My plan for Hope 2010 Stewardship Campaign? I am going to start selling bobble heads. Our church needs to really have a good year in 2011 and I have decided that this might be the most realistic way; to create and sell bobble heads of all of the staff members at Hope. The goal could be that congregants would collect them all and worse case scenario even if a congregant weren't super excited about the job one of us was doing they could purchase one and snap its head as they passed by it on their way to do the dishes or put in another load of laundry. But even in this quite possible worse case scenario, the church would still profit from its purchase and have more funding to meet the expectations of its congregants, while simultaneously creating an alternative outlet for disgruntled church members to release frustration. Yes, Hope staff bobble heads seem to be a win-win idea.
I am not sure if the Stewardship Committee will appreciate my creativity but as we enter our time of Stewardship money is definitely on my mind. I feel the pressure to generate income at Hope more than any other church I have served before, although I find myself serving in a very affluent area. It has a lot to do with the reality out of which my position was created. See, at this appointment I have found myself in the unique position of filling a job that was not budgeted for; filling the shoes of a position created out of the hope that change would result in revenue...and I am that change. No pressure for a first appointment, right?
It is a precarious position to sit in church committee meetings during which cuts are made and budgets fall short and the cause is your salary. It's the sort of discussion that could easily result in my volunteering to learn how to bake bread and spend my Saturday mornings in front of King Soopers doing my own little fundraiser. It feels like a more realistic option than bringing in more people, more pledges in the time frame of next eight weeks to make up for a shrinking income and a significantly rising budget.
Perhaps it is even more awkward because growing up money was never something we were ever supposed to talk about. It was a private matter. But Hope's financial situation is public knowledge. And although they are running short, it is definitely nothing to be ashamed of. See, they made a decision to do what they believed would benefit there church knowing that if it was the right thing, God would provide. It takes a faithful church to move forward when the numbers say otherwise and I am proud to be serving such a church. If the way you spend your money tells others about your priorities, then Hope's financial situation is evidence that they believe in the power of the Holy Spirit.
For me, my issue is letting go of this self-imposed responsibility to do God's job. (A re-occurring theme for my life). It requires holding fast to the vision God has given me for my ministry even while remaining incredibly aware that all the ministry I do is against this backdrop of the necessity to bring in the income for my salary...and still my only ideas are bobble heads and bake sales.
I was brought here to bring new people to Hope but the reality is that bringing in new people costs money. Money for marketing, for resources, for staff. And it takes time. Lots of time spent on meeting the needs of 'outsiders' with the risk of what might be perceived to be less attention paid to the needs of the people that are already sitting in the pews. It's a great way to make the people who have the power to pay your salary incredibly uncomfortable and potentially very angry.
Therefore, let's just sum this all up by admitting that there is an enormous tension around the pastor who has been called in to bring in new people without the money budgeted to pay for their salary. A sort of schizophrenic energy where the pull of gravity is in a million different directions. The learning curve is to begin to float in the presence of God. To believe in the power of the Holy Spirit to do crazy things in communities that take risks...even if after doing so they wish they could retract.
And while bobble heads and bake sales might sound like desperate measures it is much less for my sake and my family's that I feel so invested in this year's Stewardship Campaign at Hope. It is really a matter of faith. Of supporting this idea that God is still active in the world and is physically present in the lives of people who take steps toward a vision that can only materialize with God's activity being obviously present. I want the people of Hope to be able to taste and feel and hear God in the life of their community because they have taken a risk that in the eyes of some makes no sense and I believe those are the times when God just seems to happen to show up.
My prayer for Hope during this season of Stewardship is that those faithful leaders who once believed in the power of one person to change the course of their congregation's future could find inspiration in the truth that they, and only they, hold the power to make this vision true. The irony in all of it seems to be that if the people of Hope can pull together to have a Stewardship Campaign which incorporates the costs of an Associate Pastor and many of their growing ministries (without selling bobble heads and me having a "Tea Party" style bake sale) they will have gained the knowledge that it was never another person that they needed to 'succeed' but the courage to follow through with their belief in the power of individual gifts committed within the context of a community to perform miracles.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Home Work
I have a new therapist. I didn't do any research about who she was. I just picked her name out of a list from my insurance company and hoped my finger had landed on the right spot before dialing the number to make an appointment.
It was all in good faith that I showed up last Thursday in her small office.
I was a little nervous when the intake form asked what church I went to and who my pastor was and I almost bolted for the door after she looked at my form and asked if I did "Women's Ministries" and then told me she was a graduate of Denver Seminary.
By the time I left I was glad I hung around. Although trying to explain United Methodist Polity to an 'outsider' made me even more convinced I was a member of a cult, that was definitely the only thing I had to put effort into explaining. My time with Carol was sort of like an hour with a psychic who knew how to listen. She made me feel a little less crazy and a little more validated. A lot more hopeful and a lot less alone.
She also gave me homework. She asked me to write down how I spent my time. What I did during the day, work and otherwise. I suppose it is to serve as proof that the way my life is now is unmanagable. That if I keep going at the pace I am going my life will control me, I will not control my life. And like any good student, I have totally procrastinated writing anything down. Waiting for a good day to start with. Maybe a day off? Or the day I remember to eat three meals and go to the gym. Or the day I say no to taking on one more project or one more task.
I am going to take a wild guess that Carol will not count "getting a coffee at Starbucks" as self-care. She might not buy my argument that phone calls and emails done at home don't really count as work time. I am guessing she won't buy any of the sick ways I negogiate how I spend my time just to tell myself I can keep up this pace I have set for myself. The pace that is set on the momentary high of the next accomplishment, the hope of the next praise. I like to accomplish things. I love to be praised.
So already, in not doing what my therapist has told me, I have had some important insights. Well, maybe I already knew all of this about myself but it was only my first session. And she is from Denver Seminary, afterall. (That is a little joke from an Iliff Grad). The truth is that I made the appointment because I know I have this huge gap between my life now and who I am and the life I would like and the person I hope to be and that what is holding me there is a deep fear that I am not good enough. But what motivated me to take the chance on the possibiltiy of person I have never met to help me was the reality that if I don't start to change, to REALLY change and not just know lots of crappy things about the way I am living my life, I might never model for my daughter a woman who is secure and confident in who she is not for what she does but just because she deserves to be loved and respected.
I've been here for an embarrasingly long time; the place where I see who I am and what I am doing. I even get why I am doing it. But I keep doing the same things over and over that keep me in the place I don't want to be. Living without grace. What an empty place to be. A land of no forgiveness. No room for mistakes. No time for living. But I can feel the call (God is using my middle name at this point) and I am ready to change. Even if that means taking some chances and learning some new lessons, falling on my face or bruising my knee. I think we all know I am far from perfect....there isn't really a facade to keep up. I just want to stop. And listen. And feel. Something that is so embarrassing to admit I have never felt as a pastor; the grace of the God and the salvation of my soul.
It was all in good faith that I showed up last Thursday in her small office.
I was a little nervous when the intake form asked what church I went to and who my pastor was and I almost bolted for the door after she looked at my form and asked if I did "Women's Ministries" and then told me she was a graduate of Denver Seminary.
By the time I left I was glad I hung around. Although trying to explain United Methodist Polity to an 'outsider' made me even more convinced I was a member of a cult, that was definitely the only thing I had to put effort into explaining. My time with Carol was sort of like an hour with a psychic who knew how to listen. She made me feel a little less crazy and a little more validated. A lot more hopeful and a lot less alone.
She also gave me homework. She asked me to write down how I spent my time. What I did during the day, work and otherwise. I suppose it is to serve as proof that the way my life is now is unmanagable. That if I keep going at the pace I am going my life will control me, I will not control my life. And like any good student, I have totally procrastinated writing anything down. Waiting for a good day to start with. Maybe a day off? Or the day I remember to eat three meals and go to the gym. Or the day I say no to taking on one more project or one more task.
I am going to take a wild guess that Carol will not count "getting a coffee at Starbucks" as self-care. She might not buy my argument that phone calls and emails done at home don't really count as work time. I am guessing she won't buy any of the sick ways I negogiate how I spend my time just to tell myself I can keep up this pace I have set for myself. The pace that is set on the momentary high of the next accomplishment, the hope of the next praise. I like to accomplish things. I love to be praised.
So already, in not doing what my therapist has told me, I have had some important insights. Well, maybe I already knew all of this about myself but it was only my first session. And she is from Denver Seminary, afterall. (That is a little joke from an Iliff Grad). The truth is that I made the appointment because I know I have this huge gap between my life now and who I am and the life I would like and the person I hope to be and that what is holding me there is a deep fear that I am not good enough. But what motivated me to take the chance on the possibiltiy of person I have never met to help me was the reality that if I don't start to change, to REALLY change and not just know lots of crappy things about the way I am living my life, I might never model for my daughter a woman who is secure and confident in who she is not for what she does but just because she deserves to be loved and respected.
I've been here for an embarrasingly long time; the place where I see who I am and what I am doing. I even get why I am doing it. But I keep doing the same things over and over that keep me in the place I don't want to be. Living without grace. What an empty place to be. A land of no forgiveness. No room for mistakes. No time for living. But I can feel the call (God is using my middle name at this point) and I am ready to change. Even if that means taking some chances and learning some new lessons, falling on my face or bruising my knee. I think we all know I am far from perfect....there isn't really a facade to keep up. I just want to stop. And listen. And feel. Something that is so embarrassing to admit I have never felt as a pastor; the grace of the God and the salvation of my soul.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
God Gives You Carrots...
I don't necessarily know what I want to write about. I should be sleeping. But I want to write. To be here with you. My reader. I have ten official followers. Two more and I believe I qualify as a prophet, so that is motivation right there.
Its been a trying week. On top of many trying weeks that have come before. No specifics. No complaints. Just observations. Reflections for words to come and support for things I may have written. That I have often expected most things to be much easier than I should have and I am beginning to come to a place of understanding that very little in life is easy. But most of all of it is worthwhile.
Have you ever had feelings that seemed so detached from the reality that existed around you (and you were not taking prescription medications) that you knew there wasn't any other explanation than the presence of God in your heart? Something like: Peace in Chaos? Hope in Despair? Happiness in Drudgery?
I think these experiences, though fewer than I would like, are the reasons why I have faith in a world that leaves so many behind. These rare instances that I wish I could bottle up and give out to others or stock up on the shelves of my pantry for times when all perspective is lost and things seem, well, too real. Its hard to explain. Almost impossible to feel like I am making any sense when I am talking about it but~
It's sort of like standing up on a cliff...or a mountain top. Alone. Looking down and seeing the whole big picture. Feeling small yet mysteriously important to all the intricacies that fill the valleys below.
Perhaps 'mountain top' is misleading because I don't feel great, or high, or like everything is fantastic. I don't want to run through the streets celebrating or rejoicing. I am not disconnected from the struggles around me, my own shortcomings or the moving obstacles waiting before me. Or even those so distant from my own life. But I do feel like I have surrendered...like floating face up in a lake on a warm Fall day. And I am just here. Finally. Just here. Until this too passes.
And yesterday as I was pondering how to explain the weird ways of these past few days the dumbest thought came to my head. I thought "It's like sometimes God gives you carrots so you can see a little better the work She is doing through you." I know its sort of a silly thing to think but it just popped in my mind and its as good as it gets when describing something of which I wish I could manufacture or replicate but can't even make enough sense of to accurately articulate: the tears that come to know that in some moments peace comes where there is no peace, love pours in where hatred resides, meaning rises up when chaos rules, and God comes alive in your heart to break you down only to build you back up in a single breath. And you're thankful. Just thankful. For nothing other than the passing touch of a Living God that calls to life your name and keeps you aware that in this great valley you have a view given to you to share with the world.
Its been a trying week. On top of many trying weeks that have come before. No specifics. No complaints. Just observations. Reflections for words to come and support for things I may have written. That I have often expected most things to be much easier than I should have and I am beginning to come to a place of understanding that very little in life is easy. But most of all of it is worthwhile.
Have you ever had feelings that seemed so detached from the reality that existed around you (and you were not taking prescription medications) that you knew there wasn't any other explanation than the presence of God in your heart? Something like: Peace in Chaos? Hope in Despair? Happiness in Drudgery?
I think these experiences, though fewer than I would like, are the reasons why I have faith in a world that leaves so many behind. These rare instances that I wish I could bottle up and give out to others or stock up on the shelves of my pantry for times when all perspective is lost and things seem, well, too real. Its hard to explain. Almost impossible to feel like I am making any sense when I am talking about it but~
It's sort of like standing up on a cliff...or a mountain top. Alone. Looking down and seeing the whole big picture. Feeling small yet mysteriously important to all the intricacies that fill the valleys below.
Perhaps 'mountain top' is misleading because I don't feel great, or high, or like everything is fantastic. I don't want to run through the streets celebrating or rejoicing. I am not disconnected from the struggles around me, my own shortcomings or the moving obstacles waiting before me. Or even those so distant from my own life. But I do feel like I have surrendered...like floating face up in a lake on a warm Fall day. And I am just here. Finally. Just here. Until this too passes.
And yesterday as I was pondering how to explain the weird ways of these past few days the dumbest thought came to my head. I thought "It's like sometimes God gives you carrots so you can see a little better the work She is doing through you." I know its sort of a silly thing to think but it just popped in my mind and its as good as it gets when describing something of which I wish I could manufacture or replicate but can't even make enough sense of to accurately articulate: the tears that come to know that in some moments peace comes where there is no peace, love pours in where hatred resides, meaning rises up when chaos rules, and God comes alive in your heart to break you down only to build you back up in a single breath. And you're thankful. Just thankful. For nothing other than the passing touch of a Living God that calls to life your name and keeps you aware that in this great valley you have a view given to you to share with the world.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
A Closer Walk With Thee
I have an aversion to quitting. It might be a genetic trait. My favorite story to tell about my sister as a child is her having to have forced breaks in her soccer league because she had asthma and would run until her lips turned blue and she passed out on the field.
I am sure I have quit many things throughout my life, particularly since I have always had a fondness for being the best (which I realize now is likely to never happen). Yet, for whatever reason the most memorable thing I ever quit was Track in seventh grade. I don't even know why I quit but I just remember having to negotiate with my parents at the dinner table to quit something I had hardly even begun. It probably had something to do with thinking that track looked cool and believing that I was a fast runner only to discover after the first meeting that it was really not much fun and I was really not that fast. So I quit.
This past week at a clergy gathering one of the theories we discussed was that it isn't the decisions that we make that are right or wrong but what we do after the decisions are made that is right and wrong. So here is my example. Think of yourself driving a car. Imagine yourself making a right turn with a blindfold on going eighty miles an hour. Now imagine yourself taking a left turn with your eyes open going the slowly. See, it doesn't matter if you go right or left. What matters is how you drive. Sort of like the decisions we make. In this model, our decisions matter less than how we live our lives.
I guess I can see truth in this model because in many ways decisions can be 'undone'. We have the ability to change our minds. To quit what we are doing and to go in a new direction.
So, I have been thinking about 'quitting' since the moment this theory of decisions made itself home in my head. Reflecting on a general pattern I have of always obsessing over each decisions as if they can never be undone, as if when I begin a new direction I can never go back...as if there is no grace in this life.
And so I found myself stuck in this place between understanding when we are supposed to keep fixing our broken down car in the sweltering heat and when we are supposed to leave the broken down car behind and fuel up a new car so we can keep heading down the road. (Beware of the girl who knows nothing about cars using them as metaphors for life). How about this...I was trying to figure out when/if we should ever quit.
It wasn't until our closing worship service, listening to a fellow clergy person reading a Scripture, that a new way of seeing quitting came to me. "Do not quit" she read. The words echoed in my mind and I realized that my perception of quitting had always been a negative thing because it had never been understood in the context of God's grace. That for me, the words 'don't quit' had always essential meant, 'don't fail because you will never be forgiven.'
I don't know why when my friend said 'don't quit' my whole perception changed but it did because all of a sudden a feeling of great freedom was introduced to my life (and a whole lot of fear but that's for another post). It was seeing that God doesn't want me to quit on myself, on the person I am to become, and that meant fully accepting Her grace...and quitting.
I had never thought of quitting as NOT giving up. That to not quit was to stop searching, stop living, stop growing. To accept life as if where we stood right now was where we should always be and we just better buck up and keep taking the hits; that is quitting. What in the world would this say about the image we have of God? That we are Called to perpetuate an unhealthy pattern, to limit ourselves, to squelch our potential in the name of loyalty, or fear, or despair...
It is true that I hate the idea of quitting anything because I don't want to be perceived as a failure but I believe I could get over that. What is harder to overcome is the fear that rises up when I think about quitting, when I think about taking a risk, when I think about taking one step away from this solid ground into God's hand, towards a vision, an idea of who I could be, if I just could quit. I never thought of quitting as requiring faith. I only saw faith as necessary to not quit.
And while clairty in one place leads to confusion all around, as I sit and pray today, I hear a constant whisper, "keep going, keep searching, keep looking, don't give up...Other's might think you are quitting on them, but I know you are not giving up on Me." Amen.
I am sure I have quit many things throughout my life, particularly since I have always had a fondness for being the best (which I realize now is likely to never happen). Yet, for whatever reason the most memorable thing I ever quit was Track in seventh grade. I don't even know why I quit but I just remember having to negotiate with my parents at the dinner table to quit something I had hardly even begun. It probably had something to do with thinking that track looked cool and believing that I was a fast runner only to discover after the first meeting that it was really not much fun and I was really not that fast. So I quit.
This past week at a clergy gathering one of the theories we discussed was that it isn't the decisions that we make that are right or wrong but what we do after the decisions are made that is right and wrong. So here is my example. Think of yourself driving a car. Imagine yourself making a right turn with a blindfold on going eighty miles an hour. Now imagine yourself taking a left turn with your eyes open going the slowly. See, it doesn't matter if you go right or left. What matters is how you drive. Sort of like the decisions we make. In this model, our decisions matter less than how we live our lives.
I guess I can see truth in this model because in many ways decisions can be 'undone'. We have the ability to change our minds. To quit what we are doing and to go in a new direction.
So, I have been thinking about 'quitting' since the moment this theory of decisions made itself home in my head. Reflecting on a general pattern I have of always obsessing over each decisions as if they can never be undone, as if when I begin a new direction I can never go back...as if there is no grace in this life.
And so I found myself stuck in this place between understanding when we are supposed to keep fixing our broken down car in the sweltering heat and when we are supposed to leave the broken down car behind and fuel up a new car so we can keep heading down the road. (Beware of the girl who knows nothing about cars using them as metaphors for life). How about this...I was trying to figure out when/if we should ever quit.
It wasn't until our closing worship service, listening to a fellow clergy person reading a Scripture, that a new way of seeing quitting came to me. "Do not quit" she read. The words echoed in my mind and I realized that my perception of quitting had always been a negative thing because it had never been understood in the context of God's grace. That for me, the words 'don't quit' had always essential meant, 'don't fail because you will never be forgiven.'
I don't know why when my friend said 'don't quit' my whole perception changed but it did because all of a sudden a feeling of great freedom was introduced to my life (and a whole lot of fear but that's for another post). It was seeing that God doesn't want me to quit on myself, on the person I am to become, and that meant fully accepting Her grace...and quitting.
I had never thought of quitting as NOT giving up. That to not quit was to stop searching, stop living, stop growing. To accept life as if where we stood right now was where we should always be and we just better buck up and keep taking the hits; that is quitting. What in the world would this say about the image we have of God? That we are Called to perpetuate an unhealthy pattern, to limit ourselves, to squelch our potential in the name of loyalty, or fear, or despair...
It is true that I hate the idea of quitting anything because I don't want to be perceived as a failure but I believe I could get over that. What is harder to overcome is the fear that rises up when I think about quitting, when I think about taking a risk, when I think about taking one step away from this solid ground into God's hand, towards a vision, an idea of who I could be, if I just could quit. I never thought of quitting as requiring faith. I only saw faith as necessary to not quit.
And while clairty in one place leads to confusion all around, as I sit and pray today, I hear a constant whisper, "keep going, keep searching, keep looking, don't give up...Other's might think you are quitting on them, but I know you are not giving up on Me." Amen.
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