On Leading with Kindness…

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act, Community of Kindness, conflict, God, hesed, inspire, kindness, lead, loving kindness, transform, Williamsburg

Photo credit:  https://www.mediumsizedfamily.com/acts-of-kindness-in-words/

Recently I have been feeling pretty defeated about the ways we have been treating one another in our country.  It happens in all sorts of ways.  It happens in the tribalism in politics that makes us unable to even listen to alternate perspectives or work toward respectful compromise.  It happens in the ways in which we give ourselves permission to believe stereotypes instead of getting to know individuals.  It happens in the ways in which truth is distorted and disregarded.  It even happens in our wonderful hometown, when people submit hateful, anonymous comments in what our local paper calls “The Last Word.”

I think that is why I have been finding such joy in a new endeavor here in this same hometown.  I am a part of the LEAD Greater Williamsburg program, a community immersion program that provides opportunities for recognized and emergent leaders to collaborate on issues of importance to the region, run through the Greater Williamsburg Chamber and Tourism Alliance.  The issue that our class is working on is kindness.  I know that may sound simple or even too ephemeral, but the more we work on helping the Greater Williamsburg Area become the next Community of Kindness, the more excited I become.

The program will launch on February 1, 2019, but already I am seeing the power of kindness.  First, the LEAD with Kindness program is already uncovering all kinds of efforts by schools, businesses, and non-profit organizations to promote kindness.  Just learning about these efforts has lifted some of that defeatedness I had been feeling.  But it has not stopped there.  The more we talk about promoting, developing, and honoring kindness, the more I have started seeing kindness.  I see it in my parishioners at Hickory Neck, I see it in my family members, and I even see it in that “Last Word” column in the paper.  And the more I see kindness, the more inspired I become to live into kindness – in fact, the more I see the loving-kindness, or hesed, of our God in others.

You will be hearing a lot more from me about this kindness project, my dreams for seeing the Greater Williamsburg area become the next Community of Kindness, and our church’s role in the movement.  But for now, I invite you to try a few things.  First, put on your “kindness glasses,” and just start looking around you for acts of kindness you see every day.  Two, acknowledge the kindness you see around you – whether it’s a high five, a pat on the back, or even a note about how someone’s kindness inspired you.  And three, perform one act of kindness today.  It does not have to be anything grandiose.  Just one small act of kindness.  And then let me know about it.  Let’s let God’s loving-kindness take root in us, transforming our community, our region, and maybe even the world!

A Journey to Generosity…

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bless, evangelism, generosity, giving, God, gratitude, Holy Spirit, idea, inspire, journey, life, light, stewardship, vision

I am always amused when I discover the Holy Spirit at work because the discovery usually happens when I am in the thick of executing something I thought I had planned myself.  Ideas come to me, I test out the idea with others, I do the planning to implement the idea – basically the whole process involves a great deal of self-direction.  But when an idea really blows me away is when the idea takes off in even better ways than I planned.  When I finally realize how inspired the idea is, I realize that the idea could not have possibly come from me alone.  The only way those incredible moments of confluence occur is through the Holy Spirit.

I had one of those moments this week.  On Sunday we kicked off our stewardship campaign entitled “Journey to Generosity.”   All sorts of activities are a part of that campaign:  inspirational materials from our Stewardship Committee explaining the campaign, reflections from fellow parishioners, Parish Parties, sermons from the clergy, and meditations from national church leaders.  All of those experiences would be enough to situate us in a place of profound gratitude.  But then other things started happening.

The first has been attending our adult formation series.  The series is about evangelism, so I had expected our energies to be focused on the work of spreading the good news.  But the first sentence from the book we are using says, “Evangelism is your natural expression of gratitude for God’s goodness.”[i]  While I thought our conversations about gratitude and generosity would be limited to stewardship, here gratitude was permeating other areas of church life.  The second thing that happened was welcoming the first of three babies due this month at church.  As I held the first one yesterday, especially after a rough twenty-four hours of mourning another massive shooting in Las Vegas, I looked at that tiny child and felt a profound sense of gratitude for the gift of life.

Our “inspired” idea to talk and pray about our Journey to Generosity has already morphed into something much bigger.  I find myself being grateful not just for the generosity of parishioners who are passionate about our church and support its work through financial giving.  I am also grateful for a community of people who are so enthusiastic about their gratitude that they want to go out and share the good news with others.  I am grateful for a church community so generous in spirit that they can take tragedy and find rays of light and hope all around.  I am grateful for a community whose gratitude is so powerful that they have a vision of making our community a better place:  through our Fall Festival, through our visioning work with our Vestry, and through daily service to others.  What seemed like a catchy campaign slogan has actually been naming a way of life at Hickory Neck:  a life rooted in gratitude and generosity.  Thank you for letting me be a part of this journey with you all.  You inspire me every day and you transform my relationship with God every week.  God bless you on your journey to generosity!

[i] David Gortner, Transforming Evangelism (New York:  Church Publishing, 2008), 1.

So Let Your Light Shine…

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Christ, church, glory, God, inspire, joy, light, passion, shine, transformation

Photo credit:  embracingbeauty.com/2013/04/20/letting-our-light-shine-by-donating-w-champions-for-kids-mobilizingmillions-cbias/

These last few weeks, I have been visiting outreach ministries that our parish supports.  The ministries have varied widely – from a free health clinic, to a ministry aimed at keeping seniors independent as long as possible, to a multi-service agency that works in a particularly impoverished area of our community.  Visiting the agencies has given me a great deal of perspective on the larger Williamsburg community – the various ways that poverty can impact the lives of our neighbors.  Whether the challenge is housing, health care, food, clothing, transportation, or education, the needs vary wide.  Luckily, there are people who are passionate about each need, and are working hard to make life a little better for our neighbors.

Equally helpful to learning the statistics and needs of each agency has been watching the passion of our parishioners who are involved in the ministries.  At each agency, a parishioner has shared with me why they volunteer, what inspires them, and how important the ministry is to our community.  With each parishioner, I see a certain tenderness toward the clients and a passion about the issue.   The parishioner’s entire demeanor changes when they talk about the ministry – making the case even more compelling than the executive director of the agency can make it.

As I have watched the physical transformation of our parishioners as they tell me about their passion for outreach ministries, I realized that is the same transformation I hope to see when they tell their friends about Hickory Neck.  You see, just like outreach ministries give us a sense of purpose outside of ourselves, church should similarly give us a sense of purpose outside of ourselves.  At church, we find ourselves inspired by worshiping our God.  At church, we find ourselves renewed as we learn and grow in our faith journey.  At church, we find ourselves made whole as we laugh and rejoice together.  At church, we are changed, we change others, and we change our community beyond the church walls.

I saw that same transformation as I interviewed with the Search Committee and Vestry over six months ago.  I saw that transformation in our parishioners this summer when I asked each of you what brings you joy about Hickory Neck.  And today, I imagine each of you might feel that inner transformation, that deep sense of joy, if you were to think about why you love Hickory Neck.  My invitation for all of us in the coming weeks is to take ourselves to that deep, inner sense of meaning, purpose, and joy, and to start inviting your friends and neighbors into that same experience.  If you speak from the heart, letting your light and passion shine through you, I promise you will inspire others more than you know.  Just like I saw the bodily transformation when you talked about your passions for outreach, your neighbors will be equally drawn in by your passion for church.  As we look to kick off the program year, I look forward to hearing how our newcomers were inspired by the Christ light shining in you, and wanted to find out how to capture that same light.

Homily – Matthew 11.25-30, St. Francis, October 4, 2015

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burden, comfort, crazy, discomfort, easy, give up, holy, homily, imitate, impossible, inspire, Jesus, life, light, missions, Pope Francis, saint, sanitized, St. Francis, uncomfortable, yoke

I once led a book group that read the book The Prison Angel.  The Prison Angel is the story of Mother Antonio, a woman of privilege from California who had a mid-life crisis, took on the role of a nun, went to the largest prison in Tijuana, Mexico, and began a ministry of transforming guards, inmates, and families connected to the prison.  Her work was amazing – the way that she was able to love everyone equally, the way that she was able to harness resources and get them where they needed to be, and the way that she was able to devote her life to this system – even living in her own prison cell for a while – were all examples of her awesome witness.  As we finished the book, I had hoped that people in our book group would be inspired, and might even consider their own contribution to a prison ministry.  Instead, the response was more like this:  Mother Antonio is truly amazing.  But let’s be honest.  I can’t be like her.  I’m not going to drop everything – my family and life – and become totally devoted to a ministry.  And just like that, I lost them.  No longer was Mother Antonio inspiring.  She was impossible.  And once she was impossible, no one felt compelled to do anything.  I definitely felt like I failed my mission of inspiration leading to action.

As I was preparing for today’s celebration of St. Francis, I ran across this quote:  “Of all the saints, Francis is the most popular and admired, but probably the least imitated.”[i]  You see, we have a sanitized version of Francis in our minds.  He was nice to animals and took care of the poor.  He devoted his life to Christ as a monk.  We even put up statues of Francis in our gardens and outside our churches.  When we think of Francis, we think of a gentle man gingerly allowing a bird to perch on his finger, and we smile.  We like our sanitized version of Francis because the real version is a little scary.  When Francis renounced his rather significant wealth, he stripped naked in front of his father and the bishop.  Francis didn’t just help the poor, he became poor, begging on the streets.  He worked with lepers – people no one wanted to touch, touching them with his bare hands and kissing them.  Barefoot, he preached in the streets about repentance.  He preached to the birds, and is rumored to have negotiated with a wolf.  If we met St. Francis today, most of us would not imitate or venerate him.  We would just see him as another homeless beggar with a serious case of mental illness.

That is the challenge for us when trying to live a holy life.  St. Francis is the obvious example today.  Though we love and admire St. Francis, few of are comfortable with his total identification with poverty, suffering, and care for our creation.  The same can be said of Jesus.  Though we profess that Jesus is our Lord and Savior, we regularly fail to live in the ways that Jesus taught – in fact, some of us have given up even trying.  Even looking toward a modern-day example of holy living trips us up.  When we watched Pope Francis come through last week, we marveled at his radical witness.  We loved what he had to say – except when he had something to say that made us uncomfortable or that we disagreed with.  When thinking about the radical life that is following Jesus – whether through the Pope, through St. Francis, or Jesus himself – most of us stumble and feel like giving up.

Luckily Jesus offers us a promise today.  Jesus says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”  My yoke is easy and my burden is light.  When we look at St. Francis’ witness and we think about the poverty, the preaching, and the penitence, we get nervous.  We like our stuff, we like being comfortable, and we like being Christians without having to be too loud about it.  When we think about St. Francis, we think of a yoke – but not a light one – one that is heavy and onerous.  But Jesus harkens us back to his original words.  My yoke is easy and my burden is light.

One of the reasons I am a proponent of international missions is that they help you experience reality in a totally different way.  When we go on local missions, we can keep our smart phones, we have access to clean, accessible health care, and we can always find a McDonalds for a burger fix.  But when we are in a rural town in a third world country, things change.  We may not get to shower everyday, we may have to boil our water before drinking it, we will eat food that you are not so sure about, and we pray that we don’t get too sick while abroad.  And forget about a cell phone and internet access.  Most of us don’t even take a watch or jewelry to ensure they do not get lost.  Now that may sound like torture to most of you.  But here is what we learn when we are stripped of comforts and living and working in a foreign setting:  We learn to appreciate your massive wealth comparable to the poor in the third world; we learn what hospitality – real hospitality in the face of nothing – really feels like; we forget about email, phone calls, and even stop obsessively checking the time, because those things do not really matter that week; we hear birds and other creatures in a way that we never have before – maybe because of their proximity, or maybe because we normally distract ourselves with a hundred other things; and – now this is the crazy one – we talk about Jesus and no one is uncomfortable (well, except maybe us because we haven’t done that very much).  When stripped of everything familiar, we discover that Jesus’ burden really is easy and his yoke truly is light.  And sometimes we need to be stripped of the familiar so that when we are back in our comfort zone, we can more tangibly remember how easy that burden was and how light that yoke felt.

You may not be able to go on an international mission trip.  But each of you has some experience – a heartfelt expression of gratitude when you cared for the poor, a prayer with someone who was really hurting, or surprisingly easy conversation in a coffee shop about church and your faith.  Though Jesus, St. Francis, and even the Pope sometimes go to extreme measures, they all ultimately are trying to do the same thing.  To remind us that Jesus’ burden is easy and his yoke is light.  And then they all invite us to get comfortable with discomfort or even with the label of being crazy – and to go and do likewise.  Amen.

[i] Holy Men, Holy Women:  Celebrating the Saints (New York:  The Church Pension Fund, 2010), 622.