I pray that the God who breathed the breath of life into humanity, who listens to eir children, who even sent a messiah into this world to proclaim eir love, who came back after being murdered and said, "Tend my sheep" (love my people), can be felt in the world today. There is so much tragedy, so much heartache, and I just pray that people are able to sense God's love despite the tragedy of human sin. I fully believe that God weeps with us, and laments with us. I believe God holds all those who can barely breathe because of grief in eir loving hands. I believe that God does not cause tragedy, unfortunately humans have the power to do great evil, but God will always be there for the wounded after tragedy strikes.
I cannot say what should or should not be done after tragedy, but I do hope that people can find God despite the carnage and the wreckage. If they need to, I pray that people are able to take their anger and deepest grief to God. If they need to scream and yell at God, I pray that they are allowed to do so. I believe that God can take their words and I know God will still hold them when the anger leads to sobbing. From the depths of despair, the depths of Sheol, we can always cry to God.
I pray that we are able to give our responses to tragedy over to God, and somehow God can redeem acts of despicable human violence. That is what I pray for our world today.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
My Christian Education Rant
I was talking with a friend about issues within the church universal. The subject quickly turned to the devaluation of young people in the church. Now I'm not talking about the need to have young adult representatives or youth representatives involved in church functions. I've been there and done that, and most of the time I had to wonder, "Am I here because of my age or am I here because I can really help you out?" and the answer was usually that I was young. (Side note: Have you ever noticed that the younger you are at a church meeting, the more attention you get? It's usually not the kind of attention where people are honestly taking in your ideas, critiquing and incorporating them if they benefit the church, it's usually the "oh my gosh, someone under 40's actually here" kind of attention) I'm talking about the refusal of the church to do real Biblical studies with their young members. Of course, the church has a hard time doing real Biblical studies with their adults, but that's why I think it's especially important to do them with the youngest among us. Somehow we think that youth want to watch DVDs where random people talk to them about "issues" and maybe give them a piece of scripture to tie everything together. Youth group often devolves into "Let's play games and do a morality lesson so we can be better people". That's not going to grow our church or create authentic disciples. Give the kids scripture, give them the conflicts of the texts. I think youth Sunday School should look a lot more like my Old Testament class and a lot less like goof off hour. It should be engaging, they should be diving in, learning about conflicts in the texts, looking at extra-Biblical sources and trying to figure out what this God they worship actually looks like. Of course that involves training teachers, so there'd have to be a commitment of the adults involved in our youth programs to study and struggle themselves, but there's no reason why they couldn't do that right along with the kids. It would have to involve someone actually putting out a decent Bible study program or the priest/pastor getting involved and using the Biblical knowledge they accrued in seminary, but I think it could be beautiful. Imagine if what was taught in the seminary classroom was commonly taught in our churches, in our Sunday School classrooms, to our teenagers and young adults. What if people knew what modern Biblical studies scholarship actually said about the Bible? What if it was actually relevant to how the church operated?
Now, I say this, but I'm not a youth person. I don't know much about working with youth or anything like that. Also, I don't think I'd necessarily be the most effective at implimenting a change in our Christian Educational system. All I know is that if we want to have effective and relevant disciples of Christ, we need to teach people about the God they follow and the Bible they read. We might as well start with the young ones, because if they don't find relevance in the church in their younger years, they probably won't be around when they're older.
Now, I say this, but I'm not a youth person. I don't know much about working with youth or anything like that. Also, I don't think I'd necessarily be the most effective at implimenting a change in our Christian Educational system. All I know is that if we want to have effective and relevant disciples of Christ, we need to teach people about the God they follow and the Bible they read. We might as well start with the young ones, because if they don't find relevance in the church in their younger years, they probably won't be around when they're older.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Becoming Episcopalian
I am officially becoming part of the Episcopal communion on Sunday and I assume that many people are curious about this new development in my life. Why on earth am I leaving the United Methodist Church and becoming Episcopalian? Am I really making the right decision? First I'd like to say, I've asked myself those questions over and over again. They make me stop and ponder what it is that God is doing in my life right now.
I guess I always assumed I'd be United Methodist forever. I was a third generation United Methodist, it connected me to my grandparents on both sides, and I was proud of that fact. I was an active church member, I was an intern at my church, I served my Annual Conference, I was a leader. Why would I leave something I knew so well and had a passion for?
I can say this: I'm not leaving because I have a major problem with the church. There were no fights, no heated discussions that turned me away. I am not leaving out of anger or malice. I'm leaving partially because I think the denominational structure is too big. I love the congregation I was a part of and the Annual Conference I was a part of, but I disagree with having large overarching structure that puts out a Book of Discipline and tries to run an effective and efficient church in that manner. I think that the system has become cumbersome and has held back church progress. That's not to say that I don't believe that churches should be structured and organized, I am after all joining a church with bishops and a loose national structure, I just think the global structure of the United Methodist Church is too rigid. It doesn't allow for regional differences in belief systems within the global church. Who is to say that rules about how to structure your church that comes from white middle class Americans really works for the African church? As I looked more into the structure and system of the national and global United Methodist Church, I began to seriously question whether following one Book of Discipline was really something that was best for the church. I began to also seriously doubt if I could connect myself with the Book of Discipline in my own personal ministry life. There were some rules that I simply did not feel comfortable with, and I am not going to go against rules and regulations set out by my church. I am not a rebel, I cannot knowingly break rules. It makes me uncomfortable and makes me feel guilty. And I kept thinking questions like, "What if one day my friends want me to officiate their wedding and I have to say no because they are a same sex couple?" It would break my heart and I questioned whether I could stand in a United Methodist pulpit after something like that happened.
All that being said, those are the reasons why I began to question the United Methodist Church. They are not the reason why I'm becoming Episcopalian. That was a much more natural thing, something that began the first week of seminary and has progressed since then. It all began the first week of orientation with a friendship. Since I have not asked his permission to mention him on my blog, I shall call him "D". D is an Episcopal Studies student and we became close friends fast. One Sunday he took me to his favorite Episcopal Church in town, and I was struck by the liturgy and the emphasis on Eucharist. I enjoyed the service. So when D asked me if I wanted to go to the Evensong service at school, of course I said yes. Things progressed and soon I was hanging out with Episcopal students and Br. K, the abbot of an order of monks in town invited me over to the monk house. As soon as I started doing complines with the monks, I was sold. I loved how everything was so scripturally based and so meaningful. I of course resisted the idea of becoming Episcopal every step of the way. I was United Methodist, it was part of my heritage. But the more I was at Episcopal services and doing the daily offices, the more I needed it. The liturgy and eucharist soothes my soul. The use of scripture in almost every aspect of the service is enriching and enlivens me. I walk away nourished. When I talked to one of the Episcopal bishops, I learned about a church that isn't as structured denominationally and has a lot of leeway and freedom within each diocese to do as they see proper within their context. This both terrifies me and excites me. So I'm joining the Episcopal Studies program at school and I'm joining the Episcopal church. It's honestly one of the scariest decisions I've ever made, but I am so happy with it. I can't wait to be a priest, to preside over the table, to lead people in morning prayer. I am free to be me, and I am in a church structure that supports me. That's why I'm becoming Episcopalian.
I guess I always assumed I'd be United Methodist forever. I was a third generation United Methodist, it connected me to my grandparents on both sides, and I was proud of that fact. I was an active church member, I was an intern at my church, I served my Annual Conference, I was a leader. Why would I leave something I knew so well and had a passion for?
I can say this: I'm not leaving because I have a major problem with the church. There were no fights, no heated discussions that turned me away. I am not leaving out of anger or malice. I'm leaving partially because I think the denominational structure is too big. I love the congregation I was a part of and the Annual Conference I was a part of, but I disagree with having large overarching structure that puts out a Book of Discipline and tries to run an effective and efficient church in that manner. I think that the system has become cumbersome and has held back church progress. That's not to say that I don't believe that churches should be structured and organized, I am after all joining a church with bishops and a loose national structure, I just think the global structure of the United Methodist Church is too rigid. It doesn't allow for regional differences in belief systems within the global church. Who is to say that rules about how to structure your church that comes from white middle class Americans really works for the African church? As I looked more into the structure and system of the national and global United Methodist Church, I began to seriously question whether following one Book of Discipline was really something that was best for the church. I began to also seriously doubt if I could connect myself with the Book of Discipline in my own personal ministry life. There were some rules that I simply did not feel comfortable with, and I am not going to go against rules and regulations set out by my church. I am not a rebel, I cannot knowingly break rules. It makes me uncomfortable and makes me feel guilty. And I kept thinking questions like, "What if one day my friends want me to officiate their wedding and I have to say no because they are a same sex couple?" It would break my heart and I questioned whether I could stand in a United Methodist pulpit after something like that happened.
All that being said, those are the reasons why I began to question the United Methodist Church. They are not the reason why I'm becoming Episcopalian. That was a much more natural thing, something that began the first week of seminary and has progressed since then. It all began the first week of orientation with a friendship. Since I have not asked his permission to mention him on my blog, I shall call him "D". D is an Episcopal Studies student and we became close friends fast. One Sunday he took me to his favorite Episcopal Church in town, and I was struck by the liturgy and the emphasis on Eucharist. I enjoyed the service. So when D asked me if I wanted to go to the Evensong service at school, of course I said yes. Things progressed and soon I was hanging out with Episcopal students and Br. K, the abbot of an order of monks in town invited me over to the monk house. As soon as I started doing complines with the monks, I was sold. I loved how everything was so scripturally based and so meaningful. I of course resisted the idea of becoming Episcopal every step of the way. I was United Methodist, it was part of my heritage. But the more I was at Episcopal services and doing the daily offices, the more I needed it. The liturgy and eucharist soothes my soul. The use of scripture in almost every aspect of the service is enriching and enlivens me. I walk away nourished. When I talked to one of the Episcopal bishops, I learned about a church that isn't as structured denominationally and has a lot of leeway and freedom within each diocese to do as they see proper within their context. This both terrifies me and excites me. So I'm joining the Episcopal Studies program at school and I'm joining the Episcopal church. It's honestly one of the scariest decisions I've ever made, but I am so happy with it. I can't wait to be a priest, to preside over the table, to lead people in morning prayer. I am free to be me, and I am in a church structure that supports me. That's why I'm becoming Episcopalian.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Clinging to the Creator
I've been doing a lot of soul searching and questioning recently. My question to God always remain the same, over and over I ask, "Where are you leading me?" and I get brief glimpses, but I'm really not sure where my life is headed. I cling to my creator.
I've noticed that in times when I'm really lost, really wondering what is going on, I tend to cling extra hard. The music in my car changes from today's hit music to Newsboys and Aaron Schust, I search diligently for a decent Christian radio station. Prayer time becomes not only necessary, but increasingly more frequent. It's not enough to read scripture and pray once a day, I need it several times a day. If I can go to a worship service, I do, and I fret on the days when there's not one available to me, wishing and hoping for community and guidance. I just can't get enough. I'm at one of those places right now, where I just want to take in Christ and find some sort of answer. I search diligently for guidance, I long for it. I can feel Christ's presence, but I can't find a firm answer. It's a weird mixture of comfort in the creator and dis-ease in my spirit. I search, I hope, I long. I wait. And I wait. I know the answer will not come tomorrow, I know it will not come the next day, so I cling with all my might to my creator, redeemer, and sustainer. I cling, and I wait.
It's a hard lesson, learning to wait, learning to find comfort in the clinging. I pray for some voice of revelation, something that will make my path clear and fill me with renewed vigor. But right now, I must cling. I must hope. I must search. Someday my path will be made clear, but it will not be today. It will not be tomorrow. It may not even be next week, next month or next year. I must simply learn to use all my spiritual tools to cling to my creator, for I am not abandoned, my prayers are heard, they are simply answered with, "Patience my child, cling a little longer."
I've noticed that in times when I'm really lost, really wondering what is going on, I tend to cling extra hard. The music in my car changes from today's hit music to Newsboys and Aaron Schust, I search diligently for a decent Christian radio station. Prayer time becomes not only necessary, but increasingly more frequent. It's not enough to read scripture and pray once a day, I need it several times a day. If I can go to a worship service, I do, and I fret on the days when there's not one available to me, wishing and hoping for community and guidance. I just can't get enough. I'm at one of those places right now, where I just want to take in Christ and find some sort of answer. I search diligently for guidance, I long for it. I can feel Christ's presence, but I can't find a firm answer. It's a weird mixture of comfort in the creator and dis-ease in my spirit. I search, I hope, I long. I wait. And I wait. I know the answer will not come tomorrow, I know it will not come the next day, so I cling with all my might to my creator, redeemer, and sustainer. I cling, and I wait.
It's a hard lesson, learning to wait, learning to find comfort in the clinging. I pray for some voice of revelation, something that will make my path clear and fill me with renewed vigor. But right now, I must cling. I must hope. I must search. Someday my path will be made clear, but it will not be today. It will not be tomorrow. It may not even be next week, next month or next year. I must simply learn to use all my spiritual tools to cling to my creator, for I am not abandoned, my prayers are heard, they are simply answered with, "Patience my child, cling a little longer."
Monday, November 5, 2012
Patterns and Well Worn Tapes
I've been spending a great deal of time around the monk house recently, and I've noticed my old thought patterns have started to pop up. Pulling up to the house today, I thought, "Maybe I'm spending too much time here...Maybe they don't really like me that much...Maybe I'm a burden to them..." Thoughts like this were once part of my daily life, something that even a year ago would keep me from asking a friend to hang out or going to an event. They were never debilitating thoughts, I still had friends and connections, but I would never spend more than a few hours a week with any given person.
Now I'm spending quite a bit of time around the same people, and the thought patterns have started playing again in my mind. They are the well worn tapes of a person who spent a good chunk of their life distrusting their self. I don't pay them much credence anymore, but they still echo in the back of my mind.
I wonder what it would be like if they were not there. Who would I have been closer to if it were not for these tapes? How would my life be different? But then I realize that there is nothing wrong with my life now, that I have been brought by the grace of God to the place I need to be. I just have to keep remembering that the tapes of my yester-years are not the tapes I choose to play today. They echo, but they do not define. Instead I set my life to a new tune, a new tape that I hope to etch into my brain, "You're a good person. Trust yourself."
Now I'm spending quite a bit of time around the same people, and the thought patterns have started playing again in my mind. They are the well worn tapes of a person who spent a good chunk of their life distrusting their self. I don't pay them much credence anymore, but they still echo in the back of my mind.
I wonder what it would be like if they were not there. Who would I have been closer to if it were not for these tapes? How would my life be different? But then I realize that there is nothing wrong with my life now, that I have been brought by the grace of God to the place I need to be. I just have to keep remembering that the tapes of my yester-years are not the tapes I choose to play today. They echo, but they do not define. Instead I set my life to a new tune, a new tape that I hope to etch into my brain, "You're a good person. Trust yourself."
Friday, October 26, 2012
Deny Youself
I was at a meeting at the monk house the other night, and as we were discussing the Philokalia, a Bible verse popped up that had always bothered me. It was Matthew 16:24, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."
In the past I felt that this verse was convicting me to deny and give up parts of myself that didn't fit into societal expectations to better follow Christ. I took the parts of me that didn't seem acceptable, and tried to hand them back to God. I ended up damaging myself because the personality traits and quirks that I didn't think I should have really didn't go away, I just began to shove them under the mask of a "good Christian". Nobody said I had to do this, or that it was best to be a certain way, I was just uncomfortable with me.
I shared this, and then my friend began to share this verse in a way that was brand new to me. He started at the point, "take up their cross". Our crosses are the selves that God has gifted to us. They are our unique personalities and convictions. They are the people God made us to be. Jesus didn't die on the cross because he was the perfect model Christian, he died on a cross because he refused to give up the person that God made him to be. He was authentically himself to the end. In the same way, we should take up our crosses, refusing to be any less than the people God calls us to be. We are to remain true to ourselves and our God to the end.
The phrase "deny theirselves" or more personally, "deny yourself" then is not about giving up your personality that was given to you. It's about stripping off the masks, about releasing those things that hold us back from being kingdom builders for our creator. It's about refusing to simply try to fit into what society tells us we should be. We have to look to God and wrestle our demons, we have to fight for our authenticity. We have to deny the trap of trying to become who we "should" be, and instead strive to become who we were created to be. "For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?" (Matt 16:26)
This was a healing moment for me. I was brought into a text that I had used to wound myself before and it became a text that I could embrace. It became something that spoke to my experiences and my hopes. I have been striving to truly find my authentic self and speak to my truths, and while God has always been a major part of that journey, I didn't have a sense that Jesus had ever really talked about this. Now I can look to the Gospels and see Jesus speaking these words as well as others to me. It brings me closer to Christ.
In the past I felt that this verse was convicting me to deny and give up parts of myself that didn't fit into societal expectations to better follow Christ. I took the parts of me that didn't seem acceptable, and tried to hand them back to God. I ended up damaging myself because the personality traits and quirks that I didn't think I should have really didn't go away, I just began to shove them under the mask of a "good Christian". Nobody said I had to do this, or that it was best to be a certain way, I was just uncomfortable with me.
I shared this, and then my friend began to share this verse in a way that was brand new to me. He started at the point, "take up their cross". Our crosses are the selves that God has gifted to us. They are our unique personalities and convictions. They are the people God made us to be. Jesus didn't die on the cross because he was the perfect model Christian, he died on a cross because he refused to give up the person that God made him to be. He was authentically himself to the end. In the same way, we should take up our crosses, refusing to be any less than the people God calls us to be. We are to remain true to ourselves and our God to the end.
The phrase "deny theirselves" or more personally, "deny yourself" then is not about giving up your personality that was given to you. It's about stripping off the masks, about releasing those things that hold us back from being kingdom builders for our creator. It's about refusing to simply try to fit into what society tells us we should be. We have to look to God and wrestle our demons, we have to fight for our authenticity. We have to deny the trap of trying to become who we "should" be, and instead strive to become who we were created to be. "For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?" (Matt 16:26)
This was a healing moment for me. I was brought into a text that I had used to wound myself before and it became a text that I could embrace. It became something that spoke to my experiences and my hopes. I have been striving to truly find my authentic self and speak to my truths, and while God has always been a major part of that journey, I didn't have a sense that Jesus had ever really talked about this. Now I can look to the Gospels and see Jesus speaking these words as well as others to me. It brings me closer to Christ.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Lessons in Community
When I moved to Lincoln, I knew what I wanted. An education, of course, but more importantly I wanted to reboot my life, to find myself, to become comfortable with who I was and where I was headed in life. I accomplished a lot of that in my three years there. I left with a new life and a hope that I would not crumble as I stepped out into the unknown territory of Atlanta, Georgia.
I am still not 100% certain why it is that I had to move to Atlanta though. I don't know exactly what drew me to this place. It was the silent tug of God that brought me here, and even though I fought it, I'm glad I'm here. But I've been trying to figure out what it is I'm supposed to learn here. What great growth spurts do I have to go through? I know I'm here for an education, but I am in this specific setting for something bigger.
I'm starting to think that maybe God is teaching me about community. I laugh now, but I was scared to death when I moved here. I was afraid I wouldn't find a support system, that I would be alone in a strange land with no one to care for me. Instead, I have found more support and love than I even thought imaginable. I am surrounded by people who love me for who I am. I know I had community like that before, but I was too broken to realize it was there or trust that it would really help me in my time of need. I had felt like an outsider within my own friend groups before, and now I feel like a full member.
Recently I have been hanging out with a group of Anglican monks and they are teaching me a lot about what it means to be in Christian community. I see the bonds that have formed through living life together. There is a connectedness in that group.The morning and evening prayers I have experienced in their house have been some of the most intimate moments that I have had with God since I got here. They have been two or three brothers and myself in the altar room of their house, but I have felt the touch of God in some of those moments, the connection that brings all life together and unifies us as siblings in Christ. It has begun to help me see the communal identity of the body of Christ.
While the idea of the communal body of Christ might seem high and lofty, something idyllically beautiful, it's really just sharing life together. It's opening up a little bit when you've had a bad day, it's sitting in silence and studying together, it's laughing and sighing as someone breaks yet another dish. It's letting everybody be themselves, and letting each person's gifts bless community as a whole. That is communal life, and that is a beautiful life.
I can only hope and wait to learn more about community and life together as I grow over the next few years.
I am still not 100% certain why it is that I had to move to Atlanta though. I don't know exactly what drew me to this place. It was the silent tug of God that brought me here, and even though I fought it, I'm glad I'm here. But I've been trying to figure out what it is I'm supposed to learn here. What great growth spurts do I have to go through? I know I'm here for an education, but I am in this specific setting for something bigger.
I'm starting to think that maybe God is teaching me about community. I laugh now, but I was scared to death when I moved here. I was afraid I wouldn't find a support system, that I would be alone in a strange land with no one to care for me. Instead, I have found more support and love than I even thought imaginable. I am surrounded by people who love me for who I am. I know I had community like that before, but I was too broken to realize it was there or trust that it would really help me in my time of need. I had felt like an outsider within my own friend groups before, and now I feel like a full member.
Recently I have been hanging out with a group of Anglican monks and they are teaching me a lot about what it means to be in Christian community. I see the bonds that have formed through living life together. There is a connectedness in that group.The morning and evening prayers I have experienced in their house have been some of the most intimate moments that I have had with God since I got here. They have been two or three brothers and myself in the altar room of their house, but I have felt the touch of God in some of those moments, the connection that brings all life together and unifies us as siblings in Christ. It has begun to help me see the communal identity of the body of Christ.
While the idea of the communal body of Christ might seem high and lofty, something idyllically beautiful, it's really just sharing life together. It's opening up a little bit when you've had a bad day, it's sitting in silence and studying together, it's laughing and sighing as someone breaks yet another dish. It's letting everybody be themselves, and letting each person's gifts bless community as a whole. That is communal life, and that is a beautiful life.
I can only hope and wait to learn more about community and life together as I grow over the next few years.
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