in the last year, it has seemed that my life has followed the pattern of the liturgical year. during advent, i felt pregnant with the possibilities of my future ministry. now, i feel called by the purposes of lent.
recommitment.
renewal.
repentance.
i am on the cusp of transition, but fear i will lose myself before i make the change. i have been up and down and in and out with my faith and my call in the last three years. some days, some moments, i can articulate that journey, other days and moments, i hardly even notice the path. i need to recommit to this calling i chose to prepare for as i actually enter it.
i teeter on the edge of burnout. i feel like i am putting out fires all week, only to start with new fires at the beginning of another week. i have spent most evenings in the last two weeks on my couch with my laptop, writing paper, writing eZines, writing emails... after days full of running around. i find myself occasionally overwhelmed by the have-to's and thus unable to address the want-to's. i know i just need to finish school, and then readjust, but i do think i can change now. there is a way to make this work. i want to find it. i want to be renewed for the rest of the seminary journey.
i was recently told that i am often an abby-like blur on campus, rather than the full presence of myself. when i become that blur, it becomes all about me. what i need done. who i need to talk to. what steps i have to take to get ordained. which hoops i am jumping through this week. what is my theology, my vocation, my call, my context, my tradition, my, my, my. what about ours? what about my family? my friends? my neighbors? my community? i confess to navel gazing and hope to repent through this lent season. i don't know if my blog is the place to do that. i am not sure. i hope to blog everyday, because it is a reflective practice, and lent is also about reflection. but, it ain't about me. it's about God.
i will try to walk that tension for the next forty days. let me know how i am doing and what your suggestions are for turning my gaze upward, and outward for these last few months of seminary.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
sabbath, yes i preached on that.
i thought it was funny i got assigned "sabbath" as a preaching topic in mbcc's last series of faith words.
we always preach to ourselves first.
i finally get it. as i feel overwhelmed and overworked on my birthday, less excited that usual about what is ahead, i realize i need a sabbath. not just a day of rest, but a structure to live in that includes faithful rest. this will be what i try to take on for lent.
til then, here is the sorta transcript of the second version of my sabbath sermon that i preach at fruitvale presbyterian this past weekend.
____________________________
"hallowed time"
- Talk about M. and how she taught me how to spend time with God.
* Taking time anywhere to focus on God
* Building particular moments for God makes even the ordinary moments in her life directed by faith. It’s all about the structure you build.
* Islam has no Sabbath, no day of rest of worship, and dspite these differences, she taught me about Sabbath, about the importance of spending time with God.
- Let’s look at Jewish structure. Jewish tradition:
* Sabbath liberates. Deut. 5:12-15 connects Sabbath to Jewish history and remembering God’s freeing power.
* Sabbath is woven into the very history and identity of the Jewish people. Heschel says: “The seventh say is the exodus from tension, the liberation of man from his own muddiness, the installation of man as sovereign in the world of time.”
* Sabbath here is defined most thoroughly by what not to do. We are to remember the work of God in our rest. Heschel encourages the shift from focusing on the results of creation in our work lives to focusing on the mystery of creation in rest, from the world of creation to the creation of the world.
* The constructive instruction we are given regarding the Sabbath is to keep it holy. The Hebrew word for holy means literally “set apart.” We are to dedicate this time to God, to remember God in this time, but we are also to set this time apart. Contemporary Jewish practice sets apart Shabbat time in particular ways—prep for Sabbath, prayer and worship, lighting candles at the beginning and the end.
* Setting apart this time builds a structure for the week. Part of the week is spent preparing for Shabbat. We all know it takes a lot of work to take a vacation, or to catch up after returning home. Shabbat is like that... requires preparation.
* So, if in our own practice, Sabbath time is oriented toward God, and the rest of our time is oriented toward Sabbath, then our structure has made our entire lives oriented toward God.
* This changes our faith. This makes time holy. This opens us up to the movement of God.
* So now what do we do with this tradition?
- We turn to Jesus. Jesus transformed the tradition.
- Retell the story a little. Lessons:
1. Jesus followed the spirit of the tradition. The disciples would not have been able to focus on God if they were focused on their hunger. Despite their plucking grains appearing to be work, Jesus knew that “work” would accomplish the goal of the Sabbath.
2. Sabbath is not about us. It is not just a day given to pamper ourselves, to take a day off, to indulge. Sabbath is about God, it is about seeing God and being God in the world. Sabbath is not an excuse to ignore suffering, rather it is an opportunity to perhaps see it more deeply and respond more compassionately.
3. God doesn’t stop moving on the Sabbath. We are told to rest, and to remember when God rested, but we are not told that God rests every seventh day. Jesus reminds us that God is still moving and working even when we are not.
Sabbath is not out salvation. Nothing we “do” saves us. Rather, Sabbath is a gift from God, a tool that Jesus taught us to use, that frees us from some of the tyrannies of this world and allows us to build our lives around God.
Calvin noted that when life is good, we forget God. When life is bad, we cling to God, suddenly remembering God’s presence when recently we lived as if God didn’t exist.
Through Sabbath practice, we never live in ignorance of God. We never forget.
Sabbath time is the frame and foundation of a house or a building, around which everything else is oriented. It holds up the roof, it stays strong in an earthquake, and all the details—from doors, to windows, to where it is best to hang pictures on the walls, depend on this structure. When we truly practice Sabbath, we fit the details of our lives into a structure built to honor, remember and worship God, and in doing so, we make not just our Sabbath time sacred, but all of our time sacred, directing our whole lives toward God.
Sabbath is not about a particular time or place. There is no right way to spend holy time with God. Jesus transformed the Sabbath tradition and calls us to do so as well. Find the clues, find the lessons, find the tools you need to build the architecture of your Sabbath. Do what you need to do to make time that turns you most to God, so that you might see God, not just in Sabbath time, but in all time. Like Jesus said in Mark… “Man was not made for Sabbath, Sabbath was made for man.”
amen.
we always preach to ourselves first.
i finally get it. as i feel overwhelmed and overworked on my birthday, less excited that usual about what is ahead, i realize i need a sabbath. not just a day of rest, but a structure to live in that includes faithful rest. this will be what i try to take on for lent.
til then, here is the sorta transcript of the second version of my sabbath sermon that i preach at fruitvale presbyterian this past weekend.
____________________________
"hallowed time"
- Talk about M. and how she taught me how to spend time with God.
* Taking time anywhere to focus on God
* Building particular moments for God makes even the ordinary moments in her life directed by faith. It’s all about the structure you build.
* Islam has no Sabbath, no day of rest of worship, and dspite these differences, she taught me about Sabbath, about the importance of spending time with God.
- Let’s look at Jewish structure. Jewish tradition:
* Sabbath liberates. Deut. 5:12-15 connects Sabbath to Jewish history and remembering God’s freeing power.
* Sabbath is woven into the very history and identity of the Jewish people. Heschel says: “The seventh say is the exodus from tension, the liberation of man from his own muddiness, the installation of man as sovereign in the world of time.”
* Sabbath here is defined most thoroughly by what not to do. We are to remember the work of God in our rest. Heschel encourages the shift from focusing on the results of creation in our work lives to focusing on the mystery of creation in rest, from the world of creation to the creation of the world.
* The constructive instruction we are given regarding the Sabbath is to keep it holy. The Hebrew word for holy means literally “set apart.” We are to dedicate this time to God, to remember God in this time, but we are also to set this time apart. Contemporary Jewish practice sets apart Shabbat time in particular ways—prep for Sabbath, prayer and worship, lighting candles at the beginning and the end.
* Setting apart this time builds a structure for the week. Part of the week is spent preparing for Shabbat. We all know it takes a lot of work to take a vacation, or to catch up after returning home. Shabbat is like that... requires preparation.
* So, if in our own practice, Sabbath time is oriented toward God, and the rest of our time is oriented toward Sabbath, then our structure has made our entire lives oriented toward God.
* This changes our faith. This makes time holy. This opens us up to the movement of God.
* So now what do we do with this tradition?
- We turn to Jesus. Jesus transformed the tradition.
- Retell the story a little. Lessons:
1. Jesus followed the spirit of the tradition. The disciples would not have been able to focus on God if they were focused on their hunger. Despite their plucking grains appearing to be work, Jesus knew that “work” would accomplish the goal of the Sabbath.
2. Sabbath is not about us. It is not just a day given to pamper ourselves, to take a day off, to indulge. Sabbath is about God, it is about seeing God and being God in the world. Sabbath is not an excuse to ignore suffering, rather it is an opportunity to perhaps see it more deeply and respond more compassionately.
3. God doesn’t stop moving on the Sabbath. We are told to rest, and to remember when God rested, but we are not told that God rests every seventh day. Jesus reminds us that God is still moving and working even when we are not.
Sabbath is not out salvation. Nothing we “do” saves us. Rather, Sabbath is a gift from God, a tool that Jesus taught us to use, that frees us from some of the tyrannies of this world and allows us to build our lives around God.
Calvin noted that when life is good, we forget God. When life is bad, we cling to God, suddenly remembering God’s presence when recently we lived as if God didn’t exist.
Through Sabbath practice, we never live in ignorance of God. We never forget.
Sabbath time is the frame and foundation of a house or a building, around which everything else is oriented. It holds up the roof, it stays strong in an earthquake, and all the details—from doors, to windows, to where it is best to hang pictures on the walls, depend on this structure. When we truly practice Sabbath, we fit the details of our lives into a structure built to honor, remember and worship God, and in doing so, we make not just our Sabbath time sacred, but all of our time sacred, directing our whole lives toward God.
Sabbath is not about a particular time or place. There is no right way to spend holy time with God. Jesus transformed the Sabbath tradition and calls us to do so as well. Find the clues, find the lessons, find the tools you need to build the architecture of your Sabbath. Do what you need to do to make time that turns you most to God, so that you might see God, not just in Sabbath time, but in all time. Like Jesus said in Mark… “Man was not made for Sabbath, Sabbath was made for man.”
amen.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
self determination
in seventh grade, everyone had to do a project on a country of the world in geography class. we got to pick which country we studied, as long as no one else had already picked it. having always had a flare for and attraction to the obscure (or seemingly so), i chose sri lanka.
some of the things i learned from that project struck me so deeply that i hold onto them today, still probably fourteen years later. i learned that sri lanka was in a civil war that started the year i was born. i was amazed that a civil war could last so long. my only exposure to the concept was the war between the north and the south here, and by comparison, that seemed to be a neat and tidy war that wrapped up quickly.
i remember thinking about the tamil tigers and what they want. they are a minority, and want and equal voice. they didn't seem to be getting it as a part of sri lanka, and so they wanted the right to govern themselves. this seemed simple to me at the time. every one should get to exercise that right if they so desire. that is how our country was founded right? we wanted the right to self-determination, and we fought for it.
what i didn't understand in seventh grade, is that though that may be true, throughout our history, we have restricted the right to self-govern of other groups, lots of them, the world over. we keep sticking our nose in business where perhaps it just doesn't belong. even with that deeper knowledge, more complex view of the situation, the idealist in me still says that everyone should have the right to self govern. it affirms our most basic human dignity.
and so i am saddened to still see this island's civil war in the news. it has been this way since i did that project. every few months, an attack or a battle would be a big enough deal to devote a paragraph to the incident on the second page of the world section, hidden by the fold of the newspaper. the media claims the end of this war is in sight. but will the war really be over until everyone in that country feels like a dignified citizen with a voice? will our conflicts around the world end until that happens?
we only control our own destiny to an extent. in 2004, about 35,000 people died on this island in the tsunami. the waves did not distinguish between who was on which side of the conflict. the tsunami indiscriminately swept people to their deaths. in a world where this can happen, we crave control and agency over our lives. it gives us person hood, identity and a sense of stability.
how can we ensure that everyone feels like a person?
some of the things i learned from that project struck me so deeply that i hold onto them today, still probably fourteen years later. i learned that sri lanka was in a civil war that started the year i was born. i was amazed that a civil war could last so long. my only exposure to the concept was the war between the north and the south here, and by comparison, that seemed to be a neat and tidy war that wrapped up quickly.
i remember thinking about the tamil tigers and what they want. they are a minority, and want and equal voice. they didn't seem to be getting it as a part of sri lanka, and so they wanted the right to govern themselves. this seemed simple to me at the time. every one should get to exercise that right if they so desire. that is how our country was founded right? we wanted the right to self-determination, and we fought for it.
what i didn't understand in seventh grade, is that though that may be true, throughout our history, we have restricted the right to self-govern of other groups, lots of them, the world over. we keep sticking our nose in business where perhaps it just doesn't belong. even with that deeper knowledge, more complex view of the situation, the idealist in me still says that everyone should have the right to self govern. it affirms our most basic human dignity.
and so i am saddened to still see this island's civil war in the news. it has been this way since i did that project. every few months, an attack or a battle would be a big enough deal to devote a paragraph to the incident on the second page of the world section, hidden by the fold of the newspaper. the media claims the end of this war is in sight. but will the war really be over until everyone in that country feels like a dignified citizen with a voice? will our conflicts around the world end until that happens?
we only control our own destiny to an extent. in 2004, about 35,000 people died on this island in the tsunami. the waves did not distinguish between who was on which side of the conflict. the tsunami indiscriminately swept people to their deaths. in a world where this can happen, we crave control and agency over our lives. it gives us person hood, identity and a sense of stability.
how can we ensure that everyone feels like a person?
i am superwoman
erasing all evidence of myself from our last apartment, wondering why anyone ever prefers white walls to any color, and admiring the way that brushstrokes give life to the color "linen," i jammed alone to a playlist entitled "girls who kick ass" on my hot little iPod. it gave me the grace of alicia keys' superwoman.
everywhere i'm turning nothing seems complete
i have learned to pick up and move at the drop of a hat. me, who lived in the same home from age five (or four?) until college (and even returned for a post-wedding week with my husband while we waited to close on our house). i who just three weeks ago went to the second dentist i can ever remember going to. i have always loved to travel but have always needed a home. i have learned to make home in whatever corner of the world i occupy at the moment. but that doesn't totally fulfill my need for home, for roots, and now i find my self unsure of where those roots will go down and when.
still when i'm a mess, i still put on a vest with an s on my chest
settled or unsettled, out into the world i go. reading, writing, drawing, preaching, feeding, typing, listening, wondering, hearing, loving, learning, screwing up. but i don't go alone.
and all my sisters coming together saying yes i will, yes i can.
a year ago at this time, i was coming out of a seminary performance of the vagnia monologues that i helped produce. i was surrounded by women that i learned from, who inspired me, who make me want to be a better, and who have made me a better minister (when/if i get to have that title). reflecting on that, i realize how often when i struggle with who i am, what i am doing adn where i am going, i am not alone. all my sisters come together in my memories, in my bones, as i struggle, and it is by the collective power of their passion, compassion, love and strength, that i can say, yes, i will, yes, i can.
so even though i am not a part of a v-day celebration this year, i live grateful to all my sisters, and the women who have come before me, who have made me who i am and who give me the strength to muddle through to become someone better.
words in italics are some of the lyrics from superwoman. buy the song. seriously.
everywhere i'm turning nothing seems complete
i have learned to pick up and move at the drop of a hat. me, who lived in the same home from age five (or four?) until college (and even returned for a post-wedding week with my husband while we waited to close on our house). i who just three weeks ago went to the second dentist i can ever remember going to. i have always loved to travel but have always needed a home. i have learned to make home in whatever corner of the world i occupy at the moment. but that doesn't totally fulfill my need for home, for roots, and now i find my self unsure of where those roots will go down and when.
still when i'm a mess, i still put on a vest with an s on my chest
settled or unsettled, out into the world i go. reading, writing, drawing, preaching, feeding, typing, listening, wondering, hearing, loving, learning, screwing up. but i don't go alone.
and all my sisters coming together saying yes i will, yes i can.
a year ago at this time, i was coming out of a seminary performance of the vagnia monologues that i helped produce. i was surrounded by women that i learned from, who inspired me, who make me want to be a better, and who have made me a better minister (when/if i get to have that title). reflecting on that, i realize how often when i struggle with who i am, what i am doing adn where i am going, i am not alone. all my sisters come together in my memories, in my bones, as i struggle, and it is by the collective power of their passion, compassion, love and strength, that i can say, yes, i will, yes, i can.
so even though i am not a part of a v-day celebration this year, i live grateful to all my sisters, and the women who have come before me, who have made me who i am and who give me the strength to muddle through to become someone better.
words in italics are some of the lyrics from superwoman. buy the song. seriously.
Monday, February 16, 2009
exposed brick
i have been to the dentist twice in two weeks, and will go back again this week. check up, step one of crown, and next week, step two of crown. ick. the good news is, i love my dentist's office. the people are great too, but i really do literally love the office.
it is in the middle of downtown oakland. from the outside, it is a non-descript store front with a very small sign. but, when you walk in, the space is warm and inviting. it is a mix of textures, and open and closed space. sitting in the dentist chair, i got to look (when i wasn't looking at the tv) at an exposed brick wall. on either side of me were standard office walls, but they only went up eight feet or so. after that, the space opened up into a second story criss-crossed by beams and capped off with a ceiling painted with a blue sky and scattered with skylights to allow as much natural, anti-institutional light to reach those nervous in their dental chairs. maybe space doesn't have this effect on everyone, but it certainly made my visit to the dentist much more pleasant.
looking at the exposed brick, i was recalling my favorite patch of exposed brick... in my cozy house in cincinnati. it was a re-develop by a community development corporation that strips the insides of the house down the to exterior walls, finishes the outside, finds a buyer, and works with the buyer to renovate the inside. our senior year of college, my most talented husband designed the inside of our first.
the fascinating part of this process was working with an existing shell, yet building something that reflecting who we were. the house was charming on its own. underneath the new walls as layers of wallpaper that date the different trends the structure has lived through. famous rookwood tiles surround an original fireplace. a second chimney, without a fire place, climbs the west end of the house. a stairway in the middle brings light from the third floor to the first. the rooms at the top of the stairs fit into the gables, filling the nooks and crannies with usable space under the sloped roof.
and that is just before the work was done. using all of this as resources to be transformed, my husband brought even more texture, even more light, even more life into the house. in the bedroom, he left the brick from the chimney exposed. by adding a bamboo floor and built in shelves, he created a room rich in texture that was hold together by the warm tones that the shelves, floor and wall shared. each room is like this--incorporating parts of the home's architecture that predated us into a new design that creates a richer environment for us to live in. without either the old or the new, there wouldn't be the dynamism that the house has.
so as i am pondering all of this in the dentist's chair, looking at my exposed brick wall and sweating the upcoming dental procedure, i wonder why it can be so hard for us to learn this lesson about the church. the architecture of our traditions are a rich resource that will inspire new, exciting, and fresh designs that allow a dynamic faith to live where nothing used to. this is what keeps the church alive across decades, centuries and millenia... the ability to incorporate the structures and details of the previous manifestation of the building into the new design of the community.
and yet, when the church is dying or dead, when it is on its last legs, nothing but a shell of what it once was, waiting for its next occupant, we hesitate to be creative. we hesitate to not just rebuild what was there before.
we should jump in, using what we have to inspire new, creative life that may only barely resemble the former manifestation of the church, but that will be no less glorious.
for awhile, i was pondering new church development (NCD) as my "call," after all, i am working for what was until recently an NCD and thrive on the space i am given to be creative and love making something from nothing. my artistic nature perhaps?
and yet, this rebuilding, this particular kind of architecture that requires the blending of the old and the new energizes me in a particular way. perhaps my call is to redevelopment/transformation/change making in existing communities... however you want to label it.
it is in the middle of downtown oakland. from the outside, it is a non-descript store front with a very small sign. but, when you walk in, the space is warm and inviting. it is a mix of textures, and open and closed space. sitting in the dentist chair, i got to look (when i wasn't looking at the tv) at an exposed brick wall. on either side of me were standard office walls, but they only went up eight feet or so. after that, the space opened up into a second story criss-crossed by beams and capped off with a ceiling painted with a blue sky and scattered with skylights to allow as much natural, anti-institutional light to reach those nervous in their dental chairs. maybe space doesn't have this effect on everyone, but it certainly made my visit to the dentist much more pleasant.
looking at the exposed brick, i was recalling my favorite patch of exposed brick... in my cozy house in cincinnati. it was a re-develop by a community development corporation that strips the insides of the house down the to exterior walls, finishes the outside, finds a buyer, and works with the buyer to renovate the inside. our senior year of college, my most talented husband designed the inside of our first.
the fascinating part of this process was working with an existing shell, yet building something that reflecting who we were. the house was charming on its own. underneath the new walls as layers of wallpaper that date the different trends the structure has lived through. famous rookwood tiles surround an original fireplace. a second chimney, without a fire place, climbs the west end of the house. a stairway in the middle brings light from the third floor to the first. the rooms at the top of the stairs fit into the gables, filling the nooks and crannies with usable space under the sloped roof.
and that is just before the work was done. using all of this as resources to be transformed, my husband brought even more texture, even more light, even more life into the house. in the bedroom, he left the brick from the chimney exposed. by adding a bamboo floor and built in shelves, he created a room rich in texture that was hold together by the warm tones that the shelves, floor and wall shared. each room is like this--incorporating parts of the home's architecture that predated us into a new design that creates a richer environment for us to live in. without either the old or the new, there wouldn't be the dynamism that the house has.
so as i am pondering all of this in the dentist's chair, looking at my exposed brick wall and sweating the upcoming dental procedure, i wonder why it can be so hard for us to learn this lesson about the church. the architecture of our traditions are a rich resource that will inspire new, exciting, and fresh designs that allow a dynamic faith to live where nothing used to. this is what keeps the church alive across decades, centuries and millenia... the ability to incorporate the structures and details of the previous manifestation of the building into the new design of the community.
and yet, when the church is dying or dead, when it is on its last legs, nothing but a shell of what it once was, waiting for its next occupant, we hesitate to be creative. we hesitate to not just rebuild what was there before.
we should jump in, using what we have to inspire new, creative life that may only barely resemble the former manifestation of the church, but that will be no less glorious.
for awhile, i was pondering new church development (NCD) as my "call," after all, i am working for what was until recently an NCD and thrive on the space i am given to be creative and love making something from nothing. my artistic nature perhaps?
and yet, this rebuilding, this particular kind of architecture that requires the blending of the old and the new energizes me in a particular way. perhaps my call is to redevelopment/transformation/change making in existing communities... however you want to label it.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
where i am
times of disorientation, when i feel more like staying where i am, than moving forward or backward. at least i know where i am now. it may be a mess, but it is my mess, my predictable mess, the mess that i understand. not long ago, i wanted to get out of seminary as fast as i could. now, i long for every last moment of every class, every last drop of insight, every formative relationship, every minute that i know that though i am in ministry, i am not the one in charge. i can always pass along the big stuff, the annoying stuff, the unmanageable stuff, to someone more capable.
this, it seems, may not be so sooner than i expected. but of course, i don't really know.
at the same time as i seem to be coming of age professionally (or on the verge of doing so), i am coming of age in new ways personally. the global economic shifts have caused personal shifts, and there is no one to pass the responsibility along to. i must deal.
i know where i am know. i do know where i will be or what i will be doing six months from now, and the fear has set in. it seems that times of fear are times when we might need our faith the most. can mine stand up? can it practically support decisions i must make about how much to spend or not spend, how long of a lease to sign, how to negotiate my future, when to grow up?
i am counting on God being bigger than my imagination right now.
this, it seems, may not be so sooner than i expected. but of course, i don't really know.
at the same time as i seem to be coming of age professionally (or on the verge of doing so), i am coming of age in new ways personally. the global economic shifts have caused personal shifts, and there is no one to pass the responsibility along to. i must deal.
i know where i am know. i do know where i will be or what i will be doing six months from now, and the fear has set in. it seems that times of fear are times when we might need our faith the most. can mine stand up? can it practically support decisions i must make about how much to spend or not spend, how long of a lease to sign, how to negotiate my future, when to grow up?
i am counting on God being bigger than my imagination right now.
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