I've been walking the dark journey of divorce with a woman for several years now. This seems to be a specialty of my ministry and I am grateful that God is able to use those ugly days of my own life in ways that perhaps support others. This week we went to court again in an ongoing dispute with this woman's ex. And while I view my role with these women who call on me as merely a traveling companion, my own soul is always impacted in some manner.
My friend, like most divorced women, is strapped for cash. Actually she is in dire straights, and her faith and courage in the face of her ongoing struggles is inspirational and admirable. But strapped for cash with children at home equals no money for an attorney. So when an ex spouse decides to be a jerk and take a matter to court, no attorney equals a scary place in which to be. If you really think our legal system is fair, take a day and sit in a courtroom. You will quickly see that if you have the funds to hire an attorney, you may get a shot at justice. But no funds for an attorney? You probably won't even make it into our legal system. Our legal system works for those who can pay to play the games. But when the court calls, you go. And so this week we found ourselves entering into the place of justice, that place in our political system that weighs the dispute and supposedly finds the answer.
Usually my visits to the courtroom leave me shaking my head and wondering where the humanity is. Where is Jesus in all of this mess (because the courtroom is a living testimony to the mess of life)? But this week I was bombarded with experiences of mercy, something I don't usually equate with our legal system. Don't misunderstand; my friend's case was not settled yet, there was no justice and certainly no mercy doled out for her that day. But God's mercy was evident in abundance just the same.
I knew my friend had been in touch with the legal aid system in our state. But knowing how overwhelmed that system is, I had no expectations that a court matter of this type would get their attention. How wrong I was! My heart just burst with thanks to God when not only the attorney from legal aid, but a law student studying there, showed up as well. I was flooded with thanks for the people in our world who give their talent and education to us without need for immense compensation. This man could earn a very handsome income in our city, but instead he chose to share his gifts with all, not just those of means. His beat up, tattered brief case attested to this fact. What a contrast to the other attorneys who strutted in and out of the courtroom.
And then in came the court appointed interpreter. Not for us of course, but for a Spanish speaking man whose employer was still withholding child support payments from his checks despite the fact that he had met his obligations. A man who clearly needed every dollar he could to make ends meet. With grace and dignity, both the interpreter and the judge listened to the man's story. Justice was dispensed in mercy for his situation.
And the judge himself. I've been in his courtroom before, and am always quite impressed, always wishing more judges gave the careful attention to the details of the case while also listening to the stories people are telling them, as he does. He did not disappoint me this week. I heard him explain to a woman that if her ex did not take the court required parenting class, the judge would not sign a joint custody or joint parenting agreement. Now, the woman did not understand what he was telling her, but all the same this judge was protecting those children, and probably the woman as well!
And then there was my friend. Who rushed from the courtroom when the woman I just mentioned left. My friend could not tolerate the thought of this mother leaving and not really understanding what had just happened. Even in her own fear and doubt, my friend was compelled to reach out to this other mother, to someone she had never met, would never see again. And so she explained to her what the judge was doing and why. And the other mother left relieved.
Mercy....all over the place this week. Attorneys who are in their profession to give aid to all, those aspects of our court system (like interpreters and required parenting classes) that really do try to provide justice to all, judges who take their roles so seriously while also being human, people like my friend who can still step outside their own pain and struggles to help a stranger in need. Yes, Jesus was in the courtroom this week. Amen!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Decently and in Order
The Presbyterian Church's tag line is 'decently and in order' from 1 Corinthians chapter 14. So about now, those of you who know me are scratching your heads, wondering 'what is SHE doing in THAT denomination?' I will be the first to admit that while I think I handle the decently portion just fine, its that orderly thing that always trips me up. For most of my life I have been able to fool people. Most are shocked the first time they see my office. What a mess! I like to claim that I keep an orderly MIND, which is fairly true, although advancing age is putting a dent in that as well. So while I appear organized to others, I really cannot keep papers organized, I cannot figure out how to keep my laundry in the drawers, I don't know what to do with magazines, fliers, reports and all that other info that comes into my home or office. But here I am in the PC(USA) being asked to approach all things with decency and order!
This struck me yesterday as my office is still under construction. A call to jury duty as well as a day-long denominational meeting have set me back at least two full days. Add in that lovely Protestant invention for the summer; Vacation Bible School, and I'm behind the eight ball in the office refurbishment area. And guess what? It's beginning to bother me! The lack of order, having no decent place to put my books, my laptop, my artwork, is all taking a toll. Simply put, I'm antsy to get back into my office in a manner that suits the ministry I want and need to do! While those blue baseboards still require another coat of white paint, I raised the white flag instead. Too humid for painting, I gave my painting partner and myself the day off and put the office back into a 'decent and orderly' arrangement. It felt terrific! Maybe the Presbyterians are onto something.
My other musing on this topic came out of Tuesday's Presbytery meeting, a five x/year gathering of the local congregations. One of the aspects I love about the PC(USA) is its insistence that we are all part of the priesthood of believers, that we are all gifted for the work of the Kingdom, and that we are all called to use those gifts for that endeavor. What this looks like in denominational life, is that we are not a hierarchical organization that approaches ministry and the world from the top down from only a clergy perspective. Nor are we an independent, congregational organization that approaches such matters from just the pews. Our approach requires an equal number of lay leaders and clergy working together to set the vision and direction for the church and carry that vision forward.
So the Presbytery meetings are gatherings of lay leaders and clergy that deal with the business of individuals' needs, congregational needs, and the corporate needs of the denomination. I had been once before to just a portion of a meeting, so this was my first full day of attendance. I was pleasantly surprised to run into quite a few people I already knew and of course to meet some new to me. I traveled to the meeting with two older couples who have been longtime attendees; one clergy and one lay leader. They were great companions to explain processes and terminology.
And worship! Oh my! Fill a sanctuary with committed laity and clergy and the affect is astounding. The first corporate prayer blew me out of my seat with its commitment from the gathered community. And talk about hearing hymns sung with gusto, fervor, and delight. The song that emanated from the pews was so inspiring. It was a deep joy to be part of such a worshipping group. Now, it was a very very long day! But for the most part it was enlightening and educating. It was good to be there...
And so I ponder Paul's words and intentions. Of course, he was speaking to a congregational need: worship is filled with the Spirit, but must also be conducted in a manner that allows for all to share their gifts. I was privileged to worship in just such a manner at Tuesday's meeting. I was privileged to feel the affects of disorder in my personal being. I am privileged....praise be to God!
This struck me yesterday as my office is still under construction. A call to jury duty as well as a day-long denominational meeting have set me back at least two full days. Add in that lovely Protestant invention for the summer; Vacation Bible School, and I'm behind the eight ball in the office refurbishment area. And guess what? It's beginning to bother me! The lack of order, having no decent place to put my books, my laptop, my artwork, is all taking a toll. Simply put, I'm antsy to get back into my office in a manner that suits the ministry I want and need to do! While those blue baseboards still require another coat of white paint, I raised the white flag instead. Too humid for painting, I gave my painting partner and myself the day off and put the office back into a 'decent and orderly' arrangement. It felt terrific! Maybe the Presbyterians are onto something.
My other musing on this topic came out of Tuesday's Presbytery meeting, a five x/year gathering of the local congregations. One of the aspects I love about the PC(USA) is its insistence that we are all part of the priesthood of believers, that we are all gifted for the work of the Kingdom, and that we are all called to use those gifts for that endeavor. What this looks like in denominational life, is that we are not a hierarchical organization that approaches ministry and the world from the top down from only a clergy perspective. Nor are we an independent, congregational organization that approaches such matters from just the pews. Our approach requires an equal number of lay leaders and clergy working together to set the vision and direction for the church and carry that vision forward.
So the Presbytery meetings are gatherings of lay leaders and clergy that deal with the business of individuals' needs, congregational needs, and the corporate needs of the denomination. I had been once before to just a portion of a meeting, so this was my first full day of attendance. I was pleasantly surprised to run into quite a few people I already knew and of course to meet some new to me. I traveled to the meeting with two older couples who have been longtime attendees; one clergy and one lay leader. They were great companions to explain processes and terminology.
And worship! Oh my! Fill a sanctuary with committed laity and clergy and the affect is astounding. The first corporate prayer blew me out of my seat with its commitment from the gathered community. And talk about hearing hymns sung with gusto, fervor, and delight. The song that emanated from the pews was so inspiring. It was a deep joy to be part of such a worshipping group. Now, it was a very very long day! But for the most part it was enlightening and educating. It was good to be there...
And so I ponder Paul's words and intentions. Of course, he was speaking to a congregational need: worship is filled with the Spirit, but must also be conducted in a manner that allows for all to share their gifts. I was privileged to worship in just such a manner at Tuesday's meeting. I was privileged to feel the affects of disorder in my personal being. I am privileged....praise be to God!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Haunted
I don't even know where to begin. Suffice it to say I am a spoiled, privileged white girl from the suburbs. My parents adored each other and provided an Ozzie and Harriet upbringing for my brothers and me. (Sorry if that means nothing to you...just say an enchanted childhood!) While I myself am divorced and dragged my three children through the mud of a bad marriage turned even uglier by our legal system, I myself have led a sheltered and narrow life.
Until today....my gut is wrenching, my heart wrended. I guess in my head I know we adults are capable of the worst sort of torment in mistreating and abusing children, but never before have I had to face it right under my nose in such a short time period.
I've been getting to know a dear child that is new in my life. She is cute, perky, independent (perhaps too much so!) and sharp as a tack. I don't want to betray her, but just know that I got quite an education today (even though I have parented three teenagers myself!). I cannot begin to imagine what this poor child has lived through. She was open and honest with me, sharing a life that hopefully most of us can never begin to imagine. Thank God for the people who are her parents now...she is amazing, they are amazing.
But in the midst of getting to know this girl, sharing our time and our stories together, along came a tiny knock in another part of my life. The pastor and secretary (the only other staff) had long left the church building, so I went to see who was there. Peering through the window of the door was a child. An elf of a boy, maybe 8 or 10 years old. All alone. Deep wide brown eyes. Beautiful dark chocolate brown hair that hung in a bowl cut around his head. "Can you help us?"
And then it began, the typical beggar's routine. A story that spins from one tragedy to the next, too quickly (hopefully) for you to keep track of the details, to see the untruths. The truth is always buried somewhere in the spun untruth: lost, on the edge, outside the norms of society, playing you for hopefully all you are worth. I stood there amazed, saddened, stunned, and wanting to hear a different story. But soon realized that someone was setting this poor child up, someone out of sight had sent this child to the door of the church. Who does this? What leads an adult to such horrific behavior? Is it true desperation? Is it really just food they are after, sustenance of any kind? Or is this some horrible manipulation of an innocent for drugs, alcohol or any of a number of indecent or illegal gains? Jesus' tears rained down on my heart.
I caught this dear child in a lie, and his heart is still so pure that he looked at me with those huge eyes and said "no, Ma'am" confessing the truth. Oh what do I do with this?? If I give him some of the cash we hold for emergency situations, what does that teach him and the adult in his life? If he is "successful" getting something out of me, is this then just an exercise in affirming a future life of begging for him? If I give him nothing, does he indeed go away hungry, or does the adult parked beyond sight go away without a fix?
I opted to give him a listing of local social service agencies. I specifically told him how to get to the closest one, and showed him the icons that indicate which agencies give food, cash, or fuel coupons. I knew someone was driving him (the lie I caught him in) but still wondered if this was the right option. After he left, I could only see those huge brown eyes and hear his polite conversation in my my memory. I felt like the biggest cop out in history, passing his situation on to an agency (if indeed he ever made it there.).
And so tonight I am haunted...by this child begging at the door, by the travisties that we thrust upon children, by the ways we manipulate them and force them to grow up years before their time. But that is the trap; children cannot grow up before their time. And so these terrifying situations leave them in places of suspended life. No matter how brave they are, how much they try, a child is a child. And should never, ever, never be asked to handle a life that is too adult, too grown up, too sinister, too selfish. God forgive us all.
Until today....my gut is wrenching, my heart wrended. I guess in my head I know we adults are capable of the worst sort of torment in mistreating and abusing children, but never before have I had to face it right under my nose in such a short time period.
I've been getting to know a dear child that is new in my life. She is cute, perky, independent (perhaps too much so!) and sharp as a tack. I don't want to betray her, but just know that I got quite an education today (even though I have parented three teenagers myself!). I cannot begin to imagine what this poor child has lived through. She was open and honest with me, sharing a life that hopefully most of us can never begin to imagine. Thank God for the people who are her parents now...she is amazing, they are amazing.
But in the midst of getting to know this girl, sharing our time and our stories together, along came a tiny knock in another part of my life. The pastor and secretary (the only other staff) had long left the church building, so I went to see who was there. Peering through the window of the door was a child. An elf of a boy, maybe 8 or 10 years old. All alone. Deep wide brown eyes. Beautiful dark chocolate brown hair that hung in a bowl cut around his head. "Can you help us?"
And then it began, the typical beggar's routine. A story that spins from one tragedy to the next, too quickly (hopefully) for you to keep track of the details, to see the untruths. The truth is always buried somewhere in the spun untruth: lost, on the edge, outside the norms of society, playing you for hopefully all you are worth. I stood there amazed, saddened, stunned, and wanting to hear a different story. But soon realized that someone was setting this poor child up, someone out of sight had sent this child to the door of the church. Who does this? What leads an adult to such horrific behavior? Is it true desperation? Is it really just food they are after, sustenance of any kind? Or is this some horrible manipulation of an innocent for drugs, alcohol or any of a number of indecent or illegal gains? Jesus' tears rained down on my heart.
I caught this dear child in a lie, and his heart is still so pure that he looked at me with those huge eyes and said "no, Ma'am" confessing the truth. Oh what do I do with this?? If I give him some of the cash we hold for emergency situations, what does that teach him and the adult in his life? If he is "successful" getting something out of me, is this then just an exercise in affirming a future life of begging for him? If I give him nothing, does he indeed go away hungry, or does the adult parked beyond sight go away without a fix?
I opted to give him a listing of local social service agencies. I specifically told him how to get to the closest one, and showed him the icons that indicate which agencies give food, cash, or fuel coupons. I knew someone was driving him (the lie I caught him in) but still wondered if this was the right option. After he left, I could only see those huge brown eyes and hear his polite conversation in my my memory. I felt like the biggest cop out in history, passing his situation on to an agency (if indeed he ever made it there.).
And so tonight I am haunted...by this child begging at the door, by the travisties that we thrust upon children, by the ways we manipulate them and force them to grow up years before their time. But that is the trap; children cannot grow up before their time. And so these terrifying situations leave them in places of suspended life. No matter how brave they are, how much they try, a child is a child. And should never, ever, never be asked to handle a life that is too adult, too grown up, too sinister, too selfish. God forgive us all.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Stories
Stories...ours, our family's, God's. Stories that connect us to each other and to deeper meanings, but sometimes that just help us claim a bit more of ourselves, stories that help us understand and remember better who we are.
Recently I was traumatized, and I really mean that, by events occuring at the church where I worked. I was stunned, shocked, saddened, and bewildered by the choices the pastor was making and the willingness of others to follow blindly. As a staff member, it was a dicey walk with no one really to talk to. The pastor's actions were causing me to fear my own journey towards ordination. If this was what would happen, I wanted none of it.
In God's infinite love, my husband had had a brief business encounter with a retired Anglican priest. Out of his love for me, he called her and asked if we could stop by and just chat for a bit. She opened her home and her heart to us that evening and we spent an amazing hour in the presence of the Spirit and a gifted pastor. One of the most powerful statements she kept repeating to me was 'remember who you are.' Yes, remember who I am; a beloved child of God, a unique creation with her own gifts and calling, a disciple willing to follow.
I was reminded yesterday of my time with the priest as well as my first encounter with another amazing woman of God. Ten years ago I met an Adrian Dominican nun who would impact my life in ways I could never begin to imagine then. But at our first meeting, she reminded me to 'choose life.' Yes, "this day I set before you life and death, choose life" (Deut 30:19). I wasn't sure how to choose life that day, but with her help and the Spirit, I think I learned over time. The challenge is to always keep that choice as part of the decision; which action, which choice will lead to life in the Spirit?
What prompted these stories to flood my brain yesterday? The new pastor had reviewed my Learning/Serving Covenant and had an amazing suggestion: what about a piece on self care? Again, what do I make of a pastor who considers self care (and prayer) part of the necessities of life? Hmmmm! His suggestion led me back to consider a covenant that will remember, and honor, who I am as well as help me to choose life each and every day. How to write that in terms of goals and objectives became a delicious task for the afternoon.
Now I simply need the Spirit to keep me on the track of remembering, choosing....living fully.
Recently I was traumatized, and I really mean that, by events occuring at the church where I worked. I was stunned, shocked, saddened, and bewildered by the choices the pastor was making and the willingness of others to follow blindly. As a staff member, it was a dicey walk with no one really to talk to. The pastor's actions were causing me to fear my own journey towards ordination. If this was what would happen, I wanted none of it.
In God's infinite love, my husband had had a brief business encounter with a retired Anglican priest. Out of his love for me, he called her and asked if we could stop by and just chat for a bit. She opened her home and her heart to us that evening and we spent an amazing hour in the presence of the Spirit and a gifted pastor. One of the most powerful statements she kept repeating to me was 'remember who you are.' Yes, remember who I am; a beloved child of God, a unique creation with her own gifts and calling, a disciple willing to follow.
I was reminded yesterday of my time with the priest as well as my first encounter with another amazing woman of God. Ten years ago I met an Adrian Dominican nun who would impact my life in ways I could never begin to imagine then. But at our first meeting, she reminded me to 'choose life.' Yes, "this day I set before you life and death, choose life" (Deut 30:19). I wasn't sure how to choose life that day, but with her help and the Spirit, I think I learned over time. The challenge is to always keep that choice as part of the decision; which action, which choice will lead to life in the Spirit?
What prompted these stories to flood my brain yesterday? The new pastor had reviewed my Learning/Serving Covenant and had an amazing suggestion: what about a piece on self care? Again, what do I make of a pastor who considers self care (and prayer) part of the necessities of life? Hmmmm! His suggestion led me back to consider a covenant that will remember, and honor, who I am as well as help me to choose life each and every day. How to write that in terms of goals and objectives became a delicious task for the afternoon.
Now I simply need the Spirit to keep me on the track of remembering, choosing....living fully.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Under Construction
So, a few more days under my belt and I am feeling in the construction mode. I was so pleasantly surprised on Day 1 to find a bright sunny office waiting for me. It had been a Sunday School room, but the resurrection of this congregation over the past few years has given us more children than will fit comfortably in the room. What a wonderful place to find ourselves in as a church, but also for me! Now the walls are bright orange, the woodwork royal blue, and the window valance a bright conglomeration of children's hand prints; perfect for a Sunday School room, maybe not an office. But I have been given the green light to transform this into office space, and so my mind is turning over all the possibilities. Construct a suitable office I shall do.
I came in this morning to find the 25 foot ethernet cable I had requested yesterday already sitting on my desk. I cannot tell you the joy this simple find gave me. Today I was able to work on the laptop from the desk, not the top of the little side bookcase. And to have a request answered so quickly was such fun.
And so I began constructing my Learning/Working Covenant, the document that will guide my ministry here. The Pastor and I had discussed on Day 1 those places I wanted to grow, those places that feed me, and those places the congregation might benefit from my particular gifts. Not done yet, but taking shape under five areas of focus: Pastoral Care, Worship, Discipleship, Education, and Congregational Growth and Transformation.
And so I construct: the physical space around me, a ministry plan for the coming year, a work pattern for this particular congregation, and I think a renewed sense of purpose and call. God's work of renovation in me.
I came in this morning to find the 25 foot ethernet cable I had requested yesterday already sitting on my desk. I cannot tell you the joy this simple find gave me. Today I was able to work on the laptop from the desk, not the top of the little side bookcase. And to have a request answered so quickly was such fun.
And so I began constructing my Learning/Working Covenant, the document that will guide my ministry here. The Pastor and I had discussed on Day 1 those places I wanted to grow, those places that feed me, and those places the congregation might benefit from my particular gifts. Not done yet, but taking shape under five areas of focus: Pastoral Care, Worship, Discipleship, Education, and Congregational Growth and Transformation.
And so I construct: the physical space around me, a ministry plan for the coming year, a work pattern for this particular congregation, and I think a renewed sense of purpose and call. God's work of renovation in me.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Day 1: What a surprise!
So what do I make of a pastor who starts a meeting with scripture and theological reflection? Oh yes, THIS is why I am going into ministry. While I attended some meetings at my field ed site last week, today was my first official day 'working' there. And what a surprise, we started with today's Lectionary reading (!!) Psalm 146: I will make music to YHWH all the days of my life... do not put your trust in princes or a child of Adam, they have no power to save.
Thirty five minutes later and we have visited process theology, issues of peace and justice, the comfort of YHWH in all places, our ability as human beings to commit evil by simply saying 'no'....
Imagine the power of working in a church that actually takes scriptural reflection and faith sharing as an integral part of every day's tasks! I think YHWH has provided me with a wonderful first step on this new part of the journey. I am blessed indeed!
Thirty five minutes later and we have visited process theology, issues of peace and justice, the comfort of YHWH in all places, our ability as human beings to commit evil by simply saying 'no'....
Imagine the power of working in a church that actually takes scriptural reflection and faith sharing as an integral part of every day's tasks! I think YHWH has provided me with a wonderful first step on this new part of the journey. I am blessed indeed!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
