On Race and the Pilgrimage Ahead…

Tags

action, call, God, journey, pilgrimage, race, racism, sin, transform

Photo credit:  parentingsquad.com/6-ways-to-improve-race-relations-at-home

Last summer a confluence of events happened.  I heard an interview with the author of Homegoing that made me want to read her novel about the history of the slave trade in Ghana and America.  I learned of a Diocesan pilgrimage to Ghana.  I was invited to a racial reconciliation discussion group in the community.  And my Netflix queue brought up two movies in a row – Lee Daniel’s The Butler and Straight Outta Compton.  As I read, watched, listened, and prayed, I wondered if God might be inviting me and our church community to talk more deeply about race.

So we did.  We read Homegoing at our church and our discussions were vulnerable and beautiful.  We went to a play in Colonial Williamsburg about the difficulty of serving as black and white interpreters in a time of slavery.  We hosted an Anglican priest from Ghana, prayed for this year’s Ghanaian pilgrims, and encouraged parishioners to consider a pilgrimage themselves.  We hosted a Bible Study with a predominantly African-American church. And we watched sports films that addressed racial relations.  At some point this summer, about a year after my initial epiphany, I began to wonder if I were beating the same drum too often.  Maybe race was a conversation we needed to give a rest.

And then the protests and counter-protests happened in Charlottesville.  As I watched hatred, racism, and violence on full display, as I saw rage, indignation, and entitlement in protestors’ eyes, and as I watched peaceful resistance dissolve into violent resistance, I knew we were not done with this race topic.  The scars are so deep and the impact is so rampant that we may never be done.  But fatigue, especially by white people, is not an excuse to disengage.  This week, I invite you to consider what you want to do in your life and in your community about racism.  If you are looking for suggestions, I commend the concrete suggestions by the Diocese of Virginia found here.

For me, I am committing to staying involved in our local ecumenical racial reconciliation discussion group.  I will keep inviting our church into race-related conversations, and encourage our exploration of our own complicity with the sin of racism.  I will keep reading and learning.  And I want to commit to going to Ghana with our Diocesan pilgrimage group.  I am not sure our family can afford it (I guess you know what to get me for my birthday!), but I feel God pushing me to walk through those slave castles, to learn in-person our shared history, and see the impact of slavery on another country.  I feel drawn to walking with fellow pilgrims of both white and black races, seeing how God might transform me on the journey.  If you feel similarly called, please join us next summer.  Or if you know you cannot make the pilgrimage, but want to financially support our engagement, I will help you become a partner with us.  Whatever you choose, do something.  I look forward to hearing about how God is calling you or how God is already using you for change.

On Sports, Story, and the Spirit…

Tags

challenge, conversation, faith, faithful, fun, hope, Jesus, journey, movie, power, race, racial reconciliation, sports, story

Photo credit:  coachcarter5.blogspot.com/p/plot-summary.html

This summer, our church was looking to do two things:  we wanted to offer a “light” educational series that adults could enjoy and we wanted to continue our conversation about racial reconciliation.  One might think those two goals do not go together.  But we were not to be deterred.  We settled on the option of watching movies that were about racial reconciliation.  Movies are certainly fun, but the topic still wasn’t capturing the “fun” or “light” criteria.  Then the idea hit us:  sports movies!  Sports movies allow us to be entertained, while sneaking in powerful stories of hope, challenge, and encouragement.

The model has worked even better than I suspected.  Our first two movies have been 42: The Jackie Robinson Story and The Blind Side.  The last two movies are Coach Carter and Invictus.  We were able to feature four sports:  baseball, football, basketball, and rugby.  Each week we have been able to cheer on teams, laugh at comical moments, and pause with discomfort when truth broke through.  Our conversations have been rich – each movie bringing up parallels in our own stories – about race, about respecting the dignity of every human being, and about our journey with faith.

I think what has made that work is each movie is based on a true story.  We did not make that connection when planning the film list, but it has been a powerful surprise.  Unlike a fictional film, which could be dismissed as romantic, overly simple, or unrealistic, these movies show us real people, trying to live faithful lives on and off the field.  Their stories have been encouraging us to do likewise – examine how we are living faithful lives on and off the field.  Ultimately, I think that is the only way we are going to make our way toward racial reconciliation:  sharing our stories and listening to others’ stories.  It would be easy to do otherwise; to keep our heads down and ignore what is happening in the world about us.  But these stories invite us into another way of being.

The invitation of our Faith and Film series this week is for us to find ways to engage outside of the theater.  Maybe you start by telling someone about this awesome movie you just saw.  Or if you are feeling more confident, maybe you simply talk to a friend or coworker – either of your race or another – and start with a confession, “I watched this movie and it has made me think about [insert your thoughts here].  What is your experience with that?”  Using the movie or your own story allows you to do what Jesus did all the time – engage people where they are through the power of story.  I believe reconciliation starts there:  one story at a time.

On the Power of Hands…

Tags

bishop, blessing, church, confirmation, discernment, Episcopal, God, hands, journey, spiritual

Photo credit:  https://www.sevenwholedays.org/2012/05/29/on-confirmation/

When I was confirmed as an Episcopalian, the decision to be in the Cathedral that day was preceded by a long journey.  I took not one, but two confirmation classes, not feeling entirely ready after the first class.  I was not only discerning whether I was called to membership in the Episcopal Church, I was also discerning a call to ordained ministry in the Church.  I had spent over a year studying, praying, talking to people about their denomination experiences, and listening for the voice of God.  I had to have conversations with people like my father, who not only was a United Methodist minister, but also was his father, his brother, his uncles, and on and on.  Needless to say, when I knelt down in front of the bishop that day, I came with the weight and conviction of that discernment process.

But something powerful happened when the Bishop put his hands on my head, and my presenters put their hands on my shoulders.  Though the weight of those hands was heavy, the weight also seemed to melt away the year of toil and angst.  The power of those hands seemed to push out of my being any doubt or sense of wandering, and instead, a wave of peace, affirmation, and purpose washed over me.  When the Dean helped me rise to my feet, I felt light and buoyant.  The imprint of those hands felt both oddly still heavily present and yet empowering.

This Sunday, we will be confirming and receiving several parishioners at our triennial bishop’s visit.  They come from all walks of life.  Some are youth who were born and raised in the Episcopal Church.  Some are adults from Baptist, United Methodist, and Roman Catholic backgrounds.  Some bring burdens from their past experiences in the church and some are deeply appreciative of their roots in another tradition.  All have spent time in study, reflection, and discernment about whether this is the right decision for them.  And all are excited about the new ways they have seen God inspiring their spiritual journey, and are hopeful about the ways that Hickory Neck will walk with them on that journey.

All of that – the preparation, the discernment, the long histories, the maturing of youth, the questions, and the affirmation all come through hands – hands that have been blessed through the centuries and consecrated to bless this new phase of journeys.  I look forward to this momentous occasion and all it brings for our confirmands and those being received.  And I can’t wait to see where the journey takes them in the years to come!

Sermon – Jonah 3.1-10, Psalm 51.11-18, and Luke 11.29-32, Ecumenical Lenten Worship Series, March 8, 2017

Tags

change, ecumenical, God, hero, immature, Jonah, journey, judgment, Lent, listen, neighbor, Nineveh, renewal, repent, repentance, Sermon, sin, temper tantrum, together, witness

I have always loved Jonah’s story.  He is probably one of the most juvenile characters in the Hebrew Scriptures.  When God tells him to go to Nineveh, he runs in the opposite direction.  Only when God makes the seas roar, and he is swallowed by a fish, does Jonah call out for God’s mercy.  Jonah finally submits to God and goes to Nineveh as he is told, but then he throws a temper tantrum at God when God forgives Nineveh.  He is angry God doesn’t punish the city, and so he storms off to pout.  When a bush giving him shade withers, he ramps up his tirade.  God asks if Jonah has any right to be angry, and Jonah, in classic toddler style, whines, “Yes! Angry enough to die!”  You can almost imagine him stamping his foot, pouting his lower lip, and furrowing his brow.

Jonah is easy to make fun of because his behavior is so incredibly immature and self-centered.  We laugh at his adult-sized temper tantrum because we all know adults are too old for that sort of behavior.  But that is what is tricky about Jonah too.  Deep down, in places we do not like to talk about, we know Jonah’s experience all too well.  When we are really honest, we can confess that may or may not have thrown an epic temper tantrum in our adult lives too.  Whether over the reoccurrence of an illness, the death of a loved one, a lost cause, the job we did not get, or the love that was not returned, we have all had our Jonah moments.  Though we publicly all can say, “Silly Jonah, when will he learn?!?”, privately, we all think, “That sounds uncomfortably familiar.  I hope no one noticed my temper tantrum!”

Of course, at the end of the day, Jonah does what he is told – witnesses to the people of Nineveh, as God requests.  But in the drama of Jonah’s story, we often forget one minor, and yet central component of Jonah’s story.  Nineveh is the Rockstar of this story.  Nineveh, for all its sinfulness and shame, has no problem admitting Nineveh is wrong.  When Jonah tells Nineveh the city will be overthrown if Nineveh does not repent and change its ways, the people immediately believe God.  They proclaim a fast, and everyone – adults, elders, and children, put on sackcloth.  Even the king of Nineveh immediately rises from his throne, puts on sackcloth and sits in ashes.  He decrees that everyone in the city – humans and animals – will fast, be covered in sackcloth, and cry out their repentance to God.  He declares, “All shall turn form their evil ways and from the violence that is in their hands.  Who knows?  God may relent and change God’s mind; God may turn from God’s fierce anger, so that we do not perish.”

The king of Nineveh and the people of Nineveh are quite unlike most modern recipients of judgment.  In Nineveh, no one holds a press conference to defend their motives and actions.  No one holds a counter-protest to the judgment.  No one even argues with Jonah or asks, “Are you sure?”  Nineveh is told a cold, hard, ugly truth that exposes their deep sinfulness and grievances, and instead of getting defensive, Nineveh drops everything.  They stop in their tracks and change their ways.  They take the judgment with sobriety and honesty, and they make a change.  Though we like to give Jonah the attention, the real heroes in this story are the king and people of Nineveh.

When Jesus talks about repentance in Luke’s gospel today, and when the Church talks about repentance in the season of Lent, this is the kind of repentance we are talking about.  Jesus basically shares that he is to the people of Israel as Jonah was to the people of Nineveh.  He is their sign that repentance is needed.  The people of God are to use Nineveh as their guide for what true repentance looks like.  Jesus’ instruction and Nineveh’s example come at an opportune time for us.  We have managed to work ourselves into a time of finger pointing and name calling.  Our division is found on the political scene, between denominations of churches, and even in our families.  We have presumed that we are Jonahs and everyone else is Nineveh.  The reality, though, is much scarier.  We are not Jonahs.  We are Ninevehs.  Jesus is the Jonah of our time, calling us into repentance and renewal.  We can follow the model that Nineveh set for us, dropping everything to evaluate our sinfulness and changing our behavior immediately.  We can sit in sackcloth and work to deeply understand the role we play in sinful behaviors.  We can invite our neighbors to sit with us as we both work toward repentance.  That is what Lent is all about.

So how do we repent?  How do we take this time of Lent as a time for intentional, dramatic, meaningful change in our lives?  The psalm appointed for today gives us a few clues.  “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.  Cast me not away from your presence and take not your holy Spirit from me.  Give me the joy of your saving help again and sustain me with your bountiful Spirit.”  First, we ask God for help.  We ask God for help, because we know our God will enable us to do the work God has given us to do.  The psalm also tells us to bring others into our journey, “I shall teach your ways to the wicked, and sinners shall return to you.”  We not only bring our broken, sinful, hurtful selves to God, we witness our work to others, using our own vulnerability and humility as an entry to shared journey.  And then we sing.  “Deliver me from death, O God, and my tongue shall sing of your righteousness, O God of my salvation.  Open my lips, O Lord, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise.”  We use our mouths to praise our God – a God who can change course, who can see the repentance of God’s people and take away the horror of judgment.

That’s why I am grateful that we are together tonight.  We come to God across denominational differences and we sit together in worship.  We hear the witness of Nineveh tonight, and then we start the work of emulating Nineveh.  First, we hear Jonah and Jesus’ word of judgment, letting God create in us clean hearts and renewing right spirits in us.  Then, we turn to our neighbor, and work on creating a community of repentance, working to love the Lord our God and our neighbor as ourselves.  Finally, we turn to those not gathered here tonight – those who may not have a church home, and we share our witness.  We share our witness of how we have been a people of sin, and how we are hoping to change our ways.  And we ask if they might help us on that journey – not taking the judgment of Jonah out into the world, but taking the repentance of Nineveh out into the world.  Listening to our neighbors, working together for meaningful change, and creating a city that is humble enough to know that God may relent and not let us perish.  God will renew a right spirit within you, will give you the joy of God’s saving help again, and will sustain you with God’s bountiful Spirit.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Homily – Matthew 17.1-9, LEP, YA, February 26, 2017

Tags

baptism, baptismal covenant, clarity, faith, homily, identity, Jesus, journey, promises, Transfiguration, transformation

Today we celebrate two major events – the Transfiguration of Jesus and the baptism of Levi and Owen at our 9:00 am service.  I have been thinking all week about what a strange, and quite frankly, difficult combination those two events are.  For well over a month, I have been looking forward to being able to tell a child-friendly story about Jesus and baptism – until I realized we were hearing about the Transfiguration.  The Transfiguration is one of those major ah-ha moments in Jesus’ story.  Jesus had been trying to communicate his identity even before he could communicate – first with his miracle birth and the multiple witnesses to his birth.  Later, at his baptism, the voice from Heaven says, “This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”[i]  Even six days before the story we hear today, Peter proclaims that Jesus is the Messiah – but then he quickly gets confused, and Jesus is telling him, “Get behind me Satan”[ii]  So, to help everyone avoid confusion about Jesus’ identity, Jesus, Peter, James, and John go up a mountain and everything becomes crystal clear.

Except, nothing about the Transfiguration is crystal clear.  Why is Jesus all of a sudden dazzling white?  Why are Moses and Elijah there?  Why is Peter babbling about making three dwelling places?  Why are the disciples terrified?  And what in the world does this have to do with baptism?  Of course, there are answers to each of those questions – what we know happens when people encounter God directly, how Moses and Elijah’s presence signify the completion of the Law and the Prophets in Jesus[iii], how dwelling places are a reference to the feast of Tabernacles[iv], and how theophanies are always terrifying.  But the last question – what the Transfiguration has to do with baptism – is the one that has been intriguing me this week.

The more I thought about the Transfiguration, the more I was grateful that Levi and Owen will have this lesson to remember their baptism.  You see, today, their parents and godparents make some promises on their behalf.  They promise to raise these two boys up in the life of faith.  Now that promise may sound simple – years from now, Levi and Owen’s godparents may be calling to say, “Have you been to church lately?”  But the promise is not that simple.  The promise is about not just bringing them to Church, but helping them engage in their faith life.  At first, engaging in their faith life will mean asking about what happened in Sunday School, or talking about something in the church service.  But as they get older, their promise will mean answering fun questions like, “Why was Jesus so shiny, and why were his clothes sparkling?”  As the boys mature, their promise will mean being role models for living a godly life – and talking about how hard that really is, how much we fail at it, and how we keep repenting and returning to the Lord.  Their promise means being willing to go to hard, vulnerable places and encouraging the boys to listen for God’s voice.

So what does the Transfiguration have to do with those promises?  I like that we get this particular lesson because this lesson is a bit of a metaphor for all of our spiritual journeys.  Throughout our spiritual journey we all have mountaintop experiences.  We have these amazing moments of clarity, of wonder, of mystery, of profound insight, and of transformation.  Those moments help define who and whose we are and how we are going to live our lives.  But just like the disciples, we also find ourselves at times, confused and certainly full of fear on that journey.  To the disciples, Jesus places his hand on them and says, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  We are given those gifts too – sometimes the power of God is so close that the power feels like a hand on us; but most times, the hand is from another pilgrim on the faith journey, encouraging us to get up and telling us not to be afraid.[v]  In many ways, our baptism is our great moment of clarity.  Our baptism is so important and so defining that every time we witness a baptism, the Church invites all of us to reaffirm our baptismal covenant – to remember that profound moment and to recommit ourselves to bringing our lives in line with the vows we took – or someone took on our behalf.

In that way, I am deeply grateful that we get this wonderful story of transformation today.  As we remember this moment of clarity, confusion, companionship, and grace, we engage in another story of transformation – the story of Levi and Owen’s transformation into full members in the body of Christ.  Today, their parents, godparents, and each one of us commit ourselves to being agents of transformation in Levi and Owen’s lives, reminding them who and whose they are as we remind ourselves of who and whose we are.  In that way, Levi and Owen give us a gift too – they gift us with the reminder of our own transformation, and encourage us to renew our faith journey.  And if we especially need it today, they too place their small hands on our shoulders and say to us, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  Because God has work for us to do!  Amen.

[i] Mt. 3.17

[ii] Mt. 16.23

[iii] Robert A. Bryant, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 1 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 455.

[iv] Bryant, 457.

[v] Patrick J. Willson, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 1 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 457.

On Cuisine and Community…

Tags

church, comfort, comfort food, communion, community, cuisine, Eucharist, feast, fellowship, food, God, journey, recipe, strength, sustenance

Photo credit:  whoneedsacape.com/2016/10/italian-mac-cheese/

This weekend, I made a family recipe from my husband’s grandfather.  Though Grandpa Gray is no longer with us, somehow, making this recipe for the first time in a long while flooded me with all kinds of memories.  You see, Italian Mac was the family’s favorite dish – the ultimate comfort food.  One year, I finally asked for the recipe and stayed with Grandpa Gray in the kitchen while he made it.  Now, as I look at the words of the recipe, I can hear his beautiful voice in the words.  As I crush the herbs as he instructed, I can imagine his worn hands doing the same thing.  As our house fills with the aromas of Italian Mac and garlic bread, I can remember the smell of his house.  As I sip the red wine that the recipe suggests I pair with the meal, I can recall the comforting sound of his laughter.

Food has a special power.  Whenever I have been on mission trips, food has created intimate connection.  In Honduras, we all took turns helping the women of the village cook for our team.  After ten minutes of attempting to grind corn, we were all laughing at how much stronger the women were than the men who were lifting bricks to build the church.  On my second visit to Costa Rica, I wanted to learn how to make the beans and rice we ate regularly.  The women were surprised that I was willing to get up early with them and learn.  After that morning, our relationship shifted.  In Myanmar, giggles and laughter ensued as we tried new foods and our hosts appreciated our boldness.

The same is true of the Eucharist.  I have been in churches that use grape juice and a small cube of pasty, crunchy “bread.”  I remember the splendor of the sweet Hawaiian bread used at another church.  I remember the first time I had real wine at communion, and the way that it burned down my throat, lighting a new fire in me.  Whether baked bread, bland wafers, or store-purchased pita bread, each texture and flavor imprints in my mind the church, the community, the spiritual place where I was at the time.  Even this weekend, at my goddaughter’s baptism, my own daughter commented on the “yucky” communion bread they had.  I would have just said it was dense, but that dense texture will linger in my mind as my reminder of our celebration.

Holy Eucharist is the comfort food of Church.  That is why I love being a part of a sacramental church that has Eucharist every Sunday.  But the Church offers other comfort foods as well.  The pancakes we eat every Shrove Tuesday remind me of years of fellowship and laughter – with communities all over the East Coast.  The Brunswick Stew of the Fall Festival at Hickory Neck will always remind me of warmth and community.  There are those dishes at every potluck that you search for, knowing the comfort it will bring.  And of course, there is the Sunday morning coffee – a staple of hospitality and grace.  If you have been missing a sense of community and comfort, I hope you will make your way to Church this week and join us in the feast that not only comforts us, but also strengthens us for the journey.  God has given us great work to do – but God has also given us the sustenance we need for the road ahead.

Photo credit:  stthomasnorwalk.com/religious-ed/sacraments/Eucharist

Getting Real and Giving Generously…

Tags

budget, church, giving, journey, Living Generously, ministry, money, motivation, passion, pledge, real, resources

Photo credit:  www.associationserviceswa.com/2016/08/value-of-a-well-prepared-budget/

The year after I graduated from college, I volunteered fulltime through the AmeriCorps program at a Food Bank in North Carolina.  In addition to working in the warehouse and monitoring agencies, my fellow volunteers and I also had monthly classes on a variety of topics.  My favorite was a budgeting class.  Though most of us were scraping by our living stipend, we still had income and expenses like everyone else.   Our homework was to track our expenses and income for a month and then come back to class to talk about what we noticed.  After that month, I realized that I had picked up a terrible habit.  I had worked very hard to save money during that year.  As a reward for saving money, every week I would treat myself to something small.  But when I did the math, I realized the amount I had saved was much less than the amount with which I was treating myself.  The realization was shocking and wildly disappointing.

On Sunday, we are submitting our pledge commitments for the coming year at Hickory Neck.  Part of our Living Generously campaign has been talking about the powerful ministries at Hickory Neck that mean so much to us.  We have read parishioner reflections, biblical reflections from national church leaders, and a great narrative budget that helps us see how our finances function.  My husband and I are inspired and expectant about the future of Hickory Neck, and we are overjoyed to join the pledging effort to support our ministry.

Inspiration has not been a problem.  In fact, my husband and I talked about how we want to increase our pledge this year.  But as we looked at the numbers, we realized in order to align our budget with our passion, we were going to have to adjust some things.  For us, that means at least a few less meals out each month.  It also may mean being a bit more discerning about wants versus needs.  It will certainly mean keeping an eye on making sure that we are able to keep our pledge next year by saving the amount needed for our increase and not “treating” ourselves disproportionally to our increased pledge.

As the Vestry talked about Stewardship, the Vestry all realized our church giving was motivated by different things.  For some of us, understanding the mission of the church and how our pledge would be used was critical.  For others of us, we needed our giving to be rooted in a theological or spiritual understanding of resources and our stewardship of those resources.  While for others of us, our giving was more motivated by looking around us, taking stock of all the things we like about church, and calculating how much those things cost.  My hope is that our campaign has addressed all of those approaches and that our journey through stewardship season has inspired and rooted you.  I look forward to hearing your story of our journey together and kicking off another great year!

On Living Generously…

Tags

abundance, commitment, conversation, discernment, generosity, God, journey, Living Generously, persistence, pilgrimage, pledge, scarcity, steward, stewardship

Photo credit:  www.tens.org

This past Sunday we kicked off our Fall Stewardship Season, “Living Generously.”  I talked about the campaign in my sermon, but we also have many invitations into this time of discernment for our parishioners.  We each received a packet of information about the ways we can support the life and ministry of Hickory Neck.  We have reflections written by national and parish-level leaders that invite us to consider their experiences around stewardship.  And we are having conversations with each other about how pledging works for each of us.

Just last night, the Vestry took on one of those conversations.  We looked at the gospel lesson for this coming Sunday (Luke 18.1-8) and talked about the challenge of persistence when it comes to stewardship.  We realized that no matter what financial situation or phase of life we are in, living generously does not come naturally or easily, but takes intentionality and persistent commitment.  In our small group, we had a person with young children – including some in childcare, a person with teens approaching college, a person who is thinking about retirement but has taken in an aging parent, and a person in retirement on a fixed income.  Despite those differences, we all have to be intentional with our commitment to stewardship because we all have commitments that can distract us from generosity and tempt us into scarcity.

There was something powerful about talking about hard keeping our commitment to stewardship is with other parishioners.  Too often we take those pledge cards home and embark on a discernment process that is very individualized.  Certainly, we all need time with our God on our own to fortify ourselves to being generous stewards.  But we also need companions on the journey – fellow parishioners who can say, “Yes, it is hard living generously!”  We need those fellow pilgrims because they also remind us of why we keep at it.  These are the same people who will remind you why you are grateful.  After the Vestry talked about the challenges of living generously, then we talked about the benefits.  Stories started pouring in about what we each get out of Church.  We talked about the ways that Hickory Neck feeds us and brings us joy.  We talked about the ways that, throughout life, God has been so faithful to us, and what an honor it is to be able to harness some of that generosity in our own lives.

On Sunday, I encouraged us to spend some time at home in discernment about our stewardship of God’s abundance.  This week, I also want to encourage us to spend some time in discernment with each other.  Share those challenges to being a steward; but also share those blessings of being a steward.  Those conversations may feed the conversation you have at home and will certainly renew your spirit.  Join us as we embark on this journey toward living generously together!

On Collars, Conversations, and Confessions…

Tags

Christ, clergy, collar, conversation, faith, journey, pastor, prayer, priest, stranger

Last week, I stopped by a local doughnut shop to pick up treats for some of our church volunteers.  The staff needed to make a fresh pot of coffee, so I had to wait by the counter.  After a couple of minutes, the woman who had been helping me approached me and said, “Okay, settle a bet for us.  Are you a nun or a pastor?”

Photo credit:  https://blackandwhiteandlivingincolor.com/2014/01/16/coffeehouse-musings-why-i-wear-my-anglican-collar-sometimes/

I get questions about my collar all the time.  Most people are not as courageous and will simply stare – usually with a furrowed brow of confusion.  Others will only confess that they always wondered what that “thing” was I wore when we finally get around to talking about our jobs.  Sometimes people will ask if the Roman Catholic Church started ordaining women (trust me – you would know if they had!).  Of course, my favorite experiences have been when I have been both in a collar and pregnant.  That really confuses people!

Once I finally confessed I was a “pastor” to the doughnut shop, one of the women working the drive-through said, “Oh good!  Can you pray for us?”  We had a great conversation after that, and I promised to keep them in my prayers for the rest of the day as I departed.  But as I left, I realized two things.  First, being a priest in my community is a tremendous blessing.  It allows me to have deep, intimate conversations with people a lot more quickly than you would with most strangers.  It allows me to not only be a pastor with my own parishioners, but everywhere I go in my collar.  It allows me to stretch the reach of the Church beyond the walls of our church.

But what I also realized when I left that shop is that talking about the need for prayer probably would not have happened had I not had on my collar.  I am constantly inviting my parishioners to have faith conversations outside the context of our community, but that day I realized how challenging that invitation can be.  A clergy collar is like an automatic ice breaker – it is an invitation for you to say, “Oh good!  Can you pray for us?!?”  But how do we break the ice without such tools?  How can I let the grocery clerk, the delivery man, or the construction worker know that I want to pray for them too – even when I am in my sweats?  How do we get beyond the perfunctory greetings and start having real conversations?  This week, I invite us all to consider how we might start such a journey toward authentic, meaningful conversations about the intersection of our individual journeys and the presence of Christ in our lives.  Know that I will be praying for us both as we figure it out!

On change…

Tags

change, control, crib, decision, encouraging, exciting, God, journey, power, trust

Photo credit:  www.slate.com/articles/double_x/the_kids/2013/07/clinical_lactation_jumps_on_the_dr_sears_bandwagon_to_say_sleep_training.html

Once upon a time, I had a parishioner complain to me, “I knew you were going to change things.  I just didn’t know it was going to be all at once!”  At the time, her complaint seemed unwarranted to me.  I did not feel that the changes were all at once at all.  In fact, I was careful not to change things all at once, but made changes slowly and methodically.  Though we talked through her concerns, I remember thinking flippantly that no one really likes change and perhaps that was the real source of her complaint.

This week, I have a lot more sympathy for that parishioner.  My family’s life has been upended by change.  Most of the change has been good – new jobs, new schools, and a new home.  There has been a flurry of activity, and the excitement of a move has carried us through.  Of course, I had forgotten how hard and time-consuming unpacking can be.  I also totally forgot that our young children would be having their own reactions to the move.  But we hit a breaking point Sunday night.  Our two-year-old decided it would be a great time to finally figure out how to get out of her crib.  So for about two hours we went back and forth trying to figure out ways to cajole her into going to sleep.  Of course, the developmental milestone of getting out of one’s crib was to be expected.  But that change on top of everything else made me want to cry, “I knew things were going to change.  But does it have to be all at once?!?”

The truth is, I do not think that the pace of change really matters.  I think what really matters is who gets to make the decision about the change.  When we are making changes ourselves or when we have control over the decision among a group, change does not feel so unsettling.  By having decision-making authority, we feel some modicum of control over the situation.  But when someone else is making decisions that impact us and that change what we are used to, we feel powerless, even if the change is for the better.

Having had the experience with my two-year-old, I am reminded of my need to be sensitive to others’ feelings about change and control as I begin a new pastoral relationship at Hickory Neck Episcopal Church.  Knowing how it feels to have everything changing at once, I will try to be more intentional about communicating, educating, and getting buy-in.  Change is most certainly coming – for me and for the community.  My hope is that we can love one another through the change and trust God and one another in the process.  There will be times when change feels like it is happening all at once.  But there will also be moments when we look back and say, “I guess that wasn’t so bad!  In fact, it was really good.”  Here’s to an exciting, supportive, and encouraging journey!