Tonight I listened as our dean of students gave a sermon about the resurrected Jesus and unfinished business. The scripture comes from Luke 24:36-49 when Jesus reappears before the disciples, and they don't believe it's him. They touch him, but still can't believe. Then Jesus asks for something to eat, and they get it. We all laughed when she said, "They remember this Jesus... the one who was always eating... Jesus wanted some fried fish and cornbread." Yes, we lauged at that one. Jesus needed to get them past the doubt so they could take care of unfinished business. They needed to go out from Jerusalem to make disciples - they needed to spread the good news.
I was all set to write a rebuttle on this topic. I wanted to say that some times things just have to be left unfinished. Not everything cleans up nicely, but that's the way it ends. Then I got a phone call from a friend. You see, things had not been smooth for a while. We had both been under pressure from different sources. There was a sense of drifting away - at least I felt it on my end. I thought that drifting away would be the start of the end... we would end with unfinished business... and then there was a phone call. Through the doubt and confusion was a call for me and to me.
There is a time and a place to finish the unfinished business. I still don't have it worked out where and when that's supposed to happen, but I know that God will guide me to getting it done right. Doubt, confusion, miscommunication leave us with a sense that it might be better to walk away from something messy instead of getting our hands dirty and seeing if we can clean it up. It would have been a mistake this time. It might have been a mistake in the past. While I won't be sitting down to fried fish with Jesus, I'm hoping he'll take me up on some fried chicken and mac & cheese so we can see what else needs to be cleaned up so the journey can continue.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Is there room at the table for me?
I have learned what happens when you begin to expect grace and not see it as a gift. The beauty of it being a gift starts to dull. I become disappointed that it doesn't happen. I'm talking about the ups and downs of Methodist candidacy. I hoped to meet with my dCOM during annual conference, as it would be the only time in the year I planned to be home, however that will not happen.
There are 13 United Methodist seminaries in existence. That means there are more people than just me who are studying in an area outside their home conference, and especially outside of their districts. While it is their choice to go to a seminary closest to home or far away, I question how much help is provided in helping them balance the requirements of academia and church.
My experience has been that dCOM only meets for one meeting during the summer. Summer is when I have the least amount of money. Seminarians are doing field education internships, CPE or working to save up money for next year. There is no access to scholarships, grants or loans, and financial assistance from the conference has never been a suggestion. This year especially, it looks like a tough summer for employment.
My other experience has been that dCOM meets when I have scheduled classes. I find it ironic that I leave important instruction to talk about what I'm learning. Professors generally excuse this absence because it is for professional reasons, but there is catching up to be done. The travel, the expense and the intellectual catch-up is exhausting.
I wish I could help dCOM, and conferences, understand that diversity in seminary education is a plus for the connexional system of the United Methodist Church. Encouraging students to attend the closest seminary so that it's easier to meet with dCOM actually breaks down the ties that bind us. We become more fragmented when we all stay close to home. We also push really great people out of serving the church because frustration levels get to a breaking point. I have seen far too many people give up on this system - people who could have transformed the local charge and the greater body.
My suggestion, should anyone wish to listen to this voice, is help us achieve. Make a little room at Annual Conference to meet with your candidates who attend far away. You don't have to get everyone that week, but look at those who have to take a train or plane to reach you, and help them out. If they can make the commitment to attend annual conference (which should offer a seminarian discount since most of us have negative income and live off loans), help them out with an hour of your time. What better way to learn about your candidate than over a meal? Jesus taught his disciples over meals all the time. United Methodists are known for the fellowship over the meal - although usually in crockpot form.
We hope we are not a burden to you - another thing to squeeze into the calender. We want to learn from you, and we seek affirmation that the gifts we see in ourselves are visible to others, especially those already within the church. We hope that we reignite your passion for ministry by sharing all the wonderful and new things we learn along the way. We hope that you are filled with an experience of the Holy Spirit and a sense of comfort that the church will continue in capable hands. I hope we get to that sense of mutual benefaction for the sake of the church in the world.
There are 13 United Methodist seminaries in existence. That means there are more people than just me who are studying in an area outside their home conference, and especially outside of their districts. While it is their choice to go to a seminary closest to home or far away, I question how much help is provided in helping them balance the requirements of academia and church.
My experience has been that dCOM only meets for one meeting during the summer. Summer is when I have the least amount of money. Seminarians are doing field education internships, CPE or working to save up money for next year. There is no access to scholarships, grants or loans, and financial assistance from the conference has never been a suggestion. This year especially, it looks like a tough summer for employment.
My other experience has been that dCOM meets when I have scheduled classes. I find it ironic that I leave important instruction to talk about what I'm learning. Professors generally excuse this absence because it is for professional reasons, but there is catching up to be done. The travel, the expense and the intellectual catch-up is exhausting.
I wish I could help dCOM, and conferences, understand that diversity in seminary education is a plus for the connexional system of the United Methodist Church. Encouraging students to attend the closest seminary so that it's easier to meet with dCOM actually breaks down the ties that bind us. We become more fragmented when we all stay close to home. We also push really great people out of serving the church because frustration levels get to a breaking point. I have seen far too many people give up on this system - people who could have transformed the local charge and the greater body.
My suggestion, should anyone wish to listen to this voice, is help us achieve. Make a little room at Annual Conference to meet with your candidates who attend far away. You don't have to get everyone that week, but look at those who have to take a train or plane to reach you, and help them out. If they can make the commitment to attend annual conference (which should offer a seminarian discount since most of us have negative income and live off loans), help them out with an hour of your time. What better way to learn about your candidate than over a meal? Jesus taught his disciples over meals all the time. United Methodists are known for the fellowship over the meal - although usually in crockpot form.
We hope we are not a burden to you - another thing to squeeze into the calender. We want to learn from you, and we seek affirmation that the gifts we see in ourselves are visible to others, especially those already within the church. We hope that we reignite your passion for ministry by sharing all the wonderful and new things we learn along the way. We hope that you are filled with an experience of the Holy Spirit and a sense of comfort that the church will continue in capable hands. I hope we get to that sense of mutual benefaction for the sake of the church in the world.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Another turning point - a fork stuck in the road
There are many lasts to be had right now. The last day of classes. The last paper to write. The last exam to take. The last party to attend. The last chance to hug a dear friend before paths diverge across the country.
We came here with hopes and dreams, and we leave with the same hopes and dreams. Perhaps we leave with a little more insight on how to make them happen. I will be staying - throughout the summer and into next academic year. However, I will not return with many friends. It's bittersweet to think I will spend more time in a place I love, but some of the people I have come to love will not be here.
But they need to go. They need to take their places in the will of God. They need their turn to bring about changes that let others know they are not alone in this world. I need them to go too. They have let me lean on them when I was not strong. Because of them, I healed when I didn't think it was possible. Now it's time for me to prove how strong I really am - to me and to them. When I stand tall and proud I also honor all that they have done to help me. They may not get the fruit of their labor, but someone else will. I will pass it on to another group of people who have the potential to be just as amazing. It's now my position to help bring that around. This time next year, it will be my turn to say the big good byes. Until then, I will enjoy this time I have left and look forward to all the possibilities to come.
We came here with hopes and dreams, and we leave with the same hopes and dreams. Perhaps we leave with a little more insight on how to make them happen. I will be staying - throughout the summer and into next academic year. However, I will not return with many friends. It's bittersweet to think I will spend more time in a place I love, but some of the people I have come to love will not be here.
But they need to go. They need to take their places in the will of God. They need their turn to bring about changes that let others know they are not alone in this world. I need them to go too. They have let me lean on them when I was not strong. Because of them, I healed when I didn't think it was possible. Now it's time for me to prove how strong I really am - to me and to them. When I stand tall and proud I also honor all that they have done to help me. They may not get the fruit of their labor, but someone else will. I will pass it on to another group of people who have the potential to be just as amazing. It's now my position to help bring that around. This time next year, it will be my turn to say the big good byes. Until then, I will enjoy this time I have left and look forward to all the possibilities to come.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I'm a big kid now
There are moments when you realized you have crossed a threshold in life, and you just won't be able to go back. For most people it comes with landmark birthdays: 18,21, 25 (for some) and 30 are a few that I have crossed and crossed with friends. You can relive a part of what's past from time to time, but it's not quite the same.
I am getting ready to take office as student body president. I don't say this to gloat or rub it in the face of anyone reading. Honestly, I'm nervous about it. For as confident as I was a few weeks ago while "campaigning" through letting people know where I stood on issues and where I saw the future of the school, I now stand in awe of the power, trust and respect (on both sides) that is placed with this office.
When I first came to seminary, I stood in awe of the people whose positions I am filling or am about to fill. I looked up to them and respected them. These were people who could make change happen, and they did. When students needed help, they were there. They rallied around those who had little or no voice and made sure they were heard. Now I am being entrusted with that legacy. I feel a little like Queen Elizabeth I - overwhelmed, never thought I'd be here, and yet ready to go.
I'm also facing the very real scenario of being a pastor. People ask me for advice, and I am being asked to lead in times of crisis. What I say and do (or don't say or don't do for that matter) actually means something. I have the ability to build up or tear down. I only hope that I am receptive enough to the movement of the Holy Spirit to do either of these things for the betterment of God's Kingdom on earth.
If I stand in these positions thinking it's on my own merit, I know I will fail. The person who believes she is the one with the power is the one who is estranged from God. She has an uphill battle to fight. God is not absent - she just didn't ask for God's help. So, I need to remember that God wants to do something with me - just as I am and just where I am. If I do that, along with prayer and other means of grace, I stand the best chance of seeing what God has in store.
It's scary to cross this threshold. I'm glad to know I'm not alone. God put angels on earth to help guide me through. Perhaps I will be used as an angel to help guide someone else through this thing we call life. Perhaps...
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Can you keep a secret?
I thought the hardest thing about going into ministry was going to be keeping secrets. Sometimes it would be information to the congregation and sometimes about the congregation. I expected that people would just tell me things and I would have to learn to swallow it or just let it roll off my shoulders like water on teflon. I have since learned I was wrong. The thing about other people's secrets is that they were never mine to begin with. I never had to wrestle with the decisions surrounding them. I can lighten the burden for a while, but I will never completely take it.
What I have discovered about ministry is this, the hardest thing about it is knowing people feel they have to keep secrets from you. I took it for granted that people would tell me things. They don't have to do it. In the past week, many people I know have shared very personal things with me. I won't betray their trust by listing them here, but they were carrying heavy burdens along with the burden of guilt or shame. It wasn't that these people didn't really trust me - they didn't want to be vulnerable and be hurt in the most sensitive spot. And yet, I hurt. I hurt because they felt they had to go it alone. I feel bad that situations had to come to a point where they could no longer hide the truth and then told me. It's not that I feel betrayed - that's not it at all. I just wish they didn't feel they had to carry the burden alone.
I'm not one to hide much in my life. For better or worse, I lay it all out there for people to see. Some come to me because they know I will understand. Some seize the opportunity to strike me at the heart of what hurts. Some will look at it all and simply walk away. I have a greater appreciation for those who practice a more cautious approach to sharing their lives. It's not a matter of courage. I am no more courageous than anyone else. What I have learned is that by holding back there is a deeper sense of intimacy. When only a few, as opposed to many, know a core part of you, they sense how deep a connection is there.
To my many friends - the ones I know, and the ones I have yet to meet - thank you for all that you share with me. If I have not helped ease your burden, I am ready to help when you are ready. I only hope that you don't feel you have to carry it alone.
What I have discovered about ministry is this, the hardest thing about it is knowing people feel they have to keep secrets from you. I took it for granted that people would tell me things. They don't have to do it. In the past week, many people I know have shared very personal things with me. I won't betray their trust by listing them here, but they were carrying heavy burdens along with the burden of guilt or shame. It wasn't that these people didn't really trust me - they didn't want to be vulnerable and be hurt in the most sensitive spot. And yet, I hurt. I hurt because they felt they had to go it alone. I feel bad that situations had to come to a point where they could no longer hide the truth and then told me. It's not that I feel betrayed - that's not it at all. I just wish they didn't feel they had to carry the burden alone.
I'm not one to hide much in my life. For better or worse, I lay it all out there for people to see. Some come to me because they know I will understand. Some seize the opportunity to strike me at the heart of what hurts. Some will look at it all and simply walk away. I have a greater appreciation for those who practice a more cautious approach to sharing their lives. It's not a matter of courage. I am no more courageous than anyone else. What I have learned is that by holding back there is a deeper sense of intimacy. When only a few, as opposed to many, know a core part of you, they sense how deep a connection is there.
To my many friends - the ones I know, and the ones I have yet to meet - thank you for all that you share with me. If I have not helped ease your burden, I am ready to help when you are ready. I only hope that you don't feel you have to carry it alone.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Give a little bit...
I've been spending my Spring Break in Turkey. I'm now on day 6 here. It's been a very interesting experience to visit all these amazing sites of historical, religious and archaeological importance.
Another side of what I have been learning is the view of Christianity. I am in a Muslim country, and it's not "en vogue" to be a Christian. Now, I'm not exactly a minority here. Yes, I'm a minority in this country, but I still belong the largest religion in the world. There is still a reason to fear me, and they do to some extent.
I have had to put away all my sweatshirts and t-shirts that say "theology" on them because it gives an impression that I am here to make converts. I hadn't even thought of the implications of wearing it when I was packing - I'm so used to wearing it all the time. (And I do wear it all the time, as my classmates will attest.) They are an extension of who I am. Yet, in the interest of research and goodwill, I put them away and only wear them in my room or at the library - never between the two places.
The hardest one for me was my necklace. The first day I wore a shirt in which my necklace could be seen, I didn't even realize you could see my cross. The next day, I made the decision not to take it off. There was just something too difficult about taking it off me. I hardly notice when it's there, but I most certainly know when it's gone. It's a big part of who I am. I don't need to be overt about it, but giving up the small things is really hard.
I still struggle with this right now - 6 days into the journey. How do I balance being a good guest of a country while being a good representative of my faith? I have a greater appreciation for what St. Paul had to do in setting up and maintaining his churches in the Aegean region. I better understand what he means about being "all things to all people." (1 Cor 9:22) He's trying to answer the very same question I'm struggling with right now... he's trying to fit in while witnessing by presence. (However, I am not here with an intention of making converts.)
I'm not sure how to navigate these two desires, but I am figuring out how to make the banks. I respect the host country and its primary religion by not being brash or brazen about my faith. I respect my beliefs by maintaining core elements to my faith - private devotion and my necklace - the symbol of my faith. I listen to Mark's teaching that I should do things in secret and not boast about them - my Abba knows what I am doing, and that is sufficient. (paraphrase)
What's most important about this journey is not that I find an answer, but I become comfortable with the tension in the question.
Another side of what I have been learning is the view of Christianity. I am in a Muslim country, and it's not "en vogue" to be a Christian. Now, I'm not exactly a minority here. Yes, I'm a minority in this country, but I still belong the largest religion in the world. There is still a reason to fear me, and they do to some extent.
I have had to put away all my sweatshirts and t-shirts that say "theology" on them because it gives an impression that I am here to make converts. I hadn't even thought of the implications of wearing it when I was packing - I'm so used to wearing it all the time. (And I do wear it all the time, as my classmates will attest.) They are an extension of who I am. Yet, in the interest of research and goodwill, I put them away and only wear them in my room or at the library - never between the two places.
The hardest one for me was my necklace. The first day I wore a shirt in which my necklace could be seen, I didn't even realize you could see my cross. The next day, I made the decision not to take it off. There was just something too difficult about taking it off me. I hardly notice when it's there, but I most certainly know when it's gone. It's a big part of who I am. I don't need to be overt about it, but giving up the small things is really hard.
I still struggle with this right now - 6 days into the journey. How do I balance being a good guest of a country while being a good representative of my faith? I have a greater appreciation for what St. Paul had to do in setting up and maintaining his churches in the Aegean region. I better understand what he means about being "all things to all people." (1 Cor 9:22) He's trying to answer the very same question I'm struggling with right now... he's trying to fit in while witnessing by presence. (However, I am not here with an intention of making converts.)
I'm not sure how to navigate these two desires, but I am figuring out how to make the banks. I respect the host country and its primary religion by not being brash or brazen about my faith. I respect my beliefs by maintaining core elements to my faith - private devotion and my necklace - the symbol of my faith. I listen to Mark's teaching that I should do things in secret and not boast about them - my Abba knows what I am doing, and that is sufficient. (paraphrase)
What's most important about this journey is not that I find an answer, but I become comfortable with the tension in the question.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Incompatible!
I am a very good Methodist. I ordered my brand-new Book of Discipline almost as soon as I could. I waited with eager anticipation to receive it. I decided to ecological and get the CD-ROM version, which also includes the Book of Resolutions - and I don't know anyone who gets excited about that one! When it finally came today I had to restrain myself from opening it until I got home. There it was! My brand-new 2008 Book of Discipline!
I turned the box over to read all the wonderfully over-inflated descriptions about what it contained. And then all my excitement was deflated. It listed all the operating systems on which it would run: Windows, windows, windows, windows. I have a Mac. ugh. Because I had made a decision 2 years ago to buy a Mac I could not enjoy my new Book. (Under copyright laws, if I remove the outer plastic covering, I cannot return it - only exchange, so I didn't bother to "try-and-see".)
Sometimes things in life seem that way - incompatible. we make decisions along the way that we think are right only to be left wondering later on, "Did I make the best one?" In this case, yes, I made the right one. I love my computer - we've been through quite a bit together. I don't understand what the UMC and Cokesbury has against Macs. (I plan to ask tomorrow.) Yet, I can relate to making decisions I thought were right at the time only to question them later.
Sometimes life is incompatible. We meet the right person, but the timing is all off. We get a call from God, but there is work to be done first. We find the dream job, but the experience needed isn't what we have at that time. The CD-ROM just won't run. I trust that God is putting a nudge in us at those times of incompatibility. God says, "Try a little harder; go another route; I have something in mind for you." I like to think that God is asking me to respond. So, I will call Cokesbury and see if it will run on a Mac or if they will send me a hard copy of The Book. I will try a little harder because I know that nothing will separate me from the love of Christ... and the UMC!
I turned the box over to read all the wonderfully over-inflated descriptions about what it contained. And then all my excitement was deflated. It listed all the operating systems on which it would run: Windows, windows, windows, windows. I have a Mac. ugh. Because I had made a decision 2 years ago to buy a Mac I could not enjoy my new Book. (Under copyright laws, if I remove the outer plastic covering, I cannot return it - only exchange, so I didn't bother to "try-and-see".)
Sometimes things in life seem that way - incompatible. we make decisions along the way that we think are right only to be left wondering later on, "Did I make the best one?" In this case, yes, I made the right one. I love my computer - we've been through quite a bit together. I don't understand what the UMC and Cokesbury has against Macs. (I plan to ask tomorrow.) Yet, I can relate to making decisions I thought were right at the time only to question them later.
Sometimes life is incompatible. We meet the right person, but the timing is all off. We get a call from God, but there is work to be done first. We find the dream job, but the experience needed isn't what we have at that time. The CD-ROM just won't run. I trust that God is putting a nudge in us at those times of incompatibility. God says, "Try a little harder; go another route; I have something in mind for you." I like to think that God is asking me to respond. So, I will call Cokesbury and see if it will run on a Mac or if they will send me a hard copy of The Book. I will try a little harder because I know that nothing will separate me from the love of Christ... and the UMC!
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