Being a single mom to an infant is the hardest thing I've ever done. That's not necessarily saying a whole lot, because I am not really one to "stretch myself" or anything like that. Nevertheless, it is by far the hardest thing I've ever done, and I'm hoping it will be the hardest thing I ever do. Lying awake at night, wondering how on Earth I will ever pull off a successful attempt at parenting this tiny person who needs everything and whose needs are my sole responsibility to meet...facing the prospect of the next 18 years rearing this child...possibly all by myself for the duration.... That's really hard.
But the good news is that I am doing it anyway. I am scratching out a life for my son and me. It's not always on my terms and it's definitely not the life I ever wanted or planned, but I'm doing it. He is healthy and he is very happy and bright and secure, and I still have most of my hair. The inability to cope has been more about the circumstance of parenting solo while battling crippling fear than the actual child being parented. I knew it the minute I knew he was coming along that this baby is special, and he really is. He is my gift.
But motherhood has been really, really tough. Through no fault of Gabriel's -- he is the easiest toddler I have ever met and I am not just saying that because he is my child and I am blinded -- it's been almost too tough. I am too hard on myself. I second-guess too much. I am sensitive to anything remotely less than perfect and I am quick to assign blame and failure to myself. Compounded by a chronic lack of sleep and an ongoing health concern lately, my resolve and capacity have been faltering. I've stalled out, emotionally. On the outside, I'm moving along; on the inside, my thought life is a wreck.
I went through a period this summer during which I doubted everything, most off all my ability to do this parenting thing. Everything looked like failure to me, from my inability to provide enough for myself and my son to be fully independent and autonomous, to inability to get laundry folded and put away within three days of being washed. I just didn't think I could do it. I set a high bar for "success," whatever that is, and then I vilified myself for not meeting that standard. No matter that the standard is tough for a fully functioning family led by two adults in a healthy marriage and I am doing it on my own. Nevermind that my kid is a great kid. Nevermind that I am doing a good job as a mom and anyone who knows anything about kids has made it obvious that they think so. I couldn't -- still can't -- escape the constant feeling that I am not good enough, that I most assuredly will fail, and that whichever decision I make in this moment will ultimately set the trap that will break my leg down the road. I expect to fail. I anticipate it. And I try to move forward despite "knowing" that, sooner or later, something will turn into disaster.
I'm starting to come out of that dark hole of despair. I caught myself falling, and I started asking for help. It's ok to accept help, sure, and I am getting better about that, but more importantly I am coming around to the truth that it's ok to need help in the first place. We all need help at some point. These days I might be on the receiving end, but then I'll get a leg up and I'll be able to turn around and help the next person. And as one sweet friend recently reminded me, there are people who want to be able to give their help, and I should let them have the opportunity to do so. Helping is a two-way exchange, not one-way.
Through deliberate effort, I am examining my negative scripts and imposing changes. People are rallying for me, giving me new lines, challenging my expectations, putting candles in the dark corners. I am hearing that I can do this, that I am doing it, and that I am smart enough and capable enough to keep doing it, no matter what. They are telling me this over and over and over, across the board, from every direction.
One day, maybe, I will believe them.
In the meantime, my task is to keep moving forward. One hour, one clean-up, one whispered prayer, one menu plan, one Pat the Bunny, one desperate plea to God at a time.
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
9.30.2013
9.20.2013
nouwen on alarmist tendencies
Standing erect, holding our heads high, is the attitude of spiritually mature people in face of the calamities of our world. The facts of everyday life are a rich source for doomsday thinking and feeling. But it is possible for us to resist this temptation and to stand with self-confidence in this world, never losing our spiritual ground, always aware that "sky and earth will pass away" but the words of Jesus will never pass away (see Luke 21:33).
Let us be like Mary, the mother of Jesus, who stood under the cross, trusting in God's faithfulness notwithstanding the death of his beloved Child.
2.25.2013
some thoughts on baptism
This school year I've been going through the adult inquirer's class at the church where I've sort of planted myself. Inquiring means I am learning about pertinent topics in Christianity and how we as Christians and as Episcopalians can begin to think about these topics.
Most recently the class talked about baptism. I have never really understood baptism, and whenever I've tried to understand baptism, I get stuck in the "infant baptism doesn't make sense" trap. In short, here's the deal: baptism is a one-time thing (at least for mainline denominations). Once you're baptized, you're baptized. You can't undo it and you can't re-do it, either. The purpose of baptism is to set yourself apart with a public declaration of your acceptance of God, Jesus, the gospel, etc. There's a covenant involved, where you answer questions and make a commitment out loud in front of the congregation (who also makes commitments to you). It's an act of intent, and most people are required to go through some sort of education process beforehand, because it's kind of a big deal.
So because it's kind of a big deal, it's a one-time-only thing, and it's a personal commitment, the question is, why do we baptize babies? They aren't capable of making this commitment and shouldn't we let them choose for themselves? I was generally of this persuasion until this last inquirers class. That's when one of the other parents in my discussion group said something about how meaningful the line in the Episcopal baptismal covenant says "you are marked as a Child of God" (or something like that), and I started to rethink my stance.
It probably goes without saying at this point that Gabriel isn't baptized. This is in part because I wasn't sure I "agreed" with infant baptism, and it's also in part due to the fact that his dad is a minister and there is some inherent conflict there that I am not quite ready to face. If I had him baptized, I would want it to be at our church, where the people know and love him and he'll presumably grow up. I imagine Brian pictures himself as the one to baptize Gabriel, but I for personal reasons have a lot of reservations about that, because among other things I think it would be painful, awkward, or both, especially if he's still a baby. We could do it at my church, and the priests there have offered to have Brian involved if we did that, but it would be strange for me to see Brian in that context. We could do it at whatever church he'll be serving next, but that would be really weird for me, and I'm not sure what the point is if it's a congregation where no one knows him and he has no real connections. Someone suggested doing it at Brian's home church, where people know and care about all of us, but I don't plan on darkening their threshold any time soon, so that's out for me, too. There aren't any other churches in the area where we have any ties, too. So if I want to pursue this baptism thing, I am left with doing it somewhere not-at-a-church, which is fine except it kind of goes in contrast to one of my biggest draws to baptism -- the congregational witness. So I'm back to thinking maybe I shouldn't impose baptism on him and let him decide for himself when he's older, so we can follow his lead.
Hearing that line about him being marked as a child of Christ, though -- that's something this mama very much wants for her little boy.
Most recently the class talked about baptism. I have never really understood baptism, and whenever I've tried to understand baptism, I get stuck in the "infant baptism doesn't make sense" trap. In short, here's the deal: baptism is a one-time thing (at least for mainline denominations). Once you're baptized, you're baptized. You can't undo it and you can't re-do it, either. The purpose of baptism is to set yourself apart with a public declaration of your acceptance of God, Jesus, the gospel, etc. There's a covenant involved, where you answer questions and make a commitment out loud in front of the congregation (who also makes commitments to you). It's an act of intent, and most people are required to go through some sort of education process beforehand, because it's kind of a big deal.
So because it's kind of a big deal, it's a one-time-only thing, and it's a personal commitment, the question is, why do we baptize babies? They aren't capable of making this commitment and shouldn't we let them choose for themselves? I was generally of this persuasion until this last inquirers class. That's when one of the other parents in my discussion group said something about how meaningful the line in the Episcopal baptismal covenant says "you are marked as a Child of God" (or something like that), and I started to rethink my stance.
It probably goes without saying at this point that Gabriel isn't baptized. This is in part because I wasn't sure I "agreed" with infant baptism, and it's also in part due to the fact that his dad is a minister and there is some inherent conflict there that I am not quite ready to face. If I had him baptized, I would want it to be at our church, where the people know and love him and he'll presumably grow up. I imagine Brian pictures himself as the one to baptize Gabriel, but I for personal reasons have a lot of reservations about that, because among other things I think it would be painful, awkward, or both, especially if he's still a baby. We could do it at my church, and the priests there have offered to have Brian involved if we did that, but it would be strange for me to see Brian in that context. We could do it at whatever church he'll be serving next, but that would be really weird for me, and I'm not sure what the point is if it's a congregation where no one knows him and he has no real connections. Someone suggested doing it at Brian's home church, where people know and care about all of us, but I don't plan on darkening their threshold any time soon, so that's out for me, too. There aren't any other churches in the area where we have any ties, too. So if I want to pursue this baptism thing, I am left with doing it somewhere not-at-a-church, which is fine except it kind of goes in contrast to one of my biggest draws to baptism -- the congregational witness. So I'm back to thinking maybe I shouldn't impose baptism on him and let him decide for himself when he's older, so we can follow his lead.
Hearing that line about him being marked as a child of Christ, though -- that's something this mama very much wants for her little boy.
2.13.2013
ash wednesday
It's Ash Wednesday today. I've got a few things to do, not the least of which is to have a visible sign of my faith placed on my forehead. Below, I've pasted one of the scriptures for today. It's a piece of a larger something I memorized in the 6th grade...odd how I "knew" this scripture better back then, being able to recite it and all, but I didn't really know what it was saying.
I'm contemplating the practice of fasting this Lent. Have you ever fasted?
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
6:1 "Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.
6:2 "So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.
6:3 But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing,
6:4 so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
6:5 "And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.
6:6 But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
6:16 "And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.
6:17 But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face,
6:18 so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
6:19 "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal;
6:20 but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.
6:21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
I'm contemplating the practice of fasting this Lent. Have you ever fasted?
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
6:1 "Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.
6:2 "So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.
6:3 But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing,
6:4 so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
6:5 "And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.
6:6 But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
6:16 "And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.
6:17 But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face,
6:18 so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
6:19 "Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal;
6:20 but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.
6:21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
2.12.2013
preparing for lent, with a toddler
For a while now -- maybe a couple of years or so -- I've had an interest in celebrating the liturgical year, observing major feasts and festivals and liturgical traditions. I think it stems from my Lutheran upbringing steeped in liturgy. Before I was pregnant, I found myself browsing family blogs written by moms who are intentional about making church celebrations a part of their home life. Then I was pregnant, and then my marriage fell apart, and then I had a baby...and my interest in liturgy at home grew but my capacity to read shrank.
Now that I'm getting re-calibrated, I'm turning once again to liturgy, at church and at home. Really, liturgy is what drew me to the Episcopal church, and this rich church history of tradition and ritual is something I want to learn more of and teach my son.
Advent was kind of the beginning for me to dig back in, find the books, revisit the blogs, and get my head in the right place. Since then, I've been aware of what's going on in the liturgical year but I haven't done a whole lot of actual practice yet. And now, step one is right around the corner: Lent.
There's a real desire to carry Gabriel along with me and make these celebrations a part of his life from the beginning of his consciousness. He is not old enough to pick up on any of the significance of Lent, which leaves me a lot of room to get my feet wet and figure out how these celebrations might look for our little family. I'd like to involve him in ways that are age-appropriate, even though he isn't quite learning anything yet. It can still be a part of our collective memory -- the family memory. Celebrating the church calendar is something that we will say we do, that we've been doing since before the time he could remember anything.
Right now the primary resource is a book I found maybe a year and a half ago, called To Dance With God. I've read the book and it is rich with ideas, but it is so much more than a list of festivals and rituals. It's a resource for understanding the basics of theology, for finding ways to distill big concepts into things that can be grasped by people of all ages and experiences. I think maybe it's from a Catholic bent, but I could be wrong about that.
In addition, these are three of the blogs that I've found to be particularly helpful as I get my head around this whole church-at-home thing:
Like Mother, Like Daughter (this is actually one of my very favorite blogs of all time, hands down)
Watkins Every Flavor Beans (this one has a Montessori/Godly Play approach that I just love-love-love)
Carrots for Michaelmas (this one also has a homesteading/DIY sort of aspect, which of course I eat up)
At least two of these blogs are from Catholic families, though I haven't found that to get in the way of what I'm after. Episcopalians aren't necessarily too far from Catholics when it comes to liturgy, as best I can tell, though there is maybe not as strong of a push on the saint stuff.
If you're curious about celebrating the liturgical year, I'd recommend starting with any of the things I named above. I've found Pinterest to be another great resource, especially for digging up ideas for a specific feast or holiday (you can find my specific Pinterest board here). And there's also the good old internet search, beloved standby of mine (that's my referral link to Swagbucks, which I also love-love-love).
Now that I'm getting re-calibrated, I'm turning once again to liturgy, at church and at home. Really, liturgy is what drew me to the Episcopal church, and this rich church history of tradition and ritual is something I want to learn more of and teach my son.
Advent was kind of the beginning for me to dig back in, find the books, revisit the blogs, and get my head in the right place. Since then, I've been aware of what's going on in the liturgical year but I haven't done a whole lot of actual practice yet. And now, step one is right around the corner: Lent.
There's a real desire to carry Gabriel along with me and make these celebrations a part of his life from the beginning of his consciousness. He is not old enough to pick up on any of the significance of Lent, which leaves me a lot of room to get my feet wet and figure out how these celebrations might look for our little family. I'd like to involve him in ways that are age-appropriate, even though he isn't quite learning anything yet. It can still be a part of our collective memory -- the family memory. Celebrating the church calendar is something that we will say we do, that we've been doing since before the time he could remember anything.
Right now the primary resource is a book I found maybe a year and a half ago, called To Dance With God. I've read the book and it is rich with ideas, but it is so much more than a list of festivals and rituals. It's a resource for understanding the basics of theology, for finding ways to distill big concepts into things that can be grasped by people of all ages and experiences. I think maybe it's from a Catholic bent, but I could be wrong about that.
In addition, these are three of the blogs that I've found to be particularly helpful as I get my head around this whole church-at-home thing:
Like Mother, Like Daughter (this is actually one of my very favorite blogs of all time, hands down)
Watkins Every Flavor Beans (this one has a Montessori/Godly Play approach that I just love-love-love)
Carrots for Michaelmas (this one also has a homesteading/DIY sort of aspect, which of course I eat up)
At least two of these blogs are from Catholic families, though I haven't found that to get in the way of what I'm after. Episcopalians aren't necessarily too far from Catholics when it comes to liturgy, as best I can tell, though there is maybe not as strong of a push on the saint stuff.
If you're curious about celebrating the liturgical year, I'd recommend starting with any of the things I named above. I've found Pinterest to be another great resource, especially for digging up ideas for a specific feast or holiday (you can find my specific Pinterest board here). And there's also the good old internet search, beloved standby of mine (that's my referral link to Swagbucks, which I also love-love-love).
1.25.2013
bonhoeffer
Are you familiar with Dietrich Bonhoeffer? I'm only slightly familiar with his name and story. By many accounts, though, he was a great theologian and his writings are worth the read.
Two years ago (gasp) when I started taking an interest in theology, I came across a collection of brief excerpts of Bonhoeffer's essays and other writings. The book is one of those "year of daily devotion" books, and each day of the year has its own reading. At some point during that year (was it really two years ago?) someone gave me the book, and I set out to read it in 2012.
Confession: I made it about three days into the new year and realized that 2012 was not the right year.
When 2013 dawned, I thought again about reading Bonhoeffer. I have a little bit of traction now -- at least there's enough to read a paragraph or two on most days -- so I picked the book up again and put it in my reading basket. I'm now 23 days in, and I think it's possibly going to stick this time.
"Doing theology" does not come naturally to me. I've wanted to incorporate more of a spiritual dimension to my days, especially after having a baby, because God should be a part of our inner and outer lives if we profess to be Christians. I used to have a ton of "bible knowledge" and the easy, pat answers that you learn in Sunday school that supposedly answer all of your questions but lose their efficacy as you move into adulthood. Nowadays, I feel sometimes like I'm missing out on a spiritual depth that is within reach, if I only make the time to go there. This Bonhoeffer book is one step in that direction.
Who knows - maybe this year Gabriel will start asking questions about God and faith, and maybe I'll even have some answers for him.
(note: the link is not an affiliate link.)
Two years ago (gasp) when I started taking an interest in theology, I came across a collection of brief excerpts of Bonhoeffer's essays and other writings. The book is one of those "year of daily devotion" books, and each day of the year has its own reading. At some point during that year (was it really two years ago?) someone gave me the book, and I set out to read it in 2012.
Confession: I made it about three days into the new year and realized that 2012 was not the right year.
When 2013 dawned, I thought again about reading Bonhoeffer. I have a little bit of traction now -- at least there's enough to read a paragraph or two on most days -- so I picked the book up again and put it in my reading basket. I'm now 23 days in, and I think it's possibly going to stick this time.
"Doing theology" does not come naturally to me. I've wanted to incorporate more of a spiritual dimension to my days, especially after having a baby, because God should be a part of our inner and outer lives if we profess to be Christians. I used to have a ton of "bible knowledge" and the easy, pat answers that you learn in Sunday school that supposedly answer all of your questions but lose their efficacy as you move into adulthood. Nowadays, I feel sometimes like I'm missing out on a spiritual depth that is within reach, if I only make the time to go there. This Bonhoeffer book is one step in that direction.
Who knows - maybe this year Gabriel will start asking questions about God and faith, and maybe I'll even have some answers for him.
(note: the link is not an affiliate link.)
5.11.2011
regarding amendment 10a
Last night, a majority vote was reached in the PC(USA) for the adoption of Amendment 10A, which removes the definition of marriage as between man and woman and lifted the ordination standard of 'fidelity in marriage and chastity in singleness,' thereby allowing for homosexuals to be ordained as ministers, elders and deacons in the denomination.
I have mixed thoughts on the issue, many of which I will share in the coming days. But in the meantime, and in keeping with the recent trend of posting quotes on Wednesdays, I thought I would share with you this portion of an opinion on the matter shared by Dr. John B. (Mike) Loudon in a webinar hosted by the denomination. I should note that I am a fairly new member of the PC(USA), that the main reason I joined was so that I would be able to serve in voluntary administrative/leadership capacities at the church where my husband serves as Associate Pastor, and while I tend to be more conservative than the average Presbyterian, especially on issues related to sex and morality, I don't consider myself an Evangelical.
Emphasis below is mine. To read Dr. Loudon's full statements, or the text of a full point-counterpoint, click here. You'll find it about halfway down.
"Most progressives view the issue of gay and lesbian ordination as a justice issue – a civil rights issue. They see it in the context of other social stigmas addressed in scripture. My friend, Jack Rogers, in his book Jesus, the Bible, and Homosexuality writes that most people in the church have changed their minds on subjects such as race, the role of women, and the issue of divorce and remarriage, and therefore they should be able to change their minds on the issue of homosexuality.
"Most conservative evangelicals, on the other hand, some of whom are also very strong advocates of justice and civil rights, cannot get around the biblical texts that address the subject of homosexuality. They view the Bible as God’s divinely inspired word, and therefore believe they are compelled to trust it and live by it.
"The texts about homosexuality are not numerous, but they are of one mind on the subject.
"So the biblical witness against homosexual practice is of a single voice, it is morally wrong, and this is the reason that evangelicals do not view gay ordination as simply a justice and a civil rights issue. Evangelicals believe that homosexuality differs significantly from matters such as slavery or the subordination of women, concerning which the Bible contains internal tensions and a counter-posed witness. Therefore, deep divisions have arisen over the last few decades between progressives and evangelicals on this issue, and not just in the Presbyterian Church, but in many Christian denominations. We seem to be able to talk through our differences on most social, political, and theological divisions, but not on the subject of gay and lesbian ordination, or gay marriage for that matter.
"The new overture from General Assembly states, 'Standards for ordained service reflect the church’s desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life. The governing body responsible for ordination and/or installation shall examine each candidate’s calling, gifts, preparation, and suitability for the responsibilities of office. The examination shall include, but not be limited to, a determination of the candidate’s ability and commitment to fulfill all requirements as expressed in the constitutional questions for ordination and installation. Governing bodies shall be guided by scripture and the confessions in applying standards to individual candidates.'
"Most of us have no argument with what that says. The amendment is well thought out. Submitting to Jesus Christ brings joy. My liberal and progressive friends have done their homework well. I think it’s the best attempt yet to overturn the Fidelity and Chastity Amendment. But the problem is what this amendment does not say. It does not say, 'Among these standards is the requirement to live either in fidelity within the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman, or chastity in singleness.' Therein lies the rub. Those of us who are evangelicals believe that the new amendment removes an important constitutional standard on sexual purity and morality, a standard based on scripture that is extremely important to us, and such action is therefore unacceptable. If that standard is removed, many evangelicals and conservatives may come to the conclusion that the denomination has crossed an important boundary and abandoned moral truth and biblical principles."
I have mixed thoughts on the issue, many of which I will share in the coming days. But in the meantime, and in keeping with the recent trend of posting quotes on Wednesdays, I thought I would share with you this portion of an opinion on the matter shared by Dr. John B. (Mike) Loudon in a webinar hosted by the denomination. I should note that I am a fairly new member of the PC(USA), that the main reason I joined was so that I would be able to serve in voluntary administrative/leadership capacities at the church where my husband serves as Associate Pastor, and while I tend to be more conservative than the average Presbyterian, especially on issues related to sex and morality, I don't consider myself an Evangelical.
Emphasis below is mine. To read Dr. Loudon's full statements, or the text of a full point-counterpoint, click here. You'll find it about halfway down.
"Most progressives view the issue of gay and lesbian ordination as a justice issue – a civil rights issue. They see it in the context of other social stigmas addressed in scripture. My friend, Jack Rogers, in his book Jesus, the Bible, and Homosexuality writes that most people in the church have changed their minds on subjects such as race, the role of women, and the issue of divorce and remarriage, and therefore they should be able to change their minds on the issue of homosexuality.
"Most conservative evangelicals, on the other hand, some of whom are also very strong advocates of justice and civil rights, cannot get around the biblical texts that address the subject of homosexuality. They view the Bible as God’s divinely inspired word, and therefore believe they are compelled to trust it and live by it.
"The texts about homosexuality are not numerous, but they are of one mind on the subject.
"So the biblical witness against homosexual practice is of a single voice, it is morally wrong, and this is the reason that evangelicals do not view gay ordination as simply a justice and a civil rights issue. Evangelicals believe that homosexuality differs significantly from matters such as slavery or the subordination of women, concerning which the Bible contains internal tensions and a counter-posed witness. Therefore, deep divisions have arisen over the last few decades between progressives and evangelicals on this issue, and not just in the Presbyterian Church, but in many Christian denominations. We seem to be able to talk through our differences on most social, political, and theological divisions, but not on the subject of gay and lesbian ordination, or gay marriage for that matter.
"The new overture from General Assembly states, 'Standards for ordained service reflect the church’s desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life. The governing body responsible for ordination and/or installation shall examine each candidate’s calling, gifts, preparation, and suitability for the responsibilities of office. The examination shall include, but not be limited to, a determination of the candidate’s ability and commitment to fulfill all requirements as expressed in the constitutional questions for ordination and installation. Governing bodies shall be guided by scripture and the confessions in applying standards to individual candidates.'
"Most of us have no argument with what that says. The amendment is well thought out. Submitting to Jesus Christ brings joy. My liberal and progressive friends have done their homework well. I think it’s the best attempt yet to overturn the Fidelity and Chastity Amendment. But the problem is what this amendment does not say. It does not say, 'Among these standards is the requirement to live either in fidelity within the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman, or chastity in singleness.' Therein lies the rub. Those of us who are evangelicals believe that the new amendment removes an important constitutional standard on sexual purity and morality, a standard based on scripture that is extremely important to us, and such action is therefore unacceptable. If that standard is removed, many evangelicals and conservatives may come to the conclusion that the denomination has crossed an important boundary and abandoned moral truth and biblical principles."
3.09.2011
Ash Wednesday
Dust you are, and to dust you will return.
Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.
There's a deep quiet in my mind today as I prepare for tonight's service. The imposition of ashes causes a stillness that I'd like to recognize and embrace today.
I'll be back Friday with part 1 of a crazy story for you.
2.10.2011
book review: Radical
I just finished reading Radical, by David Platt. I received a free copy through Blogging for Books, a WaterBrook Multnomah program that sends bloggers free books in exchange for reviews. I posted my review here (it'd be swell if you ranked it after reading). You can check out all of my Blogging for Books reviews here.
In short, Radical (and another book with a similar focus, the Irresistible Revolution) completely altered my stupid notions about 'living for Jesus' and what 'being a Christian' should look like. I don't know that I'll really ever be the same. I certainly hope not.
In short, Radical (and another book with a similar focus, the Irresistible Revolution) completely altered my stupid notions about 'living for Jesus' and what 'being a Christian' should look like. I don't know that I'll really ever be the same. I certainly hope not.
12.10.2010
Emmanuel: God with Me
In case you didn't know
I'm surfing a major wave of doubt. Not necessarily doubt in God or the existence of God...it's more about the parameters of faith, specifically MY faith. I'm coming from a fairly conservative background and currently in a pretty liberal setting, so there's a lot of input to sort.
In talking to, and reading from, others who, like me, have undergone radical shifts in their understanding of Christianity, I've found a common theme: doubting almost always comes with a sense that God is not near. When your faith is strong, you feel close to God. When you begin to falter, or question, or re-evaluate, God feels further off.
Faith is more than feeling
I won't heartily sing praises for every aspect of my faith upbringing, but there are some important foundational things that my family and my church got right. One of these is the understanding that God isn't the one who moves closer and grows distant. It is we who are moving. We shift, and so our perception of God shifts. But I was always taught that, no matter what, God is here, right here, and that we either live in that truth or fail to see it.
I remember sharing this with friends when they would lament about God's distance. I would read the Psalms wherein David was wailing about how God had left him, and I would hope that somewhere, at some point, David would have realized that what had changed wasn't God's distance, but David's ability to see God in his circumstances.
Back in 2006, I learned some lessons about God's faithfulness - big, huge, life-altering lessons that had an immediate and lasting impact on me. Though I can't say I never doubt the existence of God or the role of the Bible, I can't conceive of God without faithfulness. If there is a God, then he(/she/it) is faithful.
The feeling remains that God is on the journey too.
For years, and maybe since day 1, I've included a statement from St. Teresa of Avila somewhere in the layout of this blog. (For a while now it's hung out in the About Me section.) I don't remember where I first read this statement, but it has served as a comforting reminder for years now.
Not only is God faithful, but God is on this journey - every journey - with me. If I could ever be sure of God, I would be sure of this.
I'm surfing a major wave of doubt. Not necessarily doubt in God or the existence of God...it's more about the parameters of faith, specifically MY faith. I'm coming from a fairly conservative background and currently in a pretty liberal setting, so there's a lot of input to sort.
In talking to, and reading from, others who, like me, have undergone radical shifts in their understanding of Christianity, I've found a common theme: doubting almost always comes with a sense that God is not near. When your faith is strong, you feel close to God. When you begin to falter, or question, or re-evaluate, God feels further off.
Faith is more than feeling
I won't heartily sing praises for every aspect of my faith upbringing, but there are some important foundational things that my family and my church got right. One of these is the understanding that God isn't the one who moves closer and grows distant. It is we who are moving. We shift, and so our perception of God shifts. But I was always taught that, no matter what, God is here, right here, and that we either live in that truth or fail to see it.
I remember sharing this with friends when they would lament about God's distance. I would read the Psalms wherein David was wailing about how God had left him, and I would hope that somewhere, at some point, David would have realized that what had changed wasn't God's distance, but David's ability to see God in his circumstances.
Back in 2006, I learned some lessons about God's faithfulness - big, huge, life-altering lessons that had an immediate and lasting impact on me. Though I can't say I never doubt the existence of God or the role of the Bible, I can't conceive of God without faithfulness. If there is a God, then he(/she/it) is faithful.
The feeling remains that God is on the journey too.
For years, and maybe since day 1, I've included a statement from St. Teresa of Avila somewhere in the layout of this blog. (For a while now it's hung out in the About Me section.) I don't remember where I first read this statement, but it has served as a comforting reminder for years now.
Not only is God faithful, but God is on this journey - every journey - with me. If I could ever be sure of God, I would be sure of this.
2.03.2010
a church dissolving isn't always a bad thing
When I was in college, and for a couple years after college, I attended a small community church in Durham, NC. At the very end of 2006, the leadership team called a congregational meeting - I don't remember if they called it an emergency meeting or not, but the feeling was definite one of urgency. We learned then that our pastor had been offered and accepted a (really cool) position with one of the big churches nearby. It seemed to be clear it was the right move for him.
The thing was, we as a church had been struggling for a while, financially and maybe to an extent relationally. There weren't many of us (maybe 50? 60? regularly? I'm bad at guessing numbers) and for whatever reason, we weren't really growing. Long story short, we were about to become pastor-less, and we had no money to hire an interim or even to conduct a search.
Within a couple of weeks, it became clear that the church as we knew it was going to close. Some folks decided to find a new church home, and others decided to band together and explore the options for moving forward (things like relaunching, finding another small, like-minded church to join and strengthen, partnering with a church plant coming to the area, etc).
This was the next in a series of events that 'freed' me to leave Chapel Hill and go do something else. (I moved to Richmond and got married, in case you were wondering.) Our last Sunday together was one of both sadness and celebration. Almost like a happy funeral. You know the kind.
Whenever people ask me what drew me to Richmond (or ask for "our story" which, it occurs to me, I don't think I've ever shared here...), I recount some back story. And my church dissolving is a big part of that story, as it was the last tie keeping me in a town when I didn't necessarily want to stay, otherwise.
Anyway, the back story goes something like this: I was living in Chapel Hill. I'd graduated 2 years earlier and I was ready for a change. Within a couple of months, I learned that my lease, my job, and my church would all end by July 2007. Everything that had kept me in Chapel Hill was about to be gone, and I was ready to go somewhere else and do something new.
I've noticed that people seem to react strongly to the church closing element. I don't know if it's because of the highly sensationalized splits we hear about, or the sad image a lot of folks might have of a dusty old church drying up and withering away, or maybe the unusual (but very interesting) idea that something dramatic happened and everybody quit. No matter what, there is almost always a question, and the assumption that something 'bad' happened is present 100% of the time.
But that's not how it was. Not really. I mean, people were unhappy with the situation. Discussions were tense. No clear option to move forward presented itself. Nobody wanted our church to end, and there was certainly some frustration and even anger to that end. But really, there was nothing to be done about it. People didn't shout and slam doors. There wasn't a mass exodus. And what brought us to our end wasn't drama. We - or at least many of us - accepted the circumstance, chose to spend what little time we had left together, and in the end, celebrated what had been. (That was my experience, anyway.)
The thing was, we as a church had been struggling for a while, financially and maybe to an extent relationally. There weren't many of us (maybe 50? 60? regularly? I'm bad at guessing numbers) and for whatever reason, we weren't really growing. Long story short, we were about to become pastor-less, and we had no money to hire an interim or even to conduct a search.
Within a couple of weeks, it became clear that the church as we knew it was going to close. Some folks decided to find a new church home, and others decided to band together and explore the options for moving forward (things like relaunching, finding another small, like-minded church to join and strengthen, partnering with a church plant coming to the area, etc).
This was the next in a series of events that 'freed' me to leave Chapel Hill and go do something else. (I moved to Richmond and got married, in case you were wondering.) Our last Sunday together was one of both sadness and celebration. Almost like a happy funeral. You know the kind.
Whenever people ask me what drew me to Richmond (or ask for "our story" which, it occurs to me, I don't think I've ever shared here...), I recount some back story. And my church dissolving is a big part of that story, as it was the last tie keeping me in a town when I didn't necessarily want to stay, otherwise.
Anyway, the back story goes something like this: I was living in Chapel Hill. I'd graduated 2 years earlier and I was ready for a change. Within a couple of months, I learned that my lease, my job, and my church would all end by July 2007. Everything that had kept me in Chapel Hill was about to be gone, and I was ready to go somewhere else and do something new.
I've noticed that people seem to react strongly to the church closing element. I don't know if it's because of the highly sensationalized splits we hear about, or the sad image a lot of folks might have of a dusty old church drying up and withering away, or maybe the unusual (but very interesting) idea that something dramatic happened and everybody quit. No matter what, there is almost always a question, and the assumption that something 'bad' happened is present 100% of the time.
But that's not how it was. Not really. I mean, people were unhappy with the situation. Discussions were tense. No clear option to move forward presented itself. Nobody wanted our church to end, and there was certainly some frustration and even anger to that end. But really, there was nothing to be done about it. People didn't shout and slam doors. There wasn't a mass exodus. And what brought us to our end wasn't drama. We - or at least many of us - accepted the circumstance, chose to spend what little time we had left together, and in the end, celebrated what had been. (That was my experience, anyway.)
When all was said and done and I was sitting alone in my apartment dealing with the full realization that I would never go back and I would never see many of those people again, I cried. It was hard. It was really hard. And while I do like being a part of this church here in Denver, I'm not sure I'll ever be in a church as deeply meaningful as that little church in Durham. I had been part of a real church family there. They had loved me and supported me during the worst years of my life. They accepted me unflinchingly when many of the people in my life were demanding I be different. I haven't found that in another church.
So, this particular church closing was not a bad thing. It was sad, yes, but not bad.
2.01.2010
The Installation
What do plumbing, software, and Brian all have in common?
They have to get installed!
Yesterday at 4pm, Brian's installation service took place at our new home church. This is some kind of Presbyterian formality that I don't quite understand yet, but basically the idea is, he is officially official now. (The Senior Pastor kept saying Brian was now 'riveted' to the church - I guess they want him to stick around a long time too!) Brian received his M-Div last fall, he was ordained on Nov. 1, and he began work at Wellshire on November something. November 10, I think. (I was too busy unpacking boxes to look at a calendar.) Anyway.
So he has been working at the church for about 2.5 months now. He has served on staff as their Minister of Youth, Young Adults and Alternative Worship. Staff meetings, pay check, the whole enchilada. But the installation is his formal beginning, I guess. Like I said, I don't understand Presbyterian ways yet.
HOWEVER. I am so proud of him. He had to overcome a lot to get to where he is today, and we are so happy to be here. (Except between the hours of 5 and 7am, for me. These are consistently unhappy for me. But this has more to do with Rory than with Denver or the church. I'm just not a morning person.) (Actually, speaking of Rory, we kept her up late again last night and she let me sleep until 6 today!)
Originally my mom was going to get in Saturday, but the giant snowstorm hit Raleigh about 6 hours before they were scheduled to fly out, and they didn't get in until Sunday evening. Just in time to watch Carolina suck it up lose to Virignia. (Virginia?!?!?)
The cake, however, did arrive. And we got all the leftovers. So please, come have cake. We have plenty.
They have to get installed!
Yesterday at 4pm, Brian's installation service took place at our new home church. This is some kind of Presbyterian formality that I don't quite understand yet, but basically the idea is, he is officially official now. (The Senior Pastor kept saying Brian was now 'riveted' to the church - I guess they want him to stick around a long time too!) Brian received his M-Div last fall, he was ordained on Nov. 1, and he began work at Wellshire on November something. November 10, I think. (I was too busy unpacking boxes to look at a calendar.) Anyway.
So he has been working at the church for about 2.5 months now. He has served on staff as their Minister of Youth, Young Adults and Alternative Worship. Staff meetings, pay check, the whole enchilada. But the installation is his formal beginning, I guess. Like I said, I don't understand Presbyterian ways yet.
HOWEVER. I am so proud of him. He had to overcome a lot to get to where he is today, and we are so happy to be here. (Except between the hours of 5 and 7am, for me. These are consistently unhappy for me. But this has more to do with Rory than with Denver or the church. I'm just not a morning person.) (Actually, speaking of Rory, we kept her up late again last night and she let me sleep until 6 today!)
Originally my mom was going to get in Saturday, but the giant snowstorm hit Raleigh about 6 hours before they were scheduled to fly out, and they didn't get in until Sunday evening. Just in time to watch Carolina suck it up lose to Virignia. (Virginia?!?!?)
The cake, however, did arrive. And we got all the leftovers. So please, come have cake. We have plenty.
12.14.2009
Advent Wreath on the Mantle
Growing up, I kind of missed the whole Advent boat. I didn't learn much about it at church and I didn't learn much about it at home. Advent was, in my eyes, church lingo for 'the Christmas season.' In recent conversations, I've learned that a lot of churches fail when it comes to teaching about Advent. If you missed that one Sunday school lesson or that Bible study night, you're in the dark. We light these random candles up by the communion table (not the altar, as so many people call it) or on the chancel (maybe it's a pulpit to you) and read some stuff and then get on with the service.
In the past couple of years, my attention has been turned to Advent and learning what it's all about. I get the hope/peace/joy/love thing now, the quietly preparing our hearts for the arrival of the Savior thing. Advent has added a whole new dimension to my experience of Christmas.
For a couple of years now, I've wanted to make an Advent wreath. As an Advent 'novice,' I thought there was a specific way to make a wreath...in other words, a right way or a wrong way. I thought it needed to be round. I thought there had to be greenery. I thought you had to have the right colored candles or else your Advent wreath wasn't really an Advent wreath. I just didn't know any better. So I bought a foam ring, but the process stopped there. Because I don't know how to build an advent wreath from a foam circle. As Advent arrived this year, I sighed and thought about how maybe by next year I will have figured it out.
And then I read this post by Rachel from Small Notebook. And I realized that an Advent wreath is really just 5 candles, with one taller or bigger or otherwise distinguished from the rest. There aren't really rules to follow. There isn't a wrong way to celebrate Advent.
It's amazing how bound up we can be without even realizing it. There is so much freedom to be had when we lose the fear of doing something incorrectly. Flylady has so much to say on this very topic (and for those of you who are struggling with feeling overwhelmed, I encourage you to check out Flylady. She has changed my life, for the better).
I went to my candle/vase shelf in my linen closet (I have a linen closet now!!) and pulled out five candle holders - four little red ones I'd just picked up from Pier 1 on the clearance shelf as a whim, and a red-and-gold cut glass one my mom gave me a few years ago. Up they went on the mantle.
And now we have an Advent wreath.
4.07.2009
Consistency and Inconsistency
Last Sunday morning we went to the Episcopal church down the street. That denomination's worship service doesn't seem to have much of an impact on Brian other than his glee that it was half an hour long, and our guest is practically half-Catholic so she seemed naturally comfortable with the service.
For me, though...there's something I love about the Episcopal church - the physical structures, the worship spaces. There's something about the real sacredness I feel in the sanctuaries. There's an openness in (most of) these churches that - for me, at least - is warm, inviting, and secure. I love the sense of holiness and reverence. I love the emphasis on God, by way of Jesus, instead of "Jesus is my boyfriend" message I get at a lot of churches. (Jesus and I have issues, you see, and I'm not quite as comfortable with that portion of the Trinity.)
My early childhood was spent attending an Episcopal church. Granted, we had folding chairs instead of pews, not much in the way of stained glass, and a 'live band' to accompany the choir instead of an organ. But those Anglican practices were my first exposure to the faith. When I was 8 or 9, we moved across town and started going to a Lutheran church. Similar liturgies and whatnot, but with a much more 'PoMo' approach (that church was pomo way before it was hip to be pomo). We danced, we skipped around the communion table (aka altar, except not), we waved flags and beat on tambourines. It was lively, and we spent Sunday mornings Raisin Praises to the Lord Jesus. When I went to college, I went way outside of the liturgical box, so when I married Brian, I was happy to be marrying back into a denomination.
But the Presbyterian church, for all its merits, is somewhat lacking, for me. I understand more, yes, and can appreciate why we do things the way we do, but I find it all together too...formulaic. Practiced. Premeditated, maybe, is closer to the right word. Everything studied, identified, labeled, and understood. The motions are set out for us, and we go through them mindlessly. Here we are, going to church every Sunday, where we say this prayer and sing that song and we hear a message in 14 minutes and 59 seconds or less, we shake hands, and we go about having another Presbyterian Sunday. All of the thinking, feeling, and praying is set out for us, which - for me - strips the experience of faith down to mere words in the bulletin.
That's not to say that there isn't variance. It's not boring. It's very pleasant. But for me, my faith as practiced in the Presbyterian churches I've visited way feels very self-focused. There's no impetus to take my own faith into my own hands. There's no direct challenge - everything is set up in advance, so that the weekly practice of faith is as impersonal as possible. Presbyterians won't press you or question you. They respect you, where you are, in your own walk. They let you do your thing. For some, this is wonderful. This is exactly what some people need. And for centuries, it has worked for millions and millions of Christians.
For me, though, I don't want to be on my own. Sunday, at the Episcopal church, we prayed for specific members, bishops, regional and national leaders, other churches in the area, other Christian denominations, and other churches across the country. One by one, we took moments to pray for our leaders and our brethren in the (broader) faith. Every Sunday, Episcopalians join in these prayers, and are led by a calendar. Over the period of a month or a year, every congregant, every leader, every Christian denomination, all area churches, and hundreds or maybe thousands of churches receive specific, focused, deliberate prayer. I nearly cried.
In that moment, I realized how much I've missed that kind of deliberate approach to my faith, joined in effort by my congregation and my fellow believers.
11.26.2008
Thanksfulness => Faithfulness
I have a whole lot to be thankful for this year.
The economy is tough, yes, and that's no way to start off married life, but we actually are more stable this year than last year, financially. Even though it's pretty tough and there are some days that I just want to go home, I am really thankful for a job that gives me fulfilling work and allows me to make a difference in real lives, every day. It's easy to lose sight of the importance of that.
I'm thankful that Brian and I survived our first year of marriage. I know he was the right choice for me - even on the bad days, I am sure of it.
I'm thankful that I have a family who will take care of some of our basic needs when necessary - offering cars, doggie care, and even ESPN.
I'm thankful to live in a country where we can elect officials - and then be free to hate on them, when necessary. Granted, I don't think it's become socially acceptable to hate on our president-elect publicly yet, but I'm thankful that that day will come too.
I'm VERY thankful to have a car that is paid off and is working. It's reliable, which means I don't have to worry about breakdowns when I'm on the road. It means we can travel to Chapel Hill tonight, to Concord tomorrow, and to Asheville the day after, without worry.
I'm thankful that God still teaches me about how to trust him. I've been careful about not overspending this year, and I've been comfortable with that idea for the most part - it's in my nature to want to do big, special gifts. But right when I began to fret about 'all those' expenses combined with the gas to get us from Richmond to Hershey to Concord and back, some unexpected events converged to get us over the hump, with some to spare. Things like a $500 honorarium, lots of birthday money for Brian, a couple of monetary anniversary gifts, and a prize drawing for $100 at amazon. God has always been faithful to me, and he has provided once again.
11.05.2008
books and God
For my response to last week's Booking Through Thursday, I wrote about the different relationships I have with books. And something struck me.
In a way, my relationship with books 'takes a page' from my relationship with God. You probably don't know much about my relationship with God, and I can only sum it up by saying it's multi-faceted. If it could be objectified or illustrated in some way, I think books would do a great job. Let me explain.
One facet of my relationship with God is that long-standing deep loyalty, showing lots of wear and tear. He's been with me through some major ups and downs. I've relied on his steady hand and turned to him again and again to find something comforting and safe and familiar.
Sometimes God is a reference or a teacher. His opinions and writings (the Bible and words from other believers) help guide and shape my world view. When I don't know how to answer a question, I check the scriptures and various interpretations to see what's there.
And then there's the awe/respect thing. I recently had a conversation with my mom about the type of church services I prefer. My family gets the most from 'charismatic' services, where it's more than just a contemporary setting (aka chairs and a band rather than pews and a choir) and extends into a more adoration-oriented worship style. Me, I prefer a service that has more of the traditional, austere feel. I like the deliberately guided service and the old hymns. I like to approach Sunday mornings as a time of commitment and devotion and learning, not necessarily fun and entertainment and energy.
My bible collection demonstrates all of this pretty well. I have an illustrated Precious Moments bible that I've had since very early childhood. It's pretty old by now, but I've carted it off everywhere and I still like to look at the pictures. I also have a 'working bible' - the one my private school gave me in the 5th grade, and I've done all my studying and reflecting in this bible. The cover is falling apart and has been taped back on once or twice, and there are lots of marks and notes inside. I also have a 'beautiful' bible - it's leather-bound with my name embossed on the cover. I keep this one at the office in a special cover. There are a few others floating around - an NRSV edition my brother and I bought together, a small 'backpack' bible that I keep in the glove box of my car, a Spanish/English parallel bible, and a really pretty tapestry-covered one that my brother gave me for Christmas a few years ago. Between my husband, who is in seminary, and my own history as a Christian, we have at least a whole shelf of them - or would, if they were all in the same location.
In what ways do your relationships with books mirror other relationships in your life?
In a way, my relationship with books 'takes a page' from my relationship with God. You probably don't know much about my relationship with God, and I can only sum it up by saying it's multi-faceted. If it could be objectified or illustrated in some way, I think books would do a great job. Let me explain.
One facet of my relationship with God is that long-standing deep loyalty, showing lots of wear and tear. He's been with me through some major ups and downs. I've relied on his steady hand and turned to him again and again to find something comforting and safe and familiar.
Sometimes God is a reference or a teacher. His opinions and writings (the Bible and words from other believers) help guide and shape my world view. When I don't know how to answer a question, I check the scriptures and various interpretations to see what's there.
And then there's the awe/respect thing. I recently had a conversation with my mom about the type of church services I prefer. My family gets the most from 'charismatic' services, where it's more than just a contemporary setting (aka chairs and a band rather than pews and a choir) and extends into a more adoration-oriented worship style. Me, I prefer a service that has more of the traditional, austere feel. I like the deliberately guided service and the old hymns. I like to approach Sunday mornings as a time of commitment and devotion and learning, not necessarily fun and entertainment and energy.
My bible collection demonstrates all of this pretty well. I have an illustrated Precious Moments bible that I've had since very early childhood. It's pretty old by now, but I've carted it off everywhere and I still like to look at the pictures. I also have a 'working bible' - the one my private school gave me in the 5th grade, and I've done all my studying and reflecting in this bible. The cover is falling apart and has been taped back on once or twice, and there are lots of marks and notes inside. I also have a 'beautiful' bible - it's leather-bound with my name embossed on the cover. I keep this one at the office in a special cover. There are a few others floating around - an NRSV edition my brother and I bought together, a small 'backpack' bible that I keep in the glove box of my car, a Spanish/English parallel bible, and a really pretty tapestry-covered one that my brother gave me for Christmas a few years ago. Between my husband, who is in seminary, and my own history as a Christian, we have at least a whole shelf of them - or would, if they were all in the same location.
In what ways do your relationships with books mirror other relationships in your life?
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