Friday, February 2, 2018

How Do I Love Me?

Most of us have a longing to feel close to God during worship and to do that, we must be emotionally open.  Our walls must come down in order to let the Spirit penetrate our souls.  That is a very scary proposition for many, especially those wounded by their church experience.  It’s one of the reasons that people cry in church when they can’t cry elsewhere.  It’s one of the reasons people who are struggling actually don’t come to church sometimes because they can’t hide their pain at the same time as being open to God.  This is why it is so important to create cultures of safety and vulnerability in our churches by truly knowing each other, with all our faults and shortcomings, in great love and mercy. 

As I prepare to take some Sabbath time from my ministry, I keep reminding myself that it is okay to rest and be still.  For most of my life, rest was only deserved after everything else was completed.  Being still could only happen as a reward for work done.  Looking back, I see it was a coping mechanism for my depression; get through everything that was expected of me and then I could reward myself somehow.  It kept me moving forward when I wanted to crumble.  Over the years, supervisors have told me, “be kind to yourself.”  I never had a clue what that meant.  Get a manicure?  Take a vacation?  Be still with God.  That is the answer and it’s taken me many, many years to accept it. 

Walking with others on their faith journeys requires my full presence and all of my emotions.  There is no way to fake this ministry. To nurture the divine in others, I have to nurture the divine in myself and I have to take care of my soul as a top priority, not a last one.   So as I ponder the necessity and hopes for my downtime, I am trying to make peace with being kind to myself first.  God worked for seven days and then rested.  I think too often we stretch that “work and then rest” model to the breaking point, well beyond seven days.  For my own spiritual health, I find that I need daily Sabbath time as well as extended Sabbath time to stay connected with the Spirit and to be able to be fully present with others.  I am continually amazed at how God’s peace is with me when I love myself first.  Even a few minutes of meditation and beautiful music before diving into my day is transformational.  And the more simple I am about it, the more I feel God’s presence. 

I recently had an exchange with someone about grace.  Her perspective was that God’s grace transforms us – allows us to kick a drug addiction or the like – essentially improve.  This was a wake-up call to me.  I have never viewed grace in this way.  From what I see in my ministry, grace shows us how to love ourselves and others more.  When I invite others into Christian community, it is not an invitation to become better people but an invitation to experience compassion for ourselves and others.  When we encourage each other to be transformed, it is not to do better or be better, but to simply love more.  The premise that we need to go to church to “keep us on the straight and narrow” or to “be the best version of ourselves” is shallow theology. 

Jesus tried to boil it down for us:  Love yourself and love others.  And it had nothing to do with being good enough.  He consistently modeled loving those who were despised.  So, as we Christians work to change the world, let us remember that each of us deserves love and rest.  Our churches do not exist to improve anyone but to teach us how to see the divine in all people with great love and mercy. 

How can you prepare to love others more by loving yourself today?  And not because you feel you deserve it but because God is waiting to sit with you and love you unconditionally.  

Monday, January 15, 2018

Theatre Evangelism

I only perform in live theatre every few years now but there was a time when I would appear in three to four shows a year.  During that time, I would invite anyone and everyone to come and typically groups from my day jobs would attend.  I called it “theatre evangelism.”  Little did I know that my vocation would be Christian evangelism all these years later.  I invited people to the theatre with abandon.  Whether the show was dramatic or comedic, there was real emotion experienced by all of us through the magic of live theatre – a connection that crossed all sorts of lines - and that is truly what I was inviting others to experience.  

As we observe the birthday of the civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. in the US, I am struck by how incredibly relevant his words are today.  I am also reminded of Dr. Bren√© Brown’s recent book, Braving the Wilderness, where she talks about dehumanization which is the process by which our natural inhibitions against harming others of our species are removed.  Dehumanization starts with language and moves to images, creating an enemy or less-than-human status of others.  This tragically allows entire groups of people to be morally excluded from (or undeserving of) humane treatment.  This happened in the 1850’s, the 1960’s and it’s happening now to immigrants, refugees, the LGTBQ community, the poor, victims of sexual assault.  The list goes on and on.  Dehumanization makes things like discrimination, genocide, human trafficking, and indifference possible.  When you start hearing human beings described in callous language and that language being accepted and defended, dehumanization is in process.

Back to the theatre.  As I get ready to perform, I spend time letting go of my own reality and stepping into the shoes of the Jewish New York art dealer I will portray.  I keep a picture of myself and my onstage husband framed on my dressing table to remind me of my new identity, if only an identity that lasts a few hours.  It is an exercise in self-denial like we are called to do every day: step into the shoes of others and focus less on ourselves.  I believe this is what Jesus was talking about when he said those who lose their lives for my sake, will live.  I don’t think he was only talking about literally dying although some have died as they denied themselves for the sake of others, which is really for the sake of Christ. 

How do we change this tide of dehumanization that is sweeping our society?  There is more slavery in the world now than during Civil War times.  In 2016, 80% of districts reflected landslide victories for Trump or Clinton.  That means people are more ideologically segregated in the US than ever before in history.  Dr. Brown tells us to resist insulating ourselves in bunkers of likeminded people.  She cautions that being united by hating the same people is not true connection and it breeds moral exclusion.  We must be united by collective experiences of pain and joy that cross all lines.  It can be as profound as disaster relief or as simple as laughing together at live theatre.  It helps us see the humanity in all people.  

The theatre is a place where I find collective experiences of pain and joy – both from the entertainment itself and the community that is built in the process.  The practice of considering someone else’s motives, thoughts, pains, joys, and experiences is an exercise in self-denial.  There are also very clear boundaries about each person’s role and contribution.  You may have heard the old saying, “there are no small parts, only small actors.”  Everyone has a piece of the production and without their piece, the whole doesn’t work.  No one’s contribution is more important than the other, much like the body of Christ.  All have value.

Can you resist dehumanization and invite others to share experiences of collective joy or be present with others in their collective pain?  You might just end up being an evangelist, too.  

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Broken but Hopeful

I describe my faith like this:  a basket full of beliefs and doubts, carried by God.  The doubts are not about whether I believe scripture is true or if there is a God but more about my own doubt in being able to trust that God is listening, He is engaged, and will act.  That is one reason I write this blog: it’s important for me to pay attention when I see God’s hand at work in the world.  It reassures me in my times of doubt. And one of my doubts is usually that God will give me anything to write!  I know – it’s silly.    

This past year has been particularly challenging for me.  I see the world becoming more broken by sin.  Jesus tried to open our minds to the concept that we all are one people – that no matter how different we may seem, we are one in the Lord.  And for me, that means that as a Christian, all people, even the non-Christians, are precious and held in the Lord’s loving arms. Maybe it is only my perspective but I see a more individualistic culture becoming the norm.  I see sin (separation from God) manifesting in our world as a lack of concern for the poor, dehumanization of certain groups, disdain for experiences different than our own, and the use of religion as a weapon.  This pains me greatly and so this past year, I have struggled to keep my depression under control and avoid cynicism.

Thank God, literally, He continues to act and show me even in my doubts, that my belief in an all-encompassing, world-changing, no qualifications required LOVE is still truth.  One thing that my experiences of divine love have in common is that I was open to it – emotionally available and physically available.  It would have been so much easier to pull the covers over my head and never leave the house. 

One day during staff meeting, a mother and daughter stopped in to join us for prayers before her daughter’s surgery.  We laid hands on her as we prayed.  For me, when I touch other people during prayer, I get an intense physical sensation that runs through my body which I believe is the Holy Spirit.  This particular day, it was so intense that I nearly collapsed.  Broken but hopeful.

Recently, a group of us went to the local Mosque for their Open Mosque Day – an opportunity to meet as neighbors, as one in the Lord.  They invited us to an instructed call to prayer.  When I heard the call to prayer, in a language I didn’t know, the Holy Spirit shot through me and I felt that this call to the divine was ancient and preceded our time of division.  Tears came to my eyes.  I have no intention of converting to Islam but that day was a lesson for me.  Not only is the Holy Spirit present everywhere but as I am committed to supporting their spiritual expression, I need to support those Christian expressions of faith with which I disagree.  Broken but hopeful. 

After Hurricane Harvey, a group of us delivered lunch to relief workers in various neighborhoods.  It would have been more convenient for me to go by myself since the neighborhood was close to mine but a parishioner suggested we go together which meant I arrived back at the church where a woman had been waiting.  She asked if the church was open because she needed to pray.  It was locked but I was happy to let her in.  We prayed together and shared our flood stories.  When I saw her recently at St. Mary’s Fall Gift Market, we both said we were doing better now and she was surprised when I remembered her name.  We shared a Holy Spirit moment; I will never forget her.  Broken but hopeful. 

One of my beliefs is that of free will.  God has the ultimate power to act but we have free will to make ourselves available or to pull the covers over our heads and protect our hearts.  While I cannot control everything, I also don’t believe that God is controlling everything.  He gave us the ability to choose.  We have 31,102 verses in the Bible that encourage us to choose love.  What is keeping you from making yourself available to God?

Monday, July 24, 2017

Wade in the Water

In my ministry, people often ask if they will need to get baptized again to become a member of St. Mary’s.  If you have been baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, then the answer is no.  We don’t baptize people into the Episcopal Church; we baptize them into the body of Christ - the body of Christ that spans people, denominations, and countries around the globe.  We don’t think we’re the only ones going to heaven. 

I was baptized when I was five years old.  As I stood at the front of Trinity Episcopal Church in Minnetonka, Minnesota, I distinctly remember my little kindergarten mind thinking, “Something big is happening to me right now.”  Years later, I confirmed my baptismal vows. I didn’t know at the time how important those vows would become to me as I grew in my faith.  There is more to them but I’m most thoughtful right now about the vows to “seek and serve Christ in all persons” and “respect the dignity of every human being.” 

After a quick search of baptism liturgies for the other mainline traditions, none of them include the vows above.  This speaks volumes about the way the Episcopal Church sees baptism – not as only something to be received but as a commitment to a way of life and not just study, prayer, and resisting evil but seeing Christ in every person.  That is a high bar.  Additionally, we promise to strive for justice which means we work to dismantle the structures that cause suffering - no small thing.

Another question I get is about “the rules.”  This question makes me squirm a little bit because I usually feel my answer is inadequate.  Growing up in the Episcopal tradition was never about following rules to express your faith.  I was taught to try to emulate Jesus and get as close to God as I could and listen for the Spirit’s direction.  We believe we are saved by grace and that everything necessary for salvation is contained in the Bible.  Any “rules” we have are about how to live our common life as Christians and not as criteria for inclusion, forgiveness, or worthiness. 

This does not mean that we have no expectations.  Baptism in the Episcopal Church is not a quick admission pass to heaven.  As the baptized, we receive new life in Christ and that new life should look different.  So maybe a better question to ask is:  What is it going to cost me?  This question should probably scare us to death.  Standing up for the scorned got Jesus killed.  If you live in the United States, you likely will not have to die to love like Jesus but it will cost you something.  These costs are likely related to comfort, status, wealth, or power.  What are you willing to lose to love like Jesus?

Our Baptismal Covenant, among other things, very clearly charges us to live rebellious lives.  I say rebellious because when you fully live into this Covenant, it will cause conflict.  These vows are not about maintaining the status quo. 

What sort of rebellion could we lead with two million Episcopalians in the United States striving for justice, seeing Christ in every person, and protecting the dignity of all humans?  Let’s wade into the waters of baptism and make some waves. 

For more inspiration, here is a link to one my favorite African spirituals, Wade in the Water.

Thursday, April 6, 2017

God is Good. Really.

In my ministry, I hear many stories.  It is the joy of my life to hear the stories of people who are searching for God.  Sometimes, they are full of positive experiences of dedicated pastors or youth leaders or a chance encounter that pointed them to God.  Other times, they are full of suffering caused by the words or actions of others in the name of God.  In both of these cases, these storytellers are experiencing God through other people.  That is what I want you to remember:  if you are a Christian, others are experiencing God through you.  What you do and say matters very much.

This was brought into sharp focus a few weeks ago when I went to our state capitol to advocate for equal rights for our LGBTQ citizens.  As I shared my story and listened to others, I felt others’ pain of rejection and hurt at the hands of Christians.  I experienced none of that pain in my faith story.  I was blessed to grow up in organized religion and was not been wounded by it.  The Episcopal Church has been a safe and affirming place for me.  This is not true for many Christians. 

One of the women I was chatting with mentioned she lived in a suburb south of Houston called Pearland.  I suggested that she might attend St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, that she and her family would be welcome there.  I gave her my card and told her to tell the priest I sent her.  She was so relieved to know there was someplace where they could worship just like everybody else. 

As I travel this road for LGBTQ advocacy, to work to dismantle the structures of injustice that cause suffering, I find myself in groups on Facebook and in other arenas where I hear these painful stories.  As a bartender listens to patrons’ stories of woe, so do I.  I am sort of like a “spiritual bartender.”  These stories are heartbreaking and I cannot help but be taken aback by the hate dished out in Christ’s name.  It is always shocking and I don’t think I will ever be jaded to it.

I have heard stories of parents of special needs children who for some, only felt unwelcome in worship but others who have been told their children were too disruptive to attend worship.  I have heard stories of churchgoers who were specifically pointed out and shamed from the pulpit.  The list goes on and on. 

Have I been disappointed or angered by folks in my Christian community?  Sure!  We’re a family and every family has its struggles.  I have also witnessed true forgiveness and reconciliation.  Because of my positive experience with organized religion and seeing God’s loving hand at work, I can invite others to meet Jesus with confidence.  And it is the BEST to witness someone who never thought they’d find a loving Christian community find one and realize that God does love them and he always has. 

I have offered to help anyone find an Episcopal Church (nationwide) that is accepting and affirming to all people – not only LGBTQ individuals, but all people who may have felt excluded from Christian community.  I’m inviting not from a place of naivet√© but from a place of hope.  I guess that makes me a “spiritual matchmaker.”

I truly believe that if you’ve been hurt by the Church, you need to be healed by the Church.  A gaping wound doesn’t get better by ignoring it.  The Church owes it to you to right the wrong. So keep searching for God.  He is with you every day, hoping you’ll return so he can show you how much he loves you.

And for those who carry the cross of Jesus, your words and actions matter.  Be sure you represent the generous and expansive love of Jesus - a love that others thought was so broad, so bold, so radical that he had to be stopped.  Can you throw caution to the wind and love with abandon so that others can know God loves them?

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

The Thin Line

You may recall one of my earlier posts called “Who Will Be a Witness” where I share a story of meeting a young man who had never been to church nor heard the story of Jesus and how I believed that God had put me in that place, at that moment, for that purpose.  My spiritual director simply responded with, “What if that were every moment?”  In those simple words, she opened my heart and mind to the concept that God is placing me in every moment, in every place, for his purpose.

For most of my life, I have lived my life with a hard line between the spiritual and the secular.  There was a definite difference between those two worlds.  The Episcopal Church is centered on worship, unlike other denominations who are centered on education or service.  Since we are focused on worship and worship has historically been in a building with beautiful music and intentional words, it is very different than other experiences of my week.  Worship brings us together and can reset our priorities.  It can be a way we experience or hear God.  But it is only worship. 

Our curate, Rev. Alan Bentrup, reminds us that what we do on Sunday is worship and what we do out in the world is church.  Being the church, loving God, is so much bigger than showing up at church on Sunday.  If we love God, then we are doing and being as much like Christ as we can – in every part of our lives – not just Sunday. 

In the Old Testament, God gives us a clear command to worship no other Gods but him when he hands down the Ten Commandments.  Throughout the Israelites’ time in the wilderness, there was emphasis on worshiping God and observing the rules of a people set apart.  In the New Testament, Jesus reminds us to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength.  This was not new – it’s also in the Old Testament – but loving became the focus instead of the rule-following.  He also reminds us that he came for all people – not just the Jewish people who were set apart.  This was Good News to many but radically disappointing news to others.

In these fractious times, I struggle living out my Christian beliefs because I feel I need to consider how others may react to my loving all of God’s creation.  Loving our Muslim neighbors and defending the dignity of the LGBT community are as natural to me as prayer.   I also take my Baptismal Covenant seriously to strive for justice and peace.  It is not possible to compartmentalize my love to avoid ruffling feathers because my “worlds” aren’t separate anymore. 

I wonder this morning what Jesus would think about being worshiped since he came to serve and not to be served.  I wonder what he would think about our churches since the early church had no buildings to separate followers into various houses of worship.  Followers were simply in the world, sharing their witness of the love they had experienced.  In that way, there was no line between the sacred and the secular.  The church was the world – not contained in a building.  Ashes To Go was all over the news this year; this shows you how revolutionary it is to actually be the church.  This shows you how much we have insulated ourselves from God.  

Someone recently shared with me this powerful quote from Wendell Berry: “There are no sacred and unsacred places; there are only sacred and desecrated places.”  Every part of the world is God’s world and it is all sacred until we desecrate it.  How does our life protect every moment, every place, as sacred?  That every person is sacred and precious to God?  Does your life – your words and actions – reflect loving God’s world and all that is in it?  How can you make the line between you and God thinner?    

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Pressing the Reset Button

This month, it has been two years since I began working at St. Mary’s as their welcome leader.  I took a look back and remembered how I was feeling spiritually at that time.  After leaving my corporate job a month earlier, the pace of my life suddenly changed.  Going from working 75 hours a week to 40 was a huge change.  It took about three months for me to fully decompress and I noticed that I was working every day but it felt like I was on vacation.  (FYI - I also work from home doing the accounting for a law firm.)  My mother, who lives with us, said she had never seen me so relaxed.  I felt weird.  Then it hit me:  I hadn’t felt this way in probably five years.  I hadn’t truly relaxed in years.  This weird feeling was peace.

As I moved through 2015, I was able to take good care of myself and whereas before, at the end of the day, I felt completely spent, I was able to be fully present with my family in the evenings.  This blog was born and inspiration was never in short supply for words to share.  This lasted about a year or so.  Then, as my ministry expanded, I started losing this new sense of peace.  Exciting opportunities were set before me to spread the Gospel and I truly felt that everything I had done in my previous career had prepared me for this calling.  There were so many amazing moments where the Spirit was at work, but I wasn’t taking care of myself and by early 2016, my pace was frenetic and I came down with shingles.  

My spiritual director and priest kept encouraging me to answer the call to silence and stillness otherwise I might not have made it through 2016.  It was also a rough year in my parish with the April floods, including our rectory, and the loss of a three-year old child by accidental drowning.  This grief was compounded by watching a presidential candidate come to power that hurt so many.  The blog was harder to write in contrast to the year before where the words came pouring in every couple of weeks.  In my post, “Messengers,” I wrote about my experience on a silent retreat which was truly life-giving.  It was a moment of peace but not enough.  Heading into the fall in a very dark emotional place, I forged ahead. 

I continued to pray for the sense of peace to return.  I reached out to my doctors to address my depression.  We adjusted medication.  All of those things helped and in December, I started experiencing joy again.  But I wanted to feel weird again; I wanted peace.  Sometime during 2016, I had ordered a book called The Seven Whispers by Christina Baldwin.  I don’t even remember who recommended it to me and it sat unopened on my nightstand for months.  When I finally picked it up and read a couple of chapters, I was hooked on the ideas, but my “work” derailed my attempts to implement the spiritual practices.  

Fast forward to January 2017 when our women’s Wednesday fellowship agreed to do a book study on The Seven Whispers.  This last week, I decided to practice one of the concepts from the book, “moving at the pace of guidance.”   Christina says that “speed is the enemy of guidance.”  So on inauguration day, with a demanding workday ahead of me, I heard doves outside my window.  I decided to stop and sit with God in centering prayer for five minutes at the top of each hour, starting at 7 am and ending at 5 pm.  I also took a break from TV and social media.  It was transformative.  While going away on retreat has very good purpose, stopping and re-centering during the workday finally returned the peace I was missing.  I headed into an evangelism workshop I was leading on Saturday with a new calmness.

When Elijah felt that he could no longer go on, he went to the wilderness to die.  After the angel had fed him and he rested, he heard God’s voice.  He obeyed and went to Horeb where the Lord came to him.  But the Lord did not come in the rushing wind, nor the earthquake, nor the fire.  God came to him in the silence that followed.  How can you slow down and listen for God?  Is there a community that can support you in finding the peace that only God can give?

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Back to Basics - On Steroids

A thoughtful friend once told me that if people truly understood what the church was about, the church [building] would be empty.  Rev. Alan Bentrup reminded us a few weeks ago in his sermon that what we do on Sunday is not church – it’s worship.  When we leave worship and go out into the world to serve, that is church.  Church is out there.  In the Episcopal Church, whenever the Gospel is read, it is read in a location in the church that causes the congregation to face the door to remind us that we must take the Gospel out into the world.  Before anyone in church leadership panics, I wholly support attending worship on Sundays (and other days).  What we do during worship is practice for our ministry in the world, especially reconciliation.  When we “pass the peace” at church, we are not merely greeting one another with a friendly handshake.  This is a symbolic reconciling action before we go to the Lord’s table together for communion.  Of course, prior to this, we have confessed, through corporate prayer, our sins to reconcile ourselves to God.  So, after this love fest, we are sent out into the world to love others.  To love everyone, actually.  Everyone

So what does reconciliation look like if we were to take it to Monday morning?  Conversation can be useful; it can sometimes makes things worse if approached in the wrong spirit.  Listening for understanding is much different than listening to convince the other.   What if trying to dialogue with those on the opposite side isn’t worth the time other than to say let’s agree to disagree and get on with work of feeding the poor and welcoming the stranger and transforming the world. In this noisy world, we can be convinced debate and argument are essential.  The Pharisees loved to debate small points with Jesus so much so that he finally boiled it down to love God and love your neighbor.  Not much gets done while debating.  If I get caught up in what divides us, I’m using precious energy that could be used to stand up for the marginalized and persecuted.

With 900 hate incidents in the past 30 days, some of which my family and friends have experienced, I have been wondering how to reconcile with others and how to change the mean-spirited tide.  I had the answer all along:  get back to the basics of being a Christian but do so in a radical way that I have never done before. As God would have it, I attended the Evangelism Matters conference recently where Presiding Bishop Michael Curry encouraged us to live out our baptismal covenant to share the Good News and to be obedient to the Great Commission to make disciples.  This has been the root of my ministry the past two years - not church growth, not more people in the pews, not meeting a membership quota - but welcoming as Christ would. Bishop Curry's message was affirming and lifted me out of the dark place I have been in for several months.  He said we can be the church for these new times: where everyone is safe but no one is comfortable.  

My baptismal covenant gives me a very plain charge:

Will you continue in the apostle’s teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?
Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent, and return to the Lord?
Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?
Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?
Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

Baptism is not a comfy sacrament for admission into heaven.  The world is changing and being the same Christian I was last year is not responsive to the Holy Spirit.  Baptism calls us to a sacrificial way of life that requires action and discomfort on our part.  Never before have I understood so clearly that “Christian as usual” won’t cut it in this new world.  Because what the world needs now are crusaders for love that defy practicality and earthly limits.  What new way is Jesus asking you to deny yourself, take up his cross, and follow him?  

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

What Do We Do Now?

For many years when my second son was younger, I tucked him in with this prayer: “Lord, we thank you for our boy, Caleb.  We are so glad to have him in our family.  Give him sweet dreams and good rest so he can get up tomorrow and do your work and be kind to all he meets. Amen.”  I’ve been teaching my boys since they were very small to be kind even when others aren’t.  I remember Benjamin’s preschool teacher telling me that one of the other toddlers had hit him and Benjamin responded by patting him on the back and gently saying, “be nice.”  I remember another teacher telling me that a boy Benjamin had befriended had finally started opening up in class and that it meant the world to his mother that Benjamin was his friend. 

Any time my sons would mention there was a new student in school, I would ask them what they were doing to help them and it had to be specific: sit with them at lunch, introduce them to friends, walk with them in the hallway.  This was harder for Caleb since he is shy but he also reached out to others.  More than once, the invitation to Caleb’s birthday party was the only one a particular child had ever received.  He stood up for a child with a physical disability when others bullied him.  I have continued to repeat this message of embracing the stranger and the outcast to this day with my sons. 

So, when we grant power to a person who hurts others, it is startling to me.  The media said that Donald Trump insulted various populations of people.  Insulted doesn’t truly reflect what he did:  he deeply wounded people.  Remember Clayton Williams?  He was running for governor of Texas and made a flippant comment about rape and his political career was over in a split second.  Remember when David Duke, the infamous white supremacist, ran for governor of Louisiana?  The voters chose a candidate considered dishonest rather than elect a racist.  

I thought any one of these actions would have been deal breakers:
  • To call Mexicans rapists and drug dealers is deeply wounding
  • To brag about ogling half-naked, teenage girls backstage is deeply wounding
  • To mock a disabled reporter is deeply wounding
  • To joke about violating a woman’s boundaries is deeply wounding
  • To assume that all African Americans live in poverty and are unemployed is deeply wounding
  • To say that women who have abortions should be punished is deeply wounding
  • To recommend that Muslims register their religious status with the government is deeply wounding

I come from a politically active family.  I worked in campaigns from the age of 10.  I know how democracy works.  Over the years and in this past election, I voted for Democrats, Republicans, and Independents.  And while I have had serious ideological differences with some winners, I accept the election outcomes and move on.  After all, for democracy to work, it requires opposing voices and diversity of thought.  I feel very strongly that everyone should vote - not just the people that agree with me.  

To be clear, this is not about winning or losing a contest.  I am grieving the loss of my belief system.  My lifelong belief that most people are good and kind has been shaken this past week.  We all have a dark side and this election has given us permission to let out the darkness within us.  The reports of bullying, violence, and hate crimes continue to come in.  For the most part, I felt safe, physically and emotionally, in this country.  Now I am feeling that I need to protect myself from others – my fellow Americans – and that breaks my heart.  What I believed to be true changed overnight and it is going to take some time to discern what that means for me.  In my personal ministry, I must keep my heart wide open and it requires a certain vulnerability to welcome all people.  It is painful for me to be in a state where I want to close off my heart and insulate myself. 

This will take some time; grieving cannot be rushed and it doesn’t have a deadline.  I know if I invite God into my grief, he will resurrect something amazing from the suffering.  My baptismal vows require me to “strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being.”  I do not have the luxury of protecting myself forever because obedience and comfort are mutually exclusive.  My prayer is this:  Lord, show me what you want me to do to bring light into the world in a new way and grant me the courage to carry that out.  

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Coming Full Circle

As I was sitting in church last Sunday, I was struck by our altar at St. Mary’s.  It’s circular and although I’ve looked at it hundreds of times, the circle just captured my attention.  At St. Mary’s, when you kneel for communion, you are always facing others like the disciples must have done when they gathered around the table for that last supper.  Contrary to the DaVinci painting that shows all the disciples conveniently sitting in a row for our viewing pleasure, they were likely sitting around the table looking at each other.  Occasionally, smiles and nods are exchanged as we receive communion together, not as a singular act in a single file line.  We are communing. [Note: there is a beautiful stained glass window of Jesus behind that Easter banner.]

The night before, we held a special worship service in observance of National Recovery Month.  We especially wanted to reach out to those affected by addiction in all its many forms.  This Eucharist integrated the 12-Steps of recovery as defined by Alcoholics Anonymous and other such groups.  You may or may not know that the co-founder of AA wrote that nearly all the principles he later formulated into the 12-Steps were passed on to him through Dr. Sam Shoemaker, an Episcopal priest.  The Episcopal Church: steeped in tradition but always blazing a trail even back in the 1930’s. 

As I looked at the freestanding altar with its circular railing, I envisioned everyone that has gathered around that table for so many years in all their brokenness and joy.  All the different sorts of souls that have come to that circle of healing.  I was remembering a former clergy who, during a sermon, invited anyone who wished to come inside the altar rail, to lay a hand on the altar, and to see each other as Christ sees us.  It was a very moving gesture and there were some tears shed.  [I discreetly took this photo nearly a year ago.]

During the Recovery Worship on Saturday, there was a sense of healing in the church that night.  The stories were varied – some came because they are the only sober person in their family; others still struggling with their disease; others to support those touched by addiction.    One guest came after receiving the news article about the service from her mother.  She shared that her mother doesn’t speak to her; we hugged and I could feel all the pain she carried with her. 

There was wonderful music, a hopeful message, and anointing for healing.  We recited each of the 12-steps throughout the service as a sort of prayer.  Our liturgy actually reflects the 12-Steps - no surprise if you know about relationship between the founders of AA and the Episcopal church.   Step 12 is about taking the message to others as a result of your own spiritual awakening.  Likewise, each week, we are sent out to the world to serve others.  Perhaps the most healing part of the service was just the simple fact that we acknowledged this disease and the pain it causes without shaming. 

Yesterday, a thoughtful priest shared a concept of how people grow in their faith.  It was based on circles.  Jesus is at the center, then there were Peter, James, and John in the next circle.  Then the 12, then the 72, then the crowds at the outer circle.  The idea was that we likely start as one of the bystanders listening in the crowd and as we walk in our faith, we are moving toward the center of the circle towards Jesus.  And, we do that at our own pace.   
At St. Mary’s, one of our core beliefs is that we value all people and that means all people.  We welcome all to join the circle.  Years ago, when the church was built, our core values and mission were different than they are now.  But as I looked at that altar on Sunday, I thought, “we’ve grown into our altar.” 

Years ago, I didn’t know if my addicted son would make it to Christmas.  Yesterday, he turned 21 and I am inspired with the way he has turned his will and his life over to the care of God (Step 3).  A full circle, indeed.

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Build it and they will come?

I have the best job in the world.  Actually, I have several jobs but the one I’m talking about today is my job as an evangelist.  Saying job sounds sort of weird because it’s a ministry but since I am financially compensated, it qualifies as a job.  Getting to hear the stories of people who are searching for God is the BEST.  I never listen to someone share their faith journey and think, “well, that was nothing special.”  It is always special.  I heard something at Al-Anon the other night I hadn’t heard before: we are spiritual beings having a human experience, not human beings having a spiritual experience.  We are actually having an out-of-body experience every day because who we truly are is not the tangible body we inhabit.

At this time of year, schools are gearing up for a new year and churches are also getting ready for a new start.  In my own congregation and those where I consult, I hear lots of conversations around what to do and when, what we will call it, who will lead it, and the dreaded how we will get them to come to it.  I say dreaded because if we are creating ministry and have to ask the question, “how do we get them to” then we are likely creating something we want and not necessarily something that meets the needs of others. 

Many of these conversations also include a discussion of someone who created a sign-up sheet and a blurb in the weekly bulletin but no one participated.  The discussion will usually conclude with folks throwing up their hands in desperation because they just can’t figure out how to get people to do XYZ.  When this happens, I ask, “What is the need you are trying to meet?” “What are the people you serve saying they want?”  A point of clarification:  if you haven’t personally invited folks to participate, then you don’t really know what the response is because I find that absolutely nothing takes the place of personal invitation.  Mass communication plants a seed and that is all it does.

You must discern, with those you are serving, what their need is and what would meet that need.  Then you design something in response.  Through conversation with those you are serving, you will get a much better idea of 1) what ministry is needed, 2) what it should look like and 3) how it should be communicated.  Then, you are not in the business (and I say business on purpose) of getting people to do anything.  You are ministering to others. 

And that is what we are called to do.  Minister.  As Christians, we are not creating programs.  Corporations have programs.  Schools have programs.  We are not programming anyone.  We are ministering.  It hurts my heart when I hear the word program when folks are really talking about ministry.  I credit my rector, the Rev. Beth Fain, for her consistent teaching on this point.  You are not volunteering - you are serving.  It’s not a campaign - it's a mission.  For a church so focused on liturgy and language, it surprises me how often we use words that take us away from spirituality.  Anything you do to expand the kingdom and share the Good News is ministry – even updating your website or stuffing envelopes.

And what is the Good News?  Lately, I have been thinking a lot about that as I listen with holy curiosity to these messengers.  I don’t ask too many questions; I mostly listen.  I find that people aren’t so much looking for information as they are searching for affirmation that the News they are seeking isn’t crazy or weird or ridiculous.  I am finding the Good News takes many forms: forgiveness, unconditional love, healing.  It is whatever someone needs from Jesus.  Looking for Jesus is the most personal thing a person can do and however that looks is worthy.  That is why it is so important we avoid deciding for others what fruit they should bear.  In relationship, we create ministries that bring people closer to God, to meet their needs on the journey.   

If you are feeling frustrated or discouraged in your ministry, remember we are spiritual beings having a human experience.  Return to a place of discernment and ask those you serve:  What do you need?  

Friday, July 8, 2016

Right Place, Right Time

Sometimes, things just work out, you know?  They just work out.  I see God’s hand in these moments where things just amazingly work out.  And I think as Christians, we are called to point them out so that God can be praised and we can be encouraged.  That’s really what this blog is all about.

In the past month or so, I have seen over and over things just working out.  A few Sundays ago, it was my husband’s birthday.  I planned to be at all three worship services to invite parishioners to our summer Faith Dinners but with celebrating my husband’s birthday, I thought maybe someone else could go to the evening service in my place.  I reached out to a few people but they couldn’t make it.  Then, I decided not to force it and that maybe I was supposed to be there.  We scheduled my husband’s birthday celebration for lunch at a new restaurant in the area and I attended evening worship.

This particular week was the first week we changed our service time from 5:30 pm to 5:00 pm for the summer.  We had a newcomer arrive at 5:30 pm for the service and I invited her to sit by me for the remainder of the service.  When we spoke after worship, she shared with me that she had a feeling that she was supposed to come to this church for four months and that she had been diligent in watching our website and even knew who I was.  She was moved by our core belief “value all people.” 

This gentle soul took four months to walk through our doors by herself and when she did, she was 30 minutes late.  I believe there was some comfort in my presence since she knew from her research that I was the welcome leader at St. Mary’s.  And what a joy to meet her.  What I have learned over the years is that sometimes we need to be at church for someone else, not ourselves.  Right place, right time.

Another recent Sunday, I listened to a newcomer as she told me how she and her husband found St. Mary’s.  She attended our Fall Gift Market last year and when she entered the church and lit a candle, something moved her.  This past fall was the first year we opened our church during the market and posted signs welcoming people into the sanctuary to pray, meditate or light a candle.  It took many months for her to step across our threshold but she did.  I am so glad I was there to hear their sacred story.  Right place, right time.

This past week, we had a couple of newcomers arrive for worship and I helped them find a seat in the pew.  I asked a gentleman to move down a bit and make room for them and their small baby.   I noticed them all chatting after service and it warmed my heart.  As God would have it, he was sharing with them that his daughter was getting married to her partner in September which was a wonderful welcome to these two ladies who were looking for a new church home.  I did not know this background when I sat them together but God did.  Right place, right time.

We often hear that anything worth doing is not going to be easy, otherwise everyone would do it.  I don’t believe that anymore.  I find that while God takes me out of my comfort zone, that isn’t the same as my forcing things to happen or crushing all obstacles to achieve.  Sometimes, obstacles are put in our path to direct us down a different path.  Sometimes, the path of least resistance does set us free.

Where is God directing you to be?  Is there something you are trying to force that you can let go of so God can work it out?  

Monday, May 30, 2016


A couple of weeks ago, I felt like I was being called to temporarily remove myself from my daily life.  Things had been very busy with little downtime (my fault).  As the crazy making reached a crescendo, I knew silence was calling.  I have heard others say that when you answer a call to ministry, it is affirmed by others.  Well, this calling to silent retreat was affirmed by others that I consider messengers of God. 

First, our guest teacher taught an adult class about self-compassion which reminded me of “monkey brain” and the need for loving self-talk and meditation.  Next, I read a blog by my rector which said it’s good practice to choose a theme for a pilgrimage.  I thought about that and “silence and rest” came to me.  Last, I met with my spiritual director who helped me choose the right location and gave me permission to do nothing but sleep if that’s what I needed. 

I resisted the temptation to bring anything with me that resembled work, even writing thank you notes.  When the retreat center offered a massage appointment, I declined because I didn’t want to have any schedule to keep other than showing up for a meal. 

On the way to the retreat house, I saw a likely homeless man at the corner.  With no Bag of Grace to offer (this is a bag with water, snacks, etc. from St. Mary’s), I hated to ignore this man.  I had some cold water with me so I rolled down my window and asked him if he would like some water.  He said he sure would because it was getting hot already.  I asked him his name - it was Bruce.  I usually tell people I meet like this I will pray for them but similar to what happened in my earlier post, “What Does Jesus Look Like?” I couldn’t because I suddenly felt too emotional.  We chatted and I drove off with a lump in my throat for several miles. 

As I was being shown to my room at the retreat house, we passed a sign posted for an Al-Anon meeting that night at 7 pm.  I asked my guide if I could attend – yes.  That would be my one planned activity.  (Al-Anon is a support group for people affected by the addiction of a loved one.)  This had been on my list of to-do’s for some time but I hadn’t found the time or the right group. 
It was surprisingly easy to unplug.  As my brain emptied out, I slept and read and sat still.  I came around the corner of the patio to see a huge male peacock perched on a table.  He was beautiful and I remembered the peacocks that roam the neighborhood of my spiritual director.  She had told me there were peacocks at the retreat house but I had forgotten.  I watched bunnies hop and eat.  I walked the labyrinth and let the path guide me without having to think about my steps. 

That night, as I walked over to the Al-Anon meeting, the peacock perched on top of a roof as I passed by.  It seemed he was a messenger that my spiritual director was encouraging me.  Although I didn’t share, I cried more in this meeting than I have cried in any other similar support group meeting.  And I spent years in these meetings when my son was in early recovery from substance abuse.  This meeting was exactly where I needed to be.  If you are not familiar with the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, they include among other things, to turn your life and will over to God.  Al-Anon also utilizes these steps and they really apply to anyone because these steps are a pathway to God and healthy relationships with others.  As I pursue this new life in ministry, I still find it difficult to let go.  This meeting was a needed reminder, not only to trust God but to let go of my codependent concern for others, mostly my older son’s well being and behavior.  I asked for a “desire chip” which means that I made a commitment to work the program.

When I came back from retreat, I felt a great peace and noticed all the beauty around me like this beautiful passion flower that welcomed me home.  I could appreciate all the goodness again.  The weekend wrapped up by attending our older son’s five-year sobriety milestone celebration at the local Alcoholics Anonymous group - plenty of tears all around.  There were many messengers that shared their stories and reinforced my call to work the 12 Steps for my own well-being and relationship with God.   

Who are the messengers that cross your path and what is God telling you through them?

Follow this link to the 12 Steps of Alcoholic Anonymous.  If you are not in recovery, you can utilize these steps by replacing the world “alcohol” with “others.”

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

The Walking Wounded

Last week, I felt like God was trying to elbow his way into my life.  Since I have been practicing making time for quiet God time in my life, I am uncomfortable when I don’t.  When I first started creating Sabbath time, it felt uncomfortable.  To do nothing felt lazy and selfish.  Now I am finding it essential to my sense of peace.  I have been busy, busy, busy in the last few weeks which also explains my lack of blogging – no time to listen.  My husband and I both had surgery within a few weeks of each other.  I was trying to make up lost time and feeling pressured to produce.  So, as I felt God trying to wedge His way in, I was telling Him, “give me a minute.”  Days went by…

I was invited to go to North Carolina to help another evangelist spread the Good News.   This was the first time that an invitation like this required me to travel by plane.  When I arrived at the airport last Friday, I heard an announcement over the loud speaker about a chapel in the terminal and that it was open to all.  I’ve done a bit of traveling through many airports and never in my life have I heard an announcement for a chapel.  I thought, “Okay, God.  You got me.  I’m yours for the weekend.  No more putting you off.”

As I approached the chapel, there was some construction nearby but the chapel was intact.  As I sat down and pulled out my phone to open my prayer app, I heard some clanging noises from construction workers.  I was a little disappointed.  Here I was trying to have some quiet time with God and it was going to be punctuated with bangs and clangs.  Making the best of it, I started my prayers and the clanging eventually subsided.  Then later, another noise started and I remembered something my older son says – that whatever is happening is supposed to happen.  I decided to just go with it and I realized this noise was different than before - a hammer.  It was a steady and heavy hammering.  I felt like I was listening to Jesus being nailed to the cross.  I meditated about the sacrifice that Jesus made and that I should never forget it.  I had forgotten that during the past week for sure.  Right before boarding, I heard the chapel announcement again – a spiritual bookend to this morning. 

A week before, we started another Seekers Forum at St. Mary’s.  This is a small group ministry for those new to our church.  It is an exploration in relationship with others and does not require a membership commitment.  This is what I was going to share in North Carolina.  I was teaching about creating a safe place for newcomers to share their faith journey.  As I do this work, I am continually touched by the stories I hear.  It is a great honor to walk with others in this way and not one of these stories is boring.  I have never heard someone talk about seeking God and thought, “well, that was nothing special.”  These are precious testimonies filled with joy and sometimes pain.  I am struck by how persistent even the wounded are in pursuing relationship with God.  The joy part is walking with others while they heal.   It is an amazing witness to God’s healing love.

Jesus was fatally wounded by being nailed to a cross.  And when God healed Him, He didn’t return Jesus to His condition prior to death.  Jesus had scars.  Scars that were evidence of God’s healing power to everyone who saw them.  I find it so interesting that God, who can do anything, made sure to leave scars when He healed Jesus.  The only time these scars are mentioned is when the disciple Thomas asks to see them.  I am so thankful for this scripture because it shows me that God’s healing is not an undoing of the wounding but a transformation of the wounding into a testimony of God’s power.  

Is it comforting to know that even if we have been deeply wounded, we can be healed by God?  Will your scars be a witness to others of your walk with God? 

Thursday, March 24, 2016

20/20 Hindsight

As I crawled back into bed this morning after my younger son left for school, I grabbed my phone.  I clicked open my email and a devotional from Our Daily Work was already open.  The Bible verse was “Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here but has risen.”  The author went on to talk about how the women came with oils and spices to prepare Christ’s body for burial.  They did not expect a living Jesus on that third day.  This devotion was very similar to my very first post almost a year ago right after the first Sunday of Easter, “Who are you looking for?”  As a side note, I went back to find this devotional and it has disappeared but it was there this morning, reminding me of the past year.

I’ve been pondering my blog lately and feeling that I needed to go back and read all 22 posts. So, I did.   As I read them, all the emotions I felt when I wrote them came back.  Yes, there were tears.  But I also felt encouraged and comforted as I experienced these God moments again. 

I now can see a thread running through all of them:  love and trust.  God loves us unconditionally even in our imperfection and that trusting him even when afraid is required to be a follower.  These two concepts for me translate to comfort and action.  I can be personally comforted by God’s love but unless I do something with that love, take action, and risk failure, I’m hoarding God’s love for myself. 

This past year has taught me that God really is love.  It’s that simple.  We can get pretty distracted with other theology or opinion, but it’s really just about love.  Period.  If I’m going to be judged on the last day, judge me for loving too widely, accepting too broadly, welcoming with abandon.  I see that in my coaching, I am returning to love more and more and it simplifies everything. 

I see more clearly than ever that we can’t invite people to church because the church needs more members.  That we can’t welcome people to worship because we want them to stay.  That we can’t connect people to ministry because we need a fourth person on that usher team. 

We must invite, welcome, and connect from the theology of love – a love that is bigger than we can comprehend.  We invite people to church because Jesus commanded us to make disciples.  We welcome people to worship because Jesus said when we welcome a stranger we are welcoming Him.  We connect people to ministry because God has given them a gift to be used for His purpose. 

When we engage targets or goals or tactics, we leave the love place and go to the head place.  God gave us intellect to learn but the heart is what gives us life, as individuals and as a community.  Jesus was a skilled teacher but acted out of love. 

When you intellectually look back at this past year, what has God taught you?  What do these lessons tell you about your personal call to action?  Go with God and go with your heart.     

As I approach the one-year anniversary of The Right Hand, I want to thank everyone who has read it and encouraged me.  I never dreamed that my writings would be read in 20+ countries.  I find a few things interesting:  the most popular post is  “An Invitation to the Wounded.”  Also, I have the most readers in the US, of course, but second is Ukraine, followed by Russia.  There is so much more to all of these stories but I tried to share only highlights.  I look forward to sharing another year of witness with you.