Getting My Ash in Gear

I'm irritated. Or maybe it's a little bit of holy discomfort. The ashen cross hasn't even smudged off my forehead and I'm already angry with someone in my family.

I know that my husband is clueless about what role he should play as the spouse of a clergywoman. But he chose to tease me about how pungent the aroma of the Ingera was (a flatbread that I literally spent HOURS preparing with a good friend). He compared it to the smell of feet and cheese.

For crying out loud, I JUST preached a sermon about being reconciled to one another and he teases me in front of members of the congregation like I'm a flake and a dummy. Do I go into his classroom and tease him about his weaknesses within hearing of his students?

Sometimes I completely understand why Paul preached a celibate lifestyle. It was so these awkward family moments wouldn't be played out in front of the congregation.

A Prayer for this Sunday

"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." Julian of Norwich, 14th C

Holy One,
You offer us your steadfast love as our refuge;
Your boundless grace is our shelter,
And we give you thanks, honor and praise.

As we gather here today, as one community of faith,
We trust that you will speak to us and through us.

Help us to be careful with one another,
To be loving in our hearts,
Compassionate in our speech,
Healing in our actions.

Prepare and engage us in this moment,
to seek you and embrace you,
to hear you and follow you,
to love you and to serve you.
We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Theology at St. Georges

Mary (not her actual name) came in late to the community meal, dressed in a brown coat, neon pink scarf, dark glasses and caramel colored wig. Her voice, "yes please", was as gentle and high-pitched as a young girl. With a giggle, the 60 year old took a seat at one of the long tables and began her meal.

Everyone was in a good mood. At least twenty folks from our church came to feed the crowd of fourty. That's about twice the amount of help we usually have, and a little less than half the amount of folks we serve. The manager told us that the low numbers were likely due to the oncoming snowstorm. People who are financially on the edge tend to hunker down when bad weather threatens rather than risk going out in the sometimes dangerous streets.

Mary came to the window of the kitchen to ask about "seconds", a meal she could take home. As our volunteers were preparing her a plate, she and I had the opportunity to chat.

"You're from a church?" she said.

"Yes" I answered.

"I love how you have the children here to help. That's something my church would always do." She smiled broadly.

"Oh really? What church do you go to, Mary?" I wanted her to tell me that she had a spiritual home, that she is a part of a church family. She seemed too sweet, too gentle, too nice, to be on her own.

"It's a church down south, in Tennessee." She replied. "At my church, we say all the time that 'Jesus loves me'."

"We say that at my church too! Jesus loves you, in the same way that he loves me, and everyone in this room" We were getting somewhere, finding our theological common ground.

"No, I mean even when we do the wrong thing. Jesus loves us, even when we mess up. Why don't people in the churches up here understand that?" She said.

By now my chin was nearly to the floor. Here is a human being, one of God's precious children, who doesn't know that there are churches in her area that would welcome her with open arms.

"I think we do, Mary. It's just that who we are as people gets in the way. We each have our flaws, our cross to bear, is what I'm saying. I wish that people could just remember that Jesus loves us, in spite of the mistakes we make all the time."

Just then, her meal was ready and Mary began to leave. "Well, God bless you, and thanks for the food."

The church that I serve is about a 25 minute drive from Bridgeport. Mary may have a car or transportation, I don't know. As an urban person who is food insecure, it is highly unlikely that she could make her way to our church on a Sunday morning. And then there is the very real possibility that she suffers from undiagnosed or untreated scizophrenia or bipolar disorder as so many people who live on the streets often do.

As a economically disadvantaged, middle aged, possibly mentally disabled, African American woman, would Mary be welcome in our predominantly Euro American, middle-class, well educated church? Would the people in the pews pass the peace with her? Would she hear from them "Jesus Loves YOU"?

I believe (and hope, and pray) that if Mary came through those big blue doors, she would be welcomed with open arms. If she came back, became a part of things, served in the kitchen at Strawberry Festival, Mary would likely change us too. She would remind us that Jesus loves us right back.

Table Healing - Ethiopian Injera

It finally arrived in the mail, a precious box of Teff flour with which to make Ingera, a gluten-free pancake that will be featured at our Agape meal next Tuesday. What's great about Ethiopian Injera is the "extreme family style" nature of a customary meal. A family gathers at a table around a large pancake with a stew on top. Each member is given their own pancake, which they use to eat the stew in leiu of utensils. Noone has his/her own plate, they all share from one.

For those of you who want to try making this, here are the instructions:
1 cup Teff (Tef, T'ef) Flour
1-1/2 cups Warm Water
1/2 tsp. Sea Salt
Mix flour and water together in a large bowl. Cover with paper towel for 24 to 48 hours at 75° to 80°. Pour off liquid that will rise to top. Add 1/2 tsp. Bob’s Red Mill sea salt and stir. Pour 1/2 cup batter onto a medium hot skillet and cook for approximately 2-3 minutes. Cook until holes appear on the surface of the bread. Once the surface is dry, remove the bread from the pan and let it cool. Makes 4 Injeras.

Our theme at this year's Agape meal at MCC is "Healing in the Christian Family". Pete and I imagined that we would be celebrating the week of Christian Unity (a bit after the fact). That's what we could call the macro component. But there is also a nuclear family component to this. What does my family of four need to do to be more connected with each other? How might we be able to spend less time arguing, and more time healing? What better way is their to heal than by sharing a meal together? Let's eat.

It's the marketing that comes back to haunt me...

Before I went into the ministry I worked in Sports & Entertainment marketing. I designed multimedia presentations and websites, and dabbled in design. And now, I find myself working long hours on creating a consistent look (we call that branding) for the church I love. I want the world to know what a special place I serve. I want my senior pastor to leave confident that God's message will be communicated, in print, on the web, in the pulpit.

Usually, I try to shy away from letting many people in my church know about my marketing and business background. As a second career clergyperson, I sometimes wonder if my employment experience invalidates my call. Ministers are supposed to be more spiritual, less reliant on technology. They should be studious, less likely to connect with others through such tenuous threads as social networking sites.

Some may call me a geek... they don't know the half of it.

Chaos Theory

One of the more interesting ideas behind chaos theory is that order naturally arises from disorder. Nature is full of such examples. Look at a snowflake, for instance. A nebulous drop of water vapor in the sky one minute, and a beautifully symmetrical work of art the next. Or a rain puddle after a storm... no matter how violently a child dips his hands into the fluid surface and splashes around, once he steps back the surface organizes itself in circles of waves before it quiets.

Chaos theory suggests that no matter how we mess things up, a power higher than ourselves (God) regulates that which is troubled back into a state of peace and symmetry.

I've certainly witnessed this happen in my life, and the lives of those I love. And yet, I still don't trust it will happen sometimes.

There are so many wonderful people that I know that work so hard making sure that their life, their finances, their children, their home environment is perfect. Before I entered seminary I was certainly one of them. Some of those expectations I've given up, but I still haven't left all of them behind.

This Lenten season, I hope to recognize and honor the One who brings symmetry, the one who has "got my back", the One who dispenses grace, freely and fully. And maybe, just maybe, the journey this year will be deeper and calmer for me and those I love.

Coming Back

It has been a few years since I've blogged. Actually, I've never seriously blogged. But now, I'm going to make a serious effort to try.

In a few days Pete, my senior colleague, mentor and friend, will leave for England and Mexico for a well earned 3 month sabattical (I'm not sure I am spelling that word correctly)

I am accustomed to working in a team, but now I will now be serving this lovable, wonderful, generous, creative and quirky congregation as a solo pastor.

People ask me if I am scared. My answer is "No". I usually follow that by thinking inside my head... "what have you heard?"

I feel good about the expectations I have set with the lay leaders, members and friends. And I feel confident in my leadership, both administratively and spiritually. And I trust those I serve.

On the other hand, I have been known for my workaholic tendancies. Like many others who work in service professions, my biggest worry is that I'm working too hard and not working hard enough... at the same time.

So, I'm going to attempt to record the thoughts, experiences and feelings in a blog over the next three months. Partly so that I can remember what we've learned and what we have struggled as a faith community, and partly as a diary of my own growth. I won't use names or compromise any pastoral confidences, this is a public space.

And I do respectfully ask that if you have a comment, you are prayerful about leaving it. People I care about may be reading your words.