When Strength Fails

I’ve hit the wall. It's hard to say that since I really do pride myself on being a strong person. But I realized it this morning as I flew about the house trying to pack up my son’s lunch, brush his teeth, get his shoes on, get him slathered in sunscreen, remember to bring diapers to daycare, put on my own shoes, think about meeting the family later that morning to plan a funeral, wonder how I’m going to write two sermons this week, regret getting in from a meeting last night at 10pm…

I’ve hit the wall. I was short with my son this morning when I really didn’t need to be. He doesn’t understand that I sometimes have to go get ready while he eats breakfast. Or do I? I kick myself and say I should maybe just get up earlier. He cried because I put his sunscreen on; I cried because we were going to be late out the door, which meant that I may not get to walk him to his classroom and assure myself (probably more than him) that he’s in good hands and ready for the day ahead.

I’ve hit the wall. The overriding emotion of this day so far has been anger, with a close runner-up being sadness. There are so many things to do and I just don’t know how I’m going to get them done. Worse, I’m not sure I care very much about them.

So, shortly after getting to the office, after considering letting myself have a good cry (and opting out since I do have some professional meetings today and little time to repair the damage it would do to my face) and putting my head down on my desk to feel the cold, hard surface against my hot cheek, I remembered what I’m supposed to do.

When I hit the wall, I’m supposed to turn to God. And while God won’t take care of making dinner tonight or put together the weekly newsletter or watch my son while I just go to the bathroom, God will take care of me. The stuff I really need, the sense of peace and joy that’s just beyond my reach right now, is possible with God’s help.

So, God, please help me, because my strength is failing and I can’t see my way out at the moment. And if this middle-class, home-buying, recycling wife, mother, and pastor can’t find the way out, I pray that you are even more present and known to those who really are hitting the wall.

“Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” – Isaiah 40:28-31

Have you hit the wall lately?

Clergy + Woman

This year, I am serving as the co-convener (i.e. vice chair) of our conference clergywomen’s group. It is quite an honor for me since this was one of the key groups that helped me through seminary and the ordination process simply by their presence. I was invited to a lunch when I was still a candidate and found the wisdom, courage, and faithfulness of the women in the room extraordinary and inspiring. I felt like I could do because they had done it.

So here I am, miles down the road, helping to lead the very group which was such a means of grace to me. This year we’ve done a few new things – we’ve devised a purpose statement and a logo. The purpose of the North Texas Conference Clergywomen is to advocate for and build relationship with other clergy women. And this is our logo:

There are a few significant things about it to me. There is a deacon and an elder/local pastor represented by the stoles, signifying that both are ways that clergywomen live out God’s calling in their lives. The stoles are red, which is the same color given and worn during an ordination or Pentecost service, symbolizing the outpouring of God’s Spirit upon the individual. The shoes are red, too, in fond remembrance of many clergywomen who have had the courage and audacity to be women in the pulpit, all the way down to their shoes. Finally, one hand is reaching up while one is reaching back, signifying how we are always in a mentoring relationship, receiving wisdom from those who have gone before us and offering it to those coming after us.

This year, we’ve also informally decided to have a “red shoe Monday” at Annual Conference to bring our logo to life, as one of my clergy sisters put it. They don’t have to be heels, they don’t have to be high, they can just be red. A statement of solidarity and support with and for one another. And I couldn’t be more excited. Because, in all truth and honesty, I am both clergy and woman.

I am clergy because I have been called by God to be set apart for this responsibility of leading in word, order, sacrament, and service. I am clergy because other brothers and sisters in faith, from the SPRC that first approved of my candidacy to the Board of Ordained Ministry that recommended my ordination, have agreed that I am called by God. I am clergy in my church, where I preach, teach, laugh, hug, cry, plan, advocate, lead, and serve. I am clergy in my community where I advocate for others and partner with others of various stripes and hues. I am clergy even when folks of other churches say I’m not.

And, even in the midst of all these ways I am clergy, I am a woman. There’s no denying or getting around it, and I don’t want to! From the bra snaps in middle school, to the arguments with my mom about what I could and should wear in high school, to the adventures of college, to the awakening to the femininity of God in seminary – I am a woman. It’s challenging and wonderful and simply the hand that I’ve been dealt. I embrace who I am as a woman, all the curves and power of my body, all the ways my embodied experience informs my knowing and theology, and how my presence and leadership can be different (in a good way) from my male colleagues. I know great prices have been paid by others so that I can stand to preach today; like my right to vote, I acknowledge the sacrifice of others.

Now, just because you get a body, doesn’t mean you get a typical personality. I don’t like stereotypes. But I have talked with a couple of clergywomen colleagues who have either forgotten or want to dismiss that they are women. It baffled me, so I dug to find out more. For the one who had forgotten, she didn’t think of being a woman as a key part of her identity. I can understand that; we all build our identities from the various roles we assume. For me, being a woman is key to my understanding because of my relationships as wife and mother. I love those relationships, although they are probably far from what some would consider traditional, so I embrace who I am in them. For the one who would dismiss, she said that she wanted her embodiment to be secondary to the presence of God through her. And while I appreciate her humility and understand the motivations, I don’t know that we can ever get around this embodied experience of life.

God put us in these bodies! We are created male and female. And while there are layers upon layers of stuff – perversions and traditions and stereotypes and God alone knows what else – there is something to be learned and cherished from life in a body. It is in bathing bodies, our own and those who are dependent upon us – that we can learn to appreciate the gift of baptism. It is in feeding bodies, our own and those who are dependent upon us – that we can learn to appreciate the gift of communion. We have a God so great and so amazing that humbled God’s self to the experience of human life – from birth to death and all the great messiness in between.

So, while I will never imago Christi as my Catholic brothers explained is key to their understanding of priesthood when we spoke as chaplain candidates years ago, I know I am created imago Dei. I bear the image of God, from my blow-dried hair to my polished toe nails in high heels in church. I bear the image of God, from my ponytail to my sneakers on mission trips and playgrounds. I bear the image of God, from my tangled hair to my bare feet when I comfort my son in the middle of the night. I am clergy + woman, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Do you think about your embodied life? Where are the challenges and joys? Where is God in the midst of it?

While I run this race...

“Who called you on the journey of ministry?” While it is obviously God who calls people, there are others who helped along the way - SynchBlog Day on 4/4 – Who Called You? #Explo13 #UMC

YES, while God does the calling, it is through the wise words, compassionate ears, and helping hands of living, breathing people that anyone gets where they’re going. And that includes in ordained ministry. I’m participating in a SynchBlog to get the word out about Exploration, an event for young adults age 18-26 to hear, discern, and respond to God’s call to ordained ministry in The United Methodist Church, and the question above is the prompt for today.

Recently, I wrote about what it felt like to be there, to have this sense of having arrived at my destination. I am an ordained elder in full connection in the North Texas Conference of The United Methodist Church. This was a goal it took eight years to attain. So, if you are considering this path, listen to the wise words of one of my former district superintendents: You can think about the things to do as hoops to jump through or doors to pass through. It’s all up to you. You choose your perspective and whether or not you value the journey as much as the destination.

With that in mind, I looted my ordination paperwork to help me answer today’s question:

God has called me throughout my life, but many times I couldn’t hear the call clearly because I couldn’t accept that I could be the person God was calling me to be. I grew up in an area in Arkansas where I never saw a clergywoman, so I never knew that was a possibility for me, although I used to joke with my friends that I would start my own church someday since I was usually disappointed or frustrated by my experiences in churches.

One day in the spring of 2003, I was reading a news story about our soldiers around the world. I remembered the many friends I had had in high school who had joined the reserves or the guard thinking only of earning some extra money for college, not that they would ever be putting their training to use. Suddenly it struck me what a hard life that could be, separated from your family and the familiar, doing things that are totally the opposite of who you really are. I thought how much they need a reminder of the presence of God with them, even in the midst of violent conflict and that perhaps I could be that reminder.

I immediately smothered that idea. I had never known any female pastors until I had begun working at First UMC - Denton in November 2002. I told myself I did not know enough about the Bible or church in general to be a chaplain. Certainly the need was there, but I was clearly not the right person for the task. But the idea would not go away. Maybe God was calling me, but I did not feel qualified.

I was inspired by the pastors at our church, especially Rev. Lisa Greenwood who was a wife, mother, and amazing associate pastor. In June 2003, she went on to be a senior pastor at another church and has continued to be a source of inspiration for me. In 2009, as I was preparing for commissioning, I asked for her to be my mentor in residency, to which she generously agreed. She has been a spiritual running partner on this ministry journey.

For months I struggled with this sense of call. I decided I needed to talk to someone about it, so I asked Rev. Andy Stoker, another one our associate pastors at that time, to meet with me. I was apprehensive about talking to anyone about this calling, since I knew it would change the relationships I had with others. But as soon as I spoke to Andy, a sense of relief came over me. As I continued to speak, I felt great excitement and joy. I felt I had discovered my God-given purpose in life. Andy became that first spiritual running partner, someone who knew the road and could help me run the race.

Despite the snags and snares I encountered in my candidacy process, including people in my own tradition who advise me to read the Bible to see what it says about women in ministry, implying that to be a dutiful wife I need to give up this aspiration and quietly stay at home, and people in other traditions who condemn me for seeking ordination at all, I continue to find strength and encouragement in God and in brothers and sisters around me.

I have realized that I may never be perfectly prepared, but I have reconciled myself to this since God never promises us an easy path, just to accompany us every step of the way. This is the good news for those who seek to be in leadership in the church. Every good that comes from our small effort is by the grace of God through Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit.

The other realization that I came to over the course of my candidacy, which included the chaplain candidate program with the Air Force, is that while my initial calling was through military chaplaincy, I never want to close myself to God’s call. I believe that at that time, I was receptive to God’s call to chaplaincy when I may not have even considered any other idea of ministry. I still don’t believe that I have God’s final word on my life. My calling may include other ministries someday. I want to stay open to the Spirit’s guidance.

When I was ordained, on June 6, 2011, it was Andy and Lisa who carefully placed the red stole around my shoulders. I was elated, honored, and humbled to be taking my place alongside them as colleagues, as co-workers for the sake of the Gospel. Now, recognizing them and so many others who have helped me along this way, I am intentional about offering a hand to those who are just starting out on the road. Because we all need a little flesh and blood embodiment of God while we run this race!

Oh, Lord hold my hand while I run this race. / Oh, Lord hold my hand while I run this race.
Oh, Lord hold my hand while I run this race, / I don't want to run this race in vain.

Oh, guide my feet while I run this race. / Oh, guide my feet while I run this race.
Oh, guide my feet while I run this race, / I don't want to run this race in vain.

Dark!

That is the exclamation I hear from my 2-year-old son when we walk through the laundry room. I try to observe lots of things to him, from the man walking to the trees along the road, so I’m sure I mentioned that it was dark as I carried him through this small room between our garage and the rest of the house at some point. It has 2 doors, one on either side, probably to muffle the noise of the laundry machines from the rest of the house, but the effect is a pretty inky darkness as you pass through one door, close it, before reaching for the other. Knowing my house like I do, I rarely flip the light switch, intuitively knowing where the next handle is.

The first time we passed through this darkness, I remember James held me a little tighter as he exclaimed, “Dark!” “I’m right here. I’ve got you,” I said. And like so many other times in this relationship, I glimpsed the heart of God in my small, mundane life. How many times have I cried out to God, “Dark!” And, if I am willing, I can feel the arms of God around me, even to the point of carrying me, as God whispers in my ear, “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

My husband, who is a musician, will often talk about people getting dark. Usually it’s a director who’s addressing the band. It was a piece of language I wasn’t familiar with the first time, so I pressed him to explain the first time he used it. For him and for the musicians he’s around, dark is when someone is being brutally honest, really telling you what the problem is – it’s critical but not personal. It’s sometimes necessary to get dark.

Well, brothers and sisters, it’s time to get dark in our faith. It’s the Thursday of Holy Week, the day when we remember Christ’s last Passover with his disciples, as he gathered with them around a table, fed them, washed their feet, while knowing the betrayal to come. It’s time for us to own our faults, the ways in which we betray God daily in our words or actions. Yet, even in the midst of these things, as I lament by failings, I know that, no matter how dark it may get, God is there.

Fortunately us, this liminal space is just that. It is a threshold between here and there, a “time to remember and move on” (This is a Day of New Beginnings, UMH #383). We don’t stand here in the in-between space any more than I stand for any length of time in the laundry room with my son. We experience the darkness, we know it for what it is whether it’s inside or outside, and we move forward to embrace the light. For nothing helps us savor the radiance of resurrection like the dark.

The Fear of the Lord

I got a baby shower invitation recently. I love babies and baby showers, but something in the invitation struck me strangely. In a little insert, it says that after the present opening “we will have a time when each shower attendee is welcome to express a prayer over the mother-to-be. (Family member/hostess) will open this time with a word from Scripture and then the baby and family are covered with prayers regarding the parents raising the child in the fear of the Lord…” 

Huh? Fear of the Lord? I’m a pastor and this is not a term I am overly familiar with. And it didn’t really sound like something I would pray for an infant. I’m probably an overly practical or idealistic pray-er – either it’s “Dear God, please don’t let my baby die in the night from SIDS” or “Dear God, I wish so many children in this world were not hungry.” And that word fear struck me so negatively. So, like a good theologian, I decided to dig in and see from whence my discomfort came and how this term is really used in Scripture. 

So, here goes. First, I read up on things you should not fear. This is no deep research, just a cursory glance, but here are some highlights of things not to fear:

•  “See, the Lord your God has given the land to you; go up, take possession, as the Lord, the God of your ancestors, has promised you; do not fear or be dismayed.” – Deut 1:21
• “Do not fear him, for I have handed him over to you, along with his people and his land.” – Deut 3:2
• “Be strong and bold; have no fear or dread of them, because it is the Lord your God who goes with you; he will not fail you or forsake you.” – Deut 31:6
• “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?” – Psalm 27:1
• “The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies. The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more.”  - Zephaniah 3:15

Ok, so now I know what we are not supposed to fear. So what is the fear of the Lord? According to another cursory research project, it is:

• Keeping God’s laws, decrees, statutes, and commandments (Deut 6:2, 17:19; Proverbs 24:21)
• What God requires of God’s people, along with loving and serving God (Deut 10:12)
• Wisdom (Job 28:28, Proverbs 15:33)
• The beginning of wisdom/knowledge (Psalm 111:10; Proverbs 1:7, 1:29, 2:5, 9:10)
• Pure, enduring forever (Psalm 19:9)
• A demarcation of God’s people, so that we might praise, glorify, and stand in awe of God (Psalm 22:23)
• A cause for friendship with God; God will make God’s covenant known to these friends (Psalm 25:14)
• Something all the earth and all inhabitants of the world should do (Psalm 33:8)
• “Truly the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love” – Psalm 33:18
• “The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them.” – Psalm 34:7
• Something to teach children (Psalm 34:11)
• The hatred or avoidance of evil (Proverbs 8:13, 16:6)
• Life, in which we can rest secure, find refuge, suffer no harm (Proverbs 10:27, 14:26-27, 19:23, 29:25)
• Better than great treasure and trouble with it (Proverbs 15:16)
• Rewarded with riches and honor and life (Proverbs 22:4)
• Regarding God as holy (Isaiah 8:13)
• Zion’s treasure – stability of your times, abundance of salvation, wisdom, and knowledge (Isaiah 33:6)
• “Did he not fear the Lord and entreat the favor of the Lord, and did not the Lord change his mind about the disaster that he had pronounced against them?” – Jeremiah 26:19
• Lack thereof is a cause for judgment - along with adulterers, false swearing, oppressing hired workers, widows, or orphans, or thrusting aside the alien (Malachi 3:5)
• A cause for church growth, accompanied by the comfort of the Holy Spirit (Acts 9:31)
• Motivation for trying to persuade others of the gospel (2 Corinthians 5:11)

Then, just yesterday, I had the opportunity to attend a workshop by Dr. Alyce McKenzie entitled “What Kind of Fool Are You? Preaching and Teaching the Folly (and Wisdom) of the Bible). She outlined a pneumonic device to remember “Wisdom’s Golden Nuggets” as follows:
     F – the Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom
     O – Wisdom leads to an Order of life
     G – Wisdom is a Gift from God.

She used Bob Dylan’s song, “Gotta Serve Somebody” to say:

You’re gonna have to fear somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to fear somebody

So, I’m finding that “fear of the Lord” may be an odd phrase to my postmodern ears. I don’t want to have to be afraid of anyone or anything, although I often am. The news is full of things I should fear – west nile virus, gun violence, internet hackers, politicians, etc. But, Scripture is telling me that the only entity I should fear is God. And that fear looks more like reverence, awe, and wonder, although, should I ever be in the full presence of God, I’m sure there would be some knee-knocking trembling, too.

If I fear God, I have no cause to fear anything else. It doesn’t promise an easy life, but it recognizes the true order of things. God is sovereign; God is the beginning and end of all things. When I fear the other stuff, I give it power in my life. And only God should have that kind of power because God is always speaking life and love into our existence.

So, I may not embrace the language, but I can embrace the concept. I want to walk in the wisdom of God, and this appears to be the starting line.

We Believe in Salvation for Sinners

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been teaching this chapter of Will Willimon’s book, This We Believe, to one of our adult Sunday school classes. Last Sunday, when I put up the first slide of my nifty powerpoint presentation and read the title, one of the class members cheered. This class is a delightful blend of wit, intelligence, and deep faithfulness. So I agreed with the tongue in cheek gesture. Yes, it is a good thing we believe in salvation for sinners – we know ourselves that well.

We, as United Methodists, are accused fairly often of having an underdeveloped doctrine of sin. But, as Willimon writes and I paraphrase, we need to fully appreciate the problem of sin to appreciate God’s remedy in the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. If sin were no big deal, why did God come among us? Jesus might as well have taught a self-help program so that basically nice people could become nicer.

Of course, one of my other source documents for these lessons was John Wesley’s sermon, “The Scripture Way of Salvation.” Wesley may have been a better preacher than he was a systematic theologian, but he lays out his understanding of the work of salvation very nicely in this sermon, although he amplifies certain points elsewhere.

One of the things I had forgotten, but that struck me powerfully in my preparation was the past-present-future aspect of salvation. Salvation was accomplished once and for all in the work of Jesus Christ (past tense). Salvation is a reality that can be lived into here and now (present). And, salvation is that entering into glory with God after death (future). It troubles me how much thought and speech centers around the past and future aspects of salvation with little mention of the present. It seems contrary since our “now” is all we really have before us. It is in this “now” that we can make a difference, experience life, and life abundantly.

Then, tonight, in my Disciple Bible Study group, our text just happened to be the first half of the gospel of John. This gospel, which assumes we all start in a state of death, but have the opportunity to come to life through Jesus. Jesus comes to speak life into our death-ridden existence. But, we would rather have the safe answers, the actions kept at a distance in the past, or the promise of comfort to come.

It was a helpful coincidence as I continued to mull over this idea of salvation, so different from what some of our brothers and sisters might understand it to be. Today, in Sunday school, I invited the class members to take different versions of the “sinner’s prayer” and study them theologically – what points are being made, what do you find troubling or out of sync with our doctrine, what is the purpose, what are the benefits or pitfalls?

I brought this exercise because I remember a time when I was a child that I visited a relative who convinced me to pray this prayer. I was away from home, I was out of context, and she made the case with impassioned belief. She constructed the image of my own heart, locked from within, that needed to be opened to Jesus. This prayer was the way to invite him in. Afterwards, she took me to the jewelry store and bought me a cross necklace, which I still own.

I think that she thought that she saved my soul that day and had done her duty by me. I had received my ticket to heaven. But, Wesley also writes “Christianity is essentially a social religion; and that to turn it into a solitary religion, is indeed to destroy it” (Sermon 24: Upon our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount). Perhaps, nominally, I was a Christian, but there was no community to nurture me, like so many who are invited to click whether or not they became a Christian by praying the prayer, now offered online.

To this day, I don’t point to this event as my “conversion.” That event was many years later, in a community of faith that nurtured me, allowed me to ask questions, and loved me, whatever my decision may have been. Christianity is a social religion, not just a checked box that I have accepted Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. Surely, he is that, too, but my soul would wither without the company of other sinners and saints.

Word Power

I have a BA in English. I love language, words, stories. Honestly, my call to ordained ministry came out of the desire to share the greatest story I know with others. As a mother to a 2-year-old son, I'm finally putting that one semester of "Methods of Teaching English" to use. And remembering how ridiculously complicated and nonsensical my native tongue is.

My favorite new rediscovery with James is homonyms and homophones. Homonyms are words that are spelled the same, sound the same, but mean different things, i.e. "Mommy is putting the money in the bank" and "Look at those flowers on the river bank." Homophones are words that are spelled differently, but sound the same and mean different things, i.e. "Go through the door" and "James threw the ball!" (By the way, my favorite online helper to refresh me on all this grammar stuff, which was never my favorite, is Grammar Girl.)

His language skills are exploding. It's wonderful and scary at the same time. It makes me much more mindful of the things I say and, even more importantly, how I say them. Since we're four days into Lent, I guess it might be time to share the things I'm giving up/taking on for the season:

1. I will be more mindful about what I say so that fewer evil things come out of my mouth.
2. I will blog each day, with the hope that the intentional time of reflection will guide me deeper.
3. I will participate in the United Methodist Rethink Church photo-a-day thing.

I've talked before about how important I believe words to be. I don't think that it's unremarkable that Jesus is identified as the Word of God, through whom all things came into being as God spoke creation. The ancient people who passed along our sacred stories understood words to be a unit of power. Names were important because they were words intimately connected with our being (notice how often God goes around renaming folks...).

I've always liked this passage: "For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and succeed in the thing for which I sent it." (Isaiah 55:10-11)

So, I want James to use his words well. As adorable as it is that he calls his yogurt "yay-yo" and he's fumbling his way through "hippopotamus," I want him to become a man who considers his words and doesn't fling them about lightly. And in this information age, where words populate cyberspace faster than breath, that will be a challenge. That's why this is part of my challenge to myself for Lent.

How about you? What are you giving up/taking on/feeling called to do this Lent?