The title of this was supposed to be "How Do You Spell Hockey?" with the answer: M-I-N-N-E-S-O-T-A! Unfortunately, the curse not only abides, it appears to extend to all MN athletic events which I attend.
Dad and I went to the Gopher game last night and watched them get spanked by Michigan, in spite of several power plays to our advantage. We lost two players to injury in the first period, and it just wasn't Kangas' night in front of the net.
Ah well. . .at least I got to watch the Gophers play (which is impossible in PA, even on TV), and it was still an exciting game to watch, and I got to do my favorite thing several times throughout the night (singing the rouser with a stadium full of people!), regardless of the final score. So all in all, it was a good night.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
And What Do You Do?
Alright, here's the thing: I'm an introvert. An introvert who hates to fly. An introvert who hates to fly, who is not a morning person, who nevertheless ends up on crack of dawn flights to the Midwest when she's going on vacation.
This means I do not really want to talk to anybody on my flight. I pretty much want to read until we take off, then turn on my iPod as soon as electronic devices are allowed, close my eyes, and try to forget about the fact that I am sitting in a small metal tube that is hurtling several hundred miles an hour, many thousands of feet above the ground. It's nothing personal against anyone else who may be flying with me - I'm sure they're all lovely people. I just don't want to talk to them.
But here's the other thing: I'm very polite. Though I will not initiate a conversation with the person sitting next to me, I will respond when spoken to. Even if I'm spoken to while clearly reading a book. And I frequently get seated next to raging extroverts, who just can't help themselves, they have to talk.
Inevitably the conversation turns to why we are traveling, what we do for a living. And when they find out I'm a pastor, then they often spend the duration of the flight either asking me all about what it's like being a pastor (especially a woman pastor), or telling me all about their church (like the very sweet and well-intentioned woman who talked to me about the Salvation Army for two hours yesterday morning), and occasionally telling me what they think is wrong with the church.
Please don't get me wrong, these have all been very gracious and interesting people, and these are conversations that I would probably enjoy having were I tapping into my "professional E" on the ground.
But I'm an introvert, who hates flying, who is not a morning person, who is on vacation, who is too polite to wait for a lull in the conversation and put my headphones on so you can't keep talking to me.
So I think I just need to come up with a fake job to give as an answer to that inevitable "And what do you do?" question. Something weird enough that others are not likely to know much about it, yet not so weird that I can't say anything intelligible about it or that they'll be so intrigued that they'll want to take about my fake job for the whole flight.
I am honest to a fault, so I don't know if I could really pull it off. But I'm open to suggestions. . .
Happy Thanksgiving,
C.
This means I do not really want to talk to anybody on my flight. I pretty much want to read until we take off, then turn on my iPod as soon as electronic devices are allowed, close my eyes, and try to forget about the fact that I am sitting in a small metal tube that is hurtling several hundred miles an hour, many thousands of feet above the ground. It's nothing personal against anyone else who may be flying with me - I'm sure they're all lovely people. I just don't want to talk to them.
But here's the other thing: I'm very polite. Though I will not initiate a conversation with the person sitting next to me, I will respond when spoken to. Even if I'm spoken to while clearly reading a book. And I frequently get seated next to raging extroverts, who just can't help themselves, they have to talk.
Inevitably the conversation turns to why we are traveling, what we do for a living. And when they find out I'm a pastor, then they often spend the duration of the flight either asking me all about what it's like being a pastor (especially a woman pastor), or telling me all about their church (like the very sweet and well-intentioned woman who talked to me about the Salvation Army for two hours yesterday morning), and occasionally telling me what they think is wrong with the church.
Please don't get me wrong, these have all been very gracious and interesting people, and these are conversations that I would probably enjoy having were I tapping into my "professional E" on the ground.
But I'm an introvert, who hates flying, who is not a morning person, who is on vacation, who is too polite to wait for a lull in the conversation and put my headphones on so you can't keep talking to me.
So I think I just need to come up with a fake job to give as an answer to that inevitable "And what do you do?" question. Something weird enough that others are not likely to know much about it, yet not so weird that I can't say anything intelligible about it or that they'll be so intrigued that they'll want to take about my fake job for the whole flight.
I am honest to a fault, so I don't know if I could really pull it off. But I'm open to suggestions. . .
Happy Thanksgiving,
C.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Wade in the Water
Interesting things going on over at All My Children these days. Bianca (the youngest daughter of the show's diva, Erica Kane) is back in town, and she's engaged and has a new baby. That might not be so interesting in itself, except, you see, Bianca is gay.
Baby Gabrielle was scheduled to be "christened" this past week, and the first pastor scheduled to do the ceremony, who was clearly supposed to be a Catholic priest, refused to perform the baptism once he realized the baby was the child of a gay couple.
I realize such rejection is, sadly, more often the experience homosexuals have with the church than not, so it was good and accurate for it to be part of the story. Still, I found myself furious by what was happening on screen, and thought - were these real people - I would have tracked them down and offered to baptize the baby myself (Pine Valley can only be a couple hours from Lewisburg, at most!).
Turned out my services were not needed :) - by the end of the episode, La Kane had taken care of things and found a woman pastor with a sweet looking portable font who "christened" Gabrielle. I'm a little confused as to what tradition this pastor was supposed to represent - she wore black academic robes like a Methodist, but a banded clerical collar and a white stole like an Episcopalian, and the baptism itself was rather humanist - but what else can one expect from a soap?
In any case, I was curious to see what kind of chatter there was on the official AMC discussion board after all this, and it was very interesting - as may be expected, there were those who lauded abc for showing the discrimination gay people constantly face in the church, as well as those who defended the priest's decision and lambasted abc for picking on the Catholic church.
Even more interesting is how those latter discussions morphed into conversations about baptismal practices in general. One of the defenses of the priest was that, given that nobody in Pine Valley seems to be involved in a faith community on a regular basis, the priest was well within his rights to refuse the baptism (even though it was clear those weren't the grounds of his refusal). Several folks responded with stories of being denied baptism for their own children because they were not members of the church, and their analysis was simply that all the church wants is money, and if you're not willing to join and give it, too bad for you - no baptism.
Now, I can understand how these folks may have come to this conclusion. But let me give you the pastor's perspective on baptism.
And let me start by saying that I have yet to deny anybody a baptism, and I find it unlikely I ever will. I have baptized both children and adults, I have baptized people in families that are very active in my congregation, and I have baptized people whose immediate families are not active at all in the congregation (and who have never darkened the door of the church since).
Here's what baptism is not: eternal fire insurance. I know, lots of people, even highly churched people, treat it as such. And I suspect that's why a lot of people, even highly unchurched people, want to get their kids "done" (as some have called it), because they think baptism is some golden ticket into heaven.
That's not exactly how it works. Baptism, first and foremost, is a covenant. Primarily a covenant between God and the person being baptized. In the act of baptism God names and claims this person as God's own beloved child.
Now, does that mean that if you're not baptized, you're not a child of God? Absolutely not. But baptism is a very public declaration of this relationship with God - in front of witnesses, God makes this covenant with you and promises that you are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. In other words - no take backs. No matter what happens. And that's a good promise to be able to cling to, especially on those days and in those seasons when your life is a mess, when you feel like you're drowning in mistakes, when your heart is broken, when you're overwhelmed by the darkness, when all others have abandoned you - in all times and places, it's good to know you can trust that God is with you and for you, come what may.
I believe this a promise that God wants to make publicly to everyone, and this aspect of the covenant is why I can't see myself ever denying a baptism, no matter how shady the motivations of the parents or the person themselves. For I hold with the prophet Isaiah that the Word of God never returns to God empty, but always, ultimately, bears fruit; and I feel it is neither my right nor my responsibility, as a member of the clergy, to stand in the Word's way. If anything, my job is to cast the Word out into the world and then do my best to keep myself and others from bungling it up.
All of that being said - the covenant between God and the person being baptized is not the only covenant being made that day. The parents, the godparents, and the whole body of Christ are also making promises to the one being baptized - significant promises to help the baptized learn the old, old story of God's deep love for and engagement with the world, to help them discern their role in this ever-unfolding narrative, and to help them wrestle with the deep questions of faith that will inevitably pop up along the way. We make these promises because we believe you can't do any of this on your own - you need the help and support of a community, and part of these promises are concrete commitments to life together - to worship together, and study together, and talk together.
So when folks who are not already a part of the community, and who, after conversation, clearly have no interest in becoming part of the community, come to me and ask for a baptism, I do stop and wonder why it really even matters to them - I mean, why bother going through this ritual and making promises that you don't intend to keep? That's basically making a mockery of the whole process - which is, you know, kind of irritating to those of us who take these promises seriously and hold this ritual sacred.
But in spite of this rub, one's answer to the question "To baptize, or not to baptize" ultimately comes down to which covenants one feels are most important. I believe, for the sake of the baptized, it is most important to make God's covenant with them a matter of graspable, tangible public record, because God's promises never fail, even when all our human promises fade and whither like the grass. And, as I said, I trust the power and efficacy of God's Word to find its way and bear its fruit in spite of all our attempts to bungle it. So I'd rather err on the side of grace, and consequently have yet to refuse a baptism, and doubt that I ever will.
But I can also understand the frustration of fellow clergy who are tired of trampling on the human covenants being made that day, I can understand their desire to raise the bar and reasonably expect the people making these promises to put a modicum of effort into fulfilling them.
And to those who've encountered such clergy, who have perhaps even been denied a baptism as a result of your unwillingness to meet whatever expectations were laid out by this clergy and/or their congregation - before you get all hot and bothered and start tearing down the church for not asking "How high?" when you said "Jump!," can I ask you to consider this possibility: that it is not so much about them wanting your money, as it is about God wanting your life, and them taking seriously what God has said from the very beginning, that it is not good for you to live that life alone? I mean, I wasn't there, I don't know what shook down, and I know there are clergy and congregations out there who do want to grow their membership just to get more coins in the coffer. So, your take on things may be entirely right. I'm just asking you to consider another side of things, in the off-chance you were wrong.
Whoo - that's probably enough about baptism, at least for today. I trust certain faithful readers and fellow members in the priesthood of all believers will correct me if I've spewed forth any heresy. :) And I welcome any further thoughts or insights on the matter - leave a comment!
Peace,
C.
Baby Gabrielle was scheduled to be "christened" this past week, and the first pastor scheduled to do the ceremony, who was clearly supposed to be a Catholic priest, refused to perform the baptism once he realized the baby was the child of a gay couple.
I realize such rejection is, sadly, more often the experience homosexuals have with the church than not, so it was good and accurate for it to be part of the story. Still, I found myself furious by what was happening on screen, and thought - were these real people - I would have tracked them down and offered to baptize the baby myself (Pine Valley can only be a couple hours from Lewisburg, at most!).
Turned out my services were not needed :) - by the end of the episode, La Kane had taken care of things and found a woman pastor with a sweet looking portable font who "christened" Gabrielle. I'm a little confused as to what tradition this pastor was supposed to represent - she wore black academic robes like a Methodist, but a banded clerical collar and a white stole like an Episcopalian, and the baptism itself was rather humanist - but what else can one expect from a soap?
In any case, I was curious to see what kind of chatter there was on the official AMC discussion board after all this, and it was very interesting - as may be expected, there were those who lauded abc for showing the discrimination gay people constantly face in the church, as well as those who defended the priest's decision and lambasted abc for picking on the Catholic church.
Even more interesting is how those latter discussions morphed into conversations about baptismal practices in general. One of the defenses of the priest was that, given that nobody in Pine Valley seems to be involved in a faith community on a regular basis, the priest was well within his rights to refuse the baptism (even though it was clear those weren't the grounds of his refusal). Several folks responded with stories of being denied baptism for their own children because they were not members of the church, and their analysis was simply that all the church wants is money, and if you're not willing to join and give it, too bad for you - no baptism.
Now, I can understand how these folks may have come to this conclusion. But let me give you the pastor's perspective on baptism.
And let me start by saying that I have yet to deny anybody a baptism, and I find it unlikely I ever will. I have baptized both children and adults, I have baptized people in families that are very active in my congregation, and I have baptized people whose immediate families are not active at all in the congregation (and who have never darkened the door of the church since).
Here's what baptism is not: eternal fire insurance. I know, lots of people, even highly churched people, treat it as such. And I suspect that's why a lot of people, even highly unchurched people, want to get their kids "done" (as some have called it), because they think baptism is some golden ticket into heaven.
That's not exactly how it works. Baptism, first and foremost, is a covenant. Primarily a covenant between God and the person being baptized. In the act of baptism God names and claims this person as God's own beloved child.
Now, does that mean that if you're not baptized, you're not a child of God? Absolutely not. But baptism is a very public declaration of this relationship with God - in front of witnesses, God makes this covenant with you and promises that you are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. In other words - no take backs. No matter what happens. And that's a good promise to be able to cling to, especially on those days and in those seasons when your life is a mess, when you feel like you're drowning in mistakes, when your heart is broken, when you're overwhelmed by the darkness, when all others have abandoned you - in all times and places, it's good to know you can trust that God is with you and for you, come what may.
I believe this a promise that God wants to make publicly to everyone, and this aspect of the covenant is why I can't see myself ever denying a baptism, no matter how shady the motivations of the parents or the person themselves. For I hold with the prophet Isaiah that the Word of God never returns to God empty, but always, ultimately, bears fruit; and I feel it is neither my right nor my responsibility, as a member of the clergy, to stand in the Word's way. If anything, my job is to cast the Word out into the world and then do my best to keep myself and others from bungling it up.
All of that being said - the covenant between God and the person being baptized is not the only covenant being made that day. The parents, the godparents, and the whole body of Christ are also making promises to the one being baptized - significant promises to help the baptized learn the old, old story of God's deep love for and engagement with the world, to help them discern their role in this ever-unfolding narrative, and to help them wrestle with the deep questions of faith that will inevitably pop up along the way. We make these promises because we believe you can't do any of this on your own - you need the help and support of a community, and part of these promises are concrete commitments to life together - to worship together, and study together, and talk together.
So when folks who are not already a part of the community, and who, after conversation, clearly have no interest in becoming part of the community, come to me and ask for a baptism, I do stop and wonder why it really even matters to them - I mean, why bother going through this ritual and making promises that you don't intend to keep? That's basically making a mockery of the whole process - which is, you know, kind of irritating to those of us who take these promises seriously and hold this ritual sacred.
But in spite of this rub, one's answer to the question "To baptize, or not to baptize" ultimately comes down to which covenants one feels are most important. I believe, for the sake of the baptized, it is most important to make God's covenant with them a matter of graspable, tangible public record, because God's promises never fail, even when all our human promises fade and whither like the grass. And, as I said, I trust the power and efficacy of God's Word to find its way and bear its fruit in spite of all our attempts to bungle it. So I'd rather err on the side of grace, and consequently have yet to refuse a baptism, and doubt that I ever will.
But I can also understand the frustration of fellow clergy who are tired of trampling on the human covenants being made that day, I can understand their desire to raise the bar and reasonably expect the people making these promises to put a modicum of effort into fulfilling them.
And to those who've encountered such clergy, who have perhaps even been denied a baptism as a result of your unwillingness to meet whatever expectations were laid out by this clergy and/or their congregation - before you get all hot and bothered and start tearing down the church for not asking "How high?" when you said "Jump!," can I ask you to consider this possibility: that it is not so much about them wanting your money, as it is about God wanting your life, and them taking seriously what God has said from the very beginning, that it is not good for you to live that life alone? I mean, I wasn't there, I don't know what shook down, and I know there are clergy and congregations out there who do want to grow their membership just to get more coins in the coffer. So, your take on things may be entirely right. I'm just asking you to consider another side of things, in the off-chance you were wrong.
Whoo - that's probably enough about baptism, at least for today. I trust certain faithful readers and fellow members in the priesthood of all believers will correct me if I've spewed forth any heresy. :) And I welcome any further thoughts or insights on the matter - leave a comment!
Peace,
C.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Tradition!
In her Halloween post, Maria the Great commented on how Tim sorts candy with the boys after they've gone trick-or-treating, because he remembers doing that as a kid. That got me thinking about traditions and how they get started. . .
Tim's a few years older than me, so he may have a better sense of how this all began, but from what I remember, the great candy sort began as a way for our fathers to inspect our candy. We were young trick-or-treaters during the candy scares of the early 80s, when some people were doing all sorts of weird junk to the candy they gave out on Halloween. Anything that looked suspect was pulled out of the pile without question, along with anything else they didn't want us to have (I think hard candy and suckers were routinely removed until we were old enough for them to trust we wouldn't accidentally choke on them). As we got older and our fathers' inspection was less needful, we'd still dump our candy out all over Uncle Ron's living room, sort it, then swap each other to either gain more of our favorites or get rid of stuff we really didn't like. So, a tradition that began out of practical necessity and gradually morphed into family habit is still going strong 25 years later, as a new generation of Ciccones are learning to sort their candy when they get home from trick-or-treating, because that's what my cousins and I always did when we were kids.
Naturally, I see many parallels here to the life of the church. A noticable parallel around here has to do with communion practices - despite a synod-wide push several years ago to have every congregation in the synod move to weekly communion, there are still many congregations who only celebrate communion four times a year plus high holy days. This, too, began as a practical necessity - in the days of the circuit-riders, a congregation was probably only visited by an authorized presiding pastor 4-6 times a year. But it gradually became "family habit" so even after a congregation had a regularly established and called pastor present every week, they continued their very irregular or infrequent celebration of communion because "that's what we have always done."
Now don't get me wrong here - I think traditions are good. They help us remember and tell and live our stories, and they often give us solid ground to stand on in a topsy-turvy world. And trust me, I can get as grumpy as the best of them when my traditions are messed with.
But, traditions can also be, or become, stifling. When we forget how the tradition started, or why we perpetuate it, when we allow tradition to become an end or a god in itself and refuse to entertain the possibility of any new things we're being called to do. . .then I think maybe tradition is not so good. Or healthy. Or helpful.
At least, that's what my friend Tevye found out (the hard way). . .
Tim's a few years older than me, so he may have a better sense of how this all began, but from what I remember, the great candy sort began as a way for our fathers to inspect our candy. We were young trick-or-treaters during the candy scares of the early 80s, when some people were doing all sorts of weird junk to the candy they gave out on Halloween. Anything that looked suspect was pulled out of the pile without question, along with anything else they didn't want us to have (I think hard candy and suckers were routinely removed until we were old enough for them to trust we wouldn't accidentally choke on them). As we got older and our fathers' inspection was less needful, we'd still dump our candy out all over Uncle Ron's living room, sort it, then swap each other to either gain more of our favorites or get rid of stuff we really didn't like. So, a tradition that began out of practical necessity and gradually morphed into family habit is still going strong 25 years later, as a new generation of Ciccones are learning to sort their candy when they get home from trick-or-treating, because that's what my cousins and I always did when we were kids.
Naturally, I see many parallels here to the life of the church. A noticable parallel around here has to do with communion practices - despite a synod-wide push several years ago to have every congregation in the synod move to weekly communion, there are still many congregations who only celebrate communion four times a year plus high holy days. This, too, began as a practical necessity - in the days of the circuit-riders, a congregation was probably only visited by an authorized presiding pastor 4-6 times a year. But it gradually became "family habit" so even after a congregation had a regularly established and called pastor present every week, they continued their very irregular or infrequent celebration of communion because "that's what we have always done."
Now don't get me wrong here - I think traditions are good. They help us remember and tell and live our stories, and they often give us solid ground to stand on in a topsy-turvy world. And trust me, I can get as grumpy as the best of them when my traditions are messed with.
But, traditions can also be, or become, stifling. When we forget how the tradition started, or why we perpetuate it, when we allow tradition to become an end or a god in itself and refuse to entertain the possibility of any new things we're being called to do. . .then I think maybe tradition is not so good. Or healthy. Or helpful.
At least, that's what my friend Tevye found out (the hard way). . .
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Da Cats
I've been cat-sitting all week, and of course, I love them each in their own unique way (even Lucy, for whom I've often offered to purchase a one-way ticket to California), and try to shower them with equal amounts of attention when I'm taking care of them. But I have to admit, I am a little partial to Jake - he's a total goofball and a glutton for attention, he will greet me at the door and follow me all through the house, throwing himself in front of my feet, until I rub his belly.
This is his favorite thing when he plays - to have a towel thrown over him. I think he thinks he's hiding, as in, he thinks no one can see him, even if he's in the middle of the floor. Like I said, a total, adorable goof.
Melvin is the gentle giant. Hard to believe now, but when he was rescued from the street, he fit in the palm of my hand and he was so emaciated you could see his every rib, poor little guy. I used to call him the grey ghost because there were some times when I'd watch them, I'd go almost all week without seeing head nor tail of him. But in the past year he's become more social, and this time he actually wanted to come cuddle with me on the couch.
And Lucy, well. . .we love Lucy. It's impossible to get a picture of her without her eyes glowing red, which confirms my suspicions that her full given name should be Lucifer :). But in all seriousness, she is a living example of good Lutheran theology - that in daily life we all need the right balance between structure and freedom (aka law and gospel), and with enough love and patience, even the most irascible, issue-laden, and seemingly irredeemable can be transformed. This is her favorite spot, from whence she can survey her realm in peace and evade sneak attacks by the boys.
Happy Weekend,
C.
This is his favorite thing when he plays - to have a towel thrown over him. I think he thinks he's hiding, as in, he thinks no one can see him, even if he's in the middle of the floor. Like I said, a total, adorable goof.
Melvin is the gentle giant. Hard to believe now, but when he was rescued from the street, he fit in the palm of my hand and he was so emaciated you could see his every rib, poor little guy. I used to call him the grey ghost because there were some times when I'd watch them, I'd go almost all week without seeing head nor tail of him. But in the past year he's become more social, and this time he actually wanted to come cuddle with me on the couch.
And Lucy, well. . .we love Lucy. It's impossible to get a picture of her without her eyes glowing red, which confirms my suspicions that her full given name should be Lucifer :). But in all seriousness, she is a living example of good Lutheran theology - that in daily life we all need the right balance between structure and freedom (aka law and gospel), and with enough love and patience, even the most irascible, issue-laden, and seemingly irredeemable can be transformed. This is her favorite spot, from whence she can survey her realm in peace and evade sneak attacks by the boys.
Happy Weekend,
C.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Wonders Never Cease
It was gorgeously warm and sunny in central PA this past weekend, which made it all the more surreal to read the facebook postings of my Midwestern family and friends who kept talking about snow. Well, that system finally made its way east, and we actually had a little bit of snow falling here today, which totally surprised me - I don't think of central PA as capable of getting snow this early. Shows what I know.
In other surprises, a seed of ministry blossomed in a beautiful and unexpected way today. We've been talking a lot this fall about what our mission is, how we can reach out beyond our walls and be a positive and serving presence in our community. Our council president gave a beautiful temple talk yesterday on similar themes and laid out a little bit of a challenge to the entire congregation to get involved and help us discern this path forward together. And today a parishioner who is normally kind of quiet called me up, all excited, to propose a short-term ministry project that is easily accomplishable, meets an immediate and identified need in the community, and gives us a chance to establish good rapport with a neighbor. And this parishioner is willing to lead and coordinate the whole project. So, I just affirmed it was a brilliant idea and gave them permission to run with it.
This is exactly the kind of thing I was hoping would come out of these discussions. And when so much of ministry is casting and tending seeds that you're never sure are going to come to fruition, it feels really good to see signs that one of them is starting to take root.
In other surprises, a seed of ministry blossomed in a beautiful and unexpected way today. We've been talking a lot this fall about what our mission is, how we can reach out beyond our walls and be a positive and serving presence in our community. Our council president gave a beautiful temple talk yesterday on similar themes and laid out a little bit of a challenge to the entire congregation to get involved and help us discern this path forward together. And today a parishioner who is normally kind of quiet called me up, all excited, to propose a short-term ministry project that is easily accomplishable, meets an immediate and identified need in the community, and gives us a chance to establish good rapport with a neighbor. And this parishioner is willing to lead and coordinate the whole project. So, I just affirmed it was a brilliant idea and gave them permission to run with it.
This is exactly the kind of thing I was hoping would come out of these discussions. And when so much of ministry is casting and tending seeds that you're never sure are going to come to fruition, it feels really good to see signs that one of them is starting to take root.
Monday, November 3, 2008
To Quote the Back of My Old Wellstone Shirt. . .
Mumble.
Grumble.
Complain.
Wallow.
Hope.
Despair.
Worry.
VOTE.
Grumble.
Complain.
Wallow.
Hope.
Despair.
Worry.
VOTE.
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