30 years ago today...

rules are/not made to be broken

It is no longer cool for clergy to live separate from the world. After several decades of ministers hanging out with folks and trying to make church a friendlier place, church leadership have been absorbed into the world. They have tried to weaken the historical ropes separating laity and clergy. Youth leaders do all they can to get onto students' levels, pastors unbutton their collar, and people try to jazz up the worship space. Though attempting to be helpful, they/we have compromised much; often settling for less-than in hopes that people would grow into the more uncomfortable pieces of Christian life. Initially we might have been accused of false advertising, but now our habits have begun to solidify, leaving us with little ground on which to stand.

It is now strange and unusual for clergy (in my tradition) to be hard-nosed about Christian behavior. Recently, I entered the treacherous territory of confirmation expectations. There is no attendance policy (with reward or punishment) for any class or group in the congregation EXCEPT for the confirmation class. Its specific goals and experiences led the teachers to require attendance at all events. (Students are allowed to miss 2 without penalty.) In a culture with traveling sports teams, Sunday games, and other familial busy-ness, we suddenly find ourselves as the bad guys. From the parents' perspective: it is unrealistic for students to come every time, church is not about learning; church is about loving, parents can teach students what they miss in class. And said snidely, of course the pastors would not understand that there is anything worthwhile outside of church.

Isn't it my job to encourage members in their discipleship? Isn't it my job to hold God/The Church above other things? Isn't it my job to remind people of the sacrifices (albeit minor) that we can/are called to offer God?

I feel caught between this need to be "cool" and understanding, as opposed to encouraging dedication to something bigger. Personally, I wish everyone had more of a desire to separate from the secular. I wish that everyone wanted to spend several weeks in a monastic setting, practicing faith with discipline. Though since I realize that this is an unrealistic hope for the majority of the world, isn't it important for me to maintain it for clergy and other intentional religious folk? There is a though that people pay their ministers/priests/clergy to be the people they want to be. So, as I push a family to put God first, to work for something bigger, to be intentional about being "different" from the rest of the team, I am trying to invite them into this Other space.

Help! What do you think?

a REAL girl

Last night someone told me how they were describing me to another person. In their attempt to downplay my ministerial role, they said, "She's like a real person..." "Like a real person?," I asked. I am a real person. Seriously. A real girl who happens to be a clergy type. A real girl who loves to shop, loses my temper, and has a potty mouth. I understand what they meant, but seriously?!

I'm just sayin'.

The Community

Some are very lucky to live in the midst of their community, having friends and supporters, encouragers, and challengers around them. Some of us, however, live in the diaspora. We are part of the scattered Community. Always on the lookout for our 'people', life becomes a journey for the sacred. It is desperately hard to get by some days. Knowing that The Community is out there isn't always enough. I'd like a tangible incarnation of my people -- hands to lift a pint, arms to hold, voices to commend, and feet to follow. So on the rare days when I am blessed to be with The Community, I rejoice! I leap and dance and sing and shout, "Alleluia!"

There is more to this, but I don't have words yet. This is one of my life's threads. Something that I spend a lot of time pondering. It seems like my call will forever be among the disapora. I hope to be blessed with the opportuity to live in The Community some day.

drive, drive, drive... let it ride!

Last week I drove across the country with my college roommate. Crazy good times! Though I am not a fan of car time, it was wonderful to spend time with K and see the sights! Here are two of the many stories:

To entertain ourselves along the way, we devised a number of stunts that would be done at random. One such stunt was to write K's cell phone number on marshmallows to throw into passing cars. Having driven many hours without finding a suitable recipient, we went to dinner alone at a local pub. Much to our joy, the wait staff was incredibly handsome! So we lovingly passed one of our marshmallows (the extra large kind) to our server, who gave it to another server. And, again, much to our delight, the server called K after work. They went out and partied till the cows came home! Dreams do come true, boys and girls.

We were excited to hike and explore the vortices in Sedona, Arizona. Apart from the desert dryness, high altitude conditions, and rocky trail, we were prepared for the Great Outdoors. Our first hike was going to be an easy 1-mile out and back. Lovely gentlemen offered us a ride to the trailhead, so we hopped in and took off. As we hiked around a mesa, time seemed to be passing slowly. Hadn't we already been out here for 30 minutes? Was the trail slowing us down? Doesn't the sun seem to be scorching? And then some hikers behind us told us that we were on the wrong trail. We were on the 4-mile trek. Oh well. We would have brought more water, hats, etc. But the scenery was great, so we kept going... and going... and going... until we thought that we were headed the completely wrong direction. We crossed the road and tried to hitchhike back to our car. We: two remotely attractive, well-dressed, young, single women. And no one picked us up. Not a soul. People actually laughed and pointed as they drove up the mountain. Perhaps they thought that we were joking. Then, in my zealousness for flagging down a motorist, I slipped and fell face-down onto the road. With a jeep passing inches from my head. And still no one stopped. When we finally arrived at the top, someone actually dared to say, "Aren't you glad you walked?" Seriously?! I wonder what would have happened if I had been wearing my collar?

I highly recommend a long, slow trek on rural highways. We saw Americana at its best. Old ladies who taught us life lessons, old men who needed some excitement, Native Americans living simple lives, cute boys in almost every state (New Mexico had a dirth), and strange road signs. Colorado was stunning and Flagstaff, Arizona was a nice surprise. Can't wait to visit again.

me under a tree on our long walk around the mesa

faux pas

At this week's conversation set in the local pub, we were discussing the discipline of fasting for Lent. Folks chimed in about giving up chocolate, television, and various other things. One man said that he gave up sex for Lent and it made Easter all the more special. Everyone giggled. I said, "Well that does make the Halleluiah better. You can say, 'Christ is risen!' with some excitement." Thinking only about the liturgical refrain of "Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!" Not thinking about the connection between risen-ness and sex. Everyone got very quiet with a long awkward pause. Not realizing what I had done, I just went on to the next question. haha! It took me until the next day to figure out the connection. Now I am very embarassed. I've considered apologizing, but think that it may be best to let this dog lie. Oh well.

booted from BINGO

Another funny tale for my collection:

Last Saturday I volunteered to help some older folks play BINGO. The coordinator encouraged me to arrive early, bring prizes, and greet people as they arrived. I looked forward to spending the Saturday morning playing and chatting with people. I arrived as instructed and began setting up, but was waylaid by a resident volunteer determined to show me how things were done. Though I was grateful for her wisdom, I felt confident in my instructions. "FINE!" she snapped, "you do it your way," and threw the box at me. At this point my blood pressure began to rise. What was about to happen? Things settled down. Everyone found their seat. After calling a few games, I felt good about the rhythm. People seemed to be in the zone... until... at the end of one round, a woman at the back table yelled, "Mildred, would you please call?" (Mildred was the woman who initially took offense.) Everyone gasped. Several "well that's rude" exclamations. She must not have liked my style. I chipperly said, "That'd be great. I'd love to play!" I don't know what I did, but apparently it wasn't up to her snuff. Who knew that BINGO was so serious? I guess that BINGO calling isn't really my Calling.

Why do we excuse older people's behavior? As if life experience suddenly gives permission for thoughtlessness or bad manners. Plenty of older folks are more than gracious, but no one cares to correct bad behavior in the grouches. I understand if it's due to a medical condition; however, I have little tolerance for rudeness from anyone of any age.