somewhere in Scripture, you can slog through the mire or you can give up. Or – here’s a thought – you can approach the text with a prayer of – “Lord, I don’t understand this at all. Give me wisdom.” And then, with a persevering spirit, you can keep on chugging through all those lists of people and laws. (This mirrors life – how do we deal with obstacles in life?)

The thing is, we don’t just have Scripture for one reason. We have different parts of Scripture to teach us different things. Let’s be honest here – some parts are easier to read than others. Some are more interesting, more poetic, more meaningful. Some speak into our hearts differently than others.

But I really do think that if we are going to talk about knowing the Bible, we need to read the Bible – not because we have to, but because the Bible connects us to other people of God of many different times and places. The Bible gives us stories of their lives, insights into their character, and – in some cases – the consequences of their decisions. What can we learn from them?

I recently began reading my Bible from cover to cover once again. I’m still in the stories of Genesis – the joys and sorrows of the matriarchs and patriarchs. I love reading about their lives because it gives me a sense of connectedness – a sense of being a part of something bigger than my here-and-now. I also love reading about them because they are so very human – so very flawed – and yet so very aware of God being in a place with them. It spurs me to ask the question of myself – “Do you know where God is in this place?”

The Bible connects us to the heart and mind of God. God doesn’t address every last little issue in Scripture and that’s OK. But the Bible gives us a place to begin conversations about how God feels about His people – how God loves His people. It’s reassuring. It offers hope. It offers peace. Not in a print-this-on-a-greeting-card way, but – if we are open to it – it speaks the peace of God into our very souls.

What might God be saying to you?

I began seminary in 2003 with full intentions of graduating in the class of 2007. However, life intervened, so I took a few years to go to school part time and work full time. In the Fall of 2007, I returned to classes full time and with a completely different group of people, many of whom I had met – none of whom I knew well. I was nervous.

I remember calling my best friend, who is now a mom, because I needed not only a best-friend-pick-me-up, but also a mom-pick-me-up. It seems like moms have this way of understanding why, at age 34, someone would be nervous about the first day of school, and – as I believed – she did understand. She then proceeded to tell me all the things which moms say to their kids to ratchet down the anxiety of a new experience: You’ll be fine. By the end of the first day, it’ll be like you’ve known them forever. Etc. And do you know - she was right?

I write all this today because tomorrow, I’m Back To School again. It’s been a year that I’ve been on internship – working as a professional in the Church, writing and preaching sermons, visiting folks, attending lots of meetings, leading worship.

And, here I am, having Back-to-School jitters, once again, now at age 36. I’ll be with yet another new group of people – some of whom I know well and some of whom I don’t. I’ll be a little fish in a big pond in terms of denomination, and I’ll be a big fish in a little pond in terms of looking ahead to a May graduation. It will be a year of learning academically but also waiting, waiting, waiting, as I fill out paperwork for First Call. I’ll be interviewed by faculty members, my candidacy committee, and – hopefully – a congregation who wants to call me as their pastor.

Gee, why be nervous?

Here are my ideas on surviving Back To School:

Keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Be friendly.

Be yourself.

Realize that you’re going to feel like you’re outside of your comfort zone at times. Realize this is how we grow.

And finally -  think about why God has placed you in this place at this time. What can you learn? What can you teach others? To what is God calling you – here and now?

My Granny died last week, and, though she hasn’t really been herself for a few years, I miss her greatly. She had a great spirit – “great” in the sense of wonderful, and “great” in the sense of larger-than-life.

I returned last night from spending several days with my family. We are not having a service for Granny right away, and so, to parent-less me, connecting with my aunt and uncle and cousins was an important piece of what we like to call “closure” (though I view that word with suspicion). I’ve said many times to many people that funerals and memorial services are “for the living” and the lack of an immediate memorial service for Granny is bringing that home for me more than ever.

Services can be important from a ritual standpoint, but also from the standpoint of gathering people together. I have a picture of my family gathered for my grandfather’s memorial service – a huge group of a winding family tree – lots of cousins once-removed and all that. And we’re smiling widely – smiling, in spite of the pain of grief.

So this past weekend, when my aunt and I were going through boxes of photos and letters and other stuff, we found ourselves laughing about lots of it…especially letters which Granny had saved of my father writing the family from college.  My aunt wanted me to take the three-foot tall plastic Nipper dog (of RCA fame) which we all signed when Grandpa retired from RCA – a dog which faithfully followed Granny to her last apartment. There were Nippers everywhere! (I took a smaller, bookshelf-sized Nipper.)

And I shed a few tears, too. We found pictures which I didn’t even know existed from the day I was baptized. There was artwork which I only remember hanging in my grandparents’ homes, now leaning against the walls with an uncertain future. (I claimed a piece made by a family friend.)

It is a weird mix, then, this business of saying “good-bye.” For me, there is tension between wanting to grieve alone and grieve in community. There is tension between laughing and crying. And there is tension in the loving people (and the occasional dog) so much, and knowing that one of us will be saying “good-bye” to the other at some point.

Granny didn’t like to say “good-bye” – she prefered a grand “To be continued…” at the end of our phone conversations. Seems like a good way to end a blog post, too…to be continued…

One of the first tasks of the Lutheran pastoral intern is to form a document which my seminary calls the “Learning Service Agreement.” Forming this document intimidated me, mainly because I knew a) I would never be able to contain all the learning that WOULD happen onto one document, and b) I also knew there was a good chance I’d never be able to complete every task I put onto the document.

Learning is a funny thing. Sometimes we learn the hard way – we touch the hot pan on the stove or we form a relationship we know we shouldn’t – and get hurt. Sometimes, we learn the easy way – we try something, it works, and – bammo! – instant learning.

But so much of life, for me, is spent in the messy place between these two realms. It’s really living a life of grace. It’s messy, but God comes to us in the mess and loves us and cares for us. And somehow, we learn.

So, here is some of what I have learned so far:

• Some people dwell in an echelon of nothing but minutia. Try to get them to see a bigger picture, and they get squiggy, defensive, or downright nasty.
• People of all ages love it when you remember their name. And women like to be complimented on their jewelry.
• Little kids like to do high-fives (or low-fives) rather than shake hands as they leave the church.
• There can be some very bigoted people sitting in the pews who feel very entitled to feel the way they do.
• Quantifying ministry is almost impossible.
• Never underestimate the impact of what you write in the newsletter.
• Think about when to talk, when to listen, when to shut up, and when to shout. (Pounding a fist on the table is optional…)
• Pray. Pray. Pray.
• Cry when you need to, or you’ll get a big fat headache. And sometimes, the headache won’t go away even after the tears are dry. (Take Tylenol, then!)
• Keep reading.
• Well-placed and/or well-timed conversations can make a huge difference.
• The congregation has a perspective of itself, and you have a perspective of the congregation. They are not always the same.
• Stay out of triangles. Apply Matthew 18 liberally as needed. It still works, even after this many years.
• Keep in communication with the leadership, which is different than sucking up to them.
• Figure out who your PR people are – and who will down-talk you, too.
• When making a home visit, if the dog wants to sit in your lap, let him/her. Remember the dog’s name, too.
• Look at photos when people have them. Listen to them talk about their families.
• Sabbath: Take time off. Be silly. Relax. Stay in your PJ’s till 4pm. Laugh with a friend. Even if you have hardly any money, go to a restaurant you love and have a cup of coffee if nothing else. Sleep. Walk. Play with the dog. Write. Lay in the hammock. Be alone if you need to, call a friend if you need to. Listen to yourself.
• Remember that the congregation has been there before you and will likely be there after you. You aren’t the be-all and end-all of the place.
• Decorate your office the way you want it, and make it hospitable to others.
• Above all, be confident that God loves you. Remember your baptism daily.

In a previous post, I mentioned my visit to the local nursing home, which happens on an alternating basis with my supervisor. One of us heads over on Thursday afternoons to lead what is optimistically called a “Bible Study” – really, it is unlike any other Bible Study I have either attended or led. I go in with nothing planned beyond a general sense of which book of the Bible I will read from that day, and sometimes that changes depending on the whims of my “students” or their “teacher.”

It is really more of an opportunity for them simply to hear the Word of God read to them. Sometimes, I add more commentary. Sometimes, the words speak for themselves and all of us seem to be lost in the beauty of the words – as we were last week as I read (again) the words of the beloved Psalm 23 (at the request of a person in the group).

I like to end with the Lord’s Prayer, said together. It gives them a grounding point, and it gives us some commonality as Christian people. Some of them say nothing throughout the entire time together, and even seem to sleep through it. But when we begin the Lord’s Prayer, some inner place is roused and they often say the words with me.

More than the reading, discussion, and prayer, though, this time together gives them a chance to be cared for by someone other than the employees – someone from the “outside” – someone who represents the Church universal.

It hit me last week as I was leaving that these people have not always been the way they are now. At some point, they lived lives very different than their lives now – they were children themselves, went to school, worked, married, had children and grandchildren, and probably in the span of their lives cared for many others. Maybe they nursed sick children or took care of a dying parent or spouse – whatever the case, surely they were caretakers themselves at some point.

And so, now it is OUR turn to care for them. Now it is OUR turn to be the caretakers – not because we know them or are related to them, but because in caring for the Other, we care for Jesus, too.

Every year at this time of year, we as a society are bombarded with commercials and print media encouraging us to buy, buy, buy. People not only want the latest thing, but they want it now, and they want it at the lowest price available.

Hence the crush of people killing a gentleman at Walmart in Long Island, which is a tragedy of huge proportions – because his death was not the result of people standing up for some great social cause, or some great religious cause, or standing against some great injustice, or standing for anything, really. His death was the direct result of human greed run horribly amok. People saw the shortest distance between them and the great bargains (hyped, of course, by the many, many commercials run by Walmart leading up to “Black Friday”) – and nothing or no one was going to get in their way.

And there are reports (though I was not there to witness this behavior) of people complaining about the store closing so the death could be investigated – though why anyone would want to shop in a store with a crushed corpse at the front is really beyond my comprehension.

The point is, human greed is with us throughout the year, but there is something about the holidays which seems to bring out the worst of it. We have created a society driven by consuming, driven by getting, driven by buying the best and latest. We have created a society which is not concerned about caring for The Other. We have created a society which ignores the love and grace and peace extended to humanity in the very first Christmas (you know, when Jesus was born?) and have replaced God’s gift with trinkets made of plastic and metal. (They are trinkets, after all – even a diamond ring which costs $45,000 will not travel with the recipient beyond the grave…)

And this is scary stuff to me as I prepare to be a pastor sometime in the future. Scary stuff because it is so counter to the message of the Gospel (= good news) of Jesus Christ, a Gospel which reaches across lines of power and wealth, a message which reaches across our trinkets and trivialities to grasp us wherever we are and hold us fast. The message of Jesus is one of God’s love and grace and peace, and this love and grace and peace are increasingly drowned out by messages of greed and selfishness and complaining.

So what am I to do about this?

I cannot change all of society.

But I can change myself, and I can influence change in the spheres of influence which God has given me. I can be the person in line who thanks the hard-working checkout person. I can be the person who holds open a door and thanks those who hold doors open for me. I can be the person who doesn’t have a lot of buying power this year (thanks to my current seminary education) but who has the power to be kind, and to show God’s love and God’s grace and God’s peace in my actions – whether those actions be in the pulpit, in the church, and at the altar, OR in the stores, on the freeways, and in my home.

I can be a blessing to The Other.