Healthy Leaders R Us

In an attempt to lower health insurance premiums and health care expenditures, and to try to deal with the fact that a lot of ministers just aren't very healthy folk, the ELCA has been on a campaign to make us all "Healthy Leaders" for several years now. The amusing part about this is that nearly every pastors meeting one goes to has donuts or coffee cake or some other such unhealthy goodies on which to gnosh. Even at seminary, which in theory should be setting the pace for this initiative, my friend Mike noted the irony of coming out of a "Healthy Leaders" meeting to a plate full of cookies.

In any case, the latest, greatest part of this campaign is again one of those things that is good in theory. It started a year ago, when they raised our deductables by a few hundred dollars, but also gave us the opportunity to earn "free" money (really, more like credits) to offset that increase. We earn the free money by taking a health risk assessment online (100 points, first 100 bucks) and thereafter logging into the designated website (10 pts/day) and completing various "programs" available therein (usually you get 50-100 pts per program; once you earn another 300 pts, you get another $300 credited to your offset).

Like I say, it's good in theory - providing incentive for us to be proactive about our health and find out important info like our cholestoral and blood sugar levels, etc, and to take on more preventative care like working on diet/nutrition and exercise.

But here's the thing: if you're already trying to lead a healthy lifestyle, there's not a lot for you to do. Last year I signed up for the stress program, which I knew I needed to work on, and which the assessment confirmed as one of my "risk factors." The program proved to be mostly unhelpful, because it was written for people in a regular 9-5 corporate kind of job, it was not tailored at all to the unique stressors that pastors deal with on a regular basis.

I also signed up for the exercise program, which was intended to help people get into an exercise regimen - I already was, so this was also not very helpful.

For a while, I debated taking up smoking, just so I could get the points from the program for quitting. But I drew the line at getting pregnant just to get the points for the healthy pregnancy program.

That was it, those were the only options other than simply logging in for my 10 points a day.

And those remain the only options again this year. Only for some reason, the website didn't reset the stress and exercise programs like it did the health risk assesment, so as far as the website is concerned, I've already completed those programs, I can't do them again for the points.

Which means the only way to earn my offset is to log in for my 10 points a day. Which is fine, except that I never just log in to the site quick, once I sit down at the computer, I end up checking email, getting on facebook, blogging, basically, dinking around on the internet for at least an hour, if not longer.

So essentially, in my case, this tool that's supposed to help me become a "healthy leader" is actually having the opposite effect, drawing me into a sedentary activity and stressing me out because the time I waste on the internet could have been better spent on a walk or reading a book or finishing work that needs to be done.

Viva la irony,
C.

The Noive

Unbelievable. The doorbell rang this afternoon - just your friendly neighborhood Latter-Day Saints making their rounds.

I answered the door in a cleric. Not typical for me on a Thursday midday, but I'd just come home from a visit with someone who is mentally a little checked-out right now (thought the cleric might help their recognition), and I have a graveside service this evening, so I figured there's no point changing clothes for just a couple hours.

So I answer the door in a cleric, and the guy looks at the white tab on my throat, hesitates for a moment, then starts in on his spiel.

I politely interjected, "I'm a Lutheran pastor, thank you, but I'm not interested.," foolishly thinking he might take the hint that ordination indicates a pretty major commitment to one's faith system.

But no, this did not deter him, he kept on talking!

So I more firmly interjected "I'm a Lutheran pastor. Thank you, but no thank you." And he still didn't look like he was going to stop, so then I just shut the door.

I hate being rude like that, but I also hang up on obnoxious telemarketers who won't take no for an answer.

Now, I know how hard and scary it can be to go door-to-door for anything, selling candy bars, working on a campaign, etc. Adding faith into the mix just makes you all the more vulnerable. So I give the Mormons props for their bravery and for their commitment to their beliefs and their desire to share their understanding of the good news with others.

But when someone politely declines your invitation, they do not secretly mean "Please, tell me more until you convince me you are right." Persistence in this instance is not a virtue but a violation of others' boundaries. No means no. Your response is then "Thank you for your time. Have a nice afternoon." Capisce?

"This is NOT Rocket Science!"

SVC is fresh off of a wonderful weekend spent performing Bach's Mass in B Minor. Tonight we were already back in the trenches, learning new music for our upcoming Pops concert (first weekend in May).

The music for Pops is generally lighter, easier fare than anything else we sing all year, but is especially light in contrast to what we just finished learning and performing (I think I can honestly say the B Minor Mass is hardest thing I've ever sung. Period.).

Yet somehow tonight we were struggling a bit, especially on an arrangement of "The Shadow of Your Smile" that was set to a Bossa Nova kind of beat. About halfway through our fumbling initial read, Bill (our conductor) shouted out, "This is not rocket science, folks!" Then 10 seconds later, "This is not Bach!"

I was tempted to shout back, "No, it's even worse for white people - it's rhythm!"

I didn't give in to the urge.

But seriously, it always humors me that this is the least technically challenging music that we sing, yet it's sometimes what we struggle the most to learn, because as a group, we can't seem to master the backbeat or swing the rhythm. A few years ago the overarching theme for Pops was "The 60s" and half the concert was Beatles hits - the Beatles being THE popular music when the vast majority of Chorale members were young people - and yet some of our renditions were still painfully stilted.

I guess you can lead us honkies to rock and roll charts but you can't make us swing.

Fine Arts in the Valley

Friday night I attended the High School's rendition of Thoroughly Modern Millie, which was awesome. I was excited to begin with, because I'd never seen Millie though I'd heard good things about it, so I was pumped to finally see a production in person. My joy was completed by the quality of the show. The leads were each perfectly suited to their part, and most of them were seniors, so it was fun to see them really enjoying this last turn on their high school stage, and fun to see how much they've all grown in their abilities since their freshman days in the chorus. "Millie" was the daughter of one of my ministerium colleagues, and she has just an incredible voice that I'm sure will take her places. The guy playing "Trevor Graydon" was cracking me up, his voice and comedic timing kept reminding me of Christopher Sieber (which is kind of funny since Chris was a replacement Trevor Graydon on Broadway)!

In other happenings, the next SVC concerts are this weekend. We're performing Bach's Mass in B Minor, the learning of which has been the bane of my existence lo these past two months. Tonight was our first rehearsal in the performance space, and everybody's hard work is finally paying off - it actually, miraculously, came together. Kind of makes me wish we had another week of rehearsal, just so we could have another week of it being fun (as opposed to frustrating) to sing. But all we have is Friday's dress rehearsal with the orchestra and soloists (I also always wish we had two rehearsals with the orchestra, but c'est la vie), then the concerts themselves on Saturday and Sunday. 3 pm at Zion Lutheran in Sunbury, if anyone local is interested.

Before I go, a BIG shout out to the genius who produces the crib note versions of choral masterworks (you can actually buy CDs that are mixed in such a way that your vocal part stands out distinctly among the other parts, which are still there so you have context, but are half the volume so you can learn your part). I've been listening to the alto for this piece incessantly over the past week, and that has been my salvation in learning this thing. Even though I was most often listening in the car and couldn't always sing along without the score in front of me, it reinforced my aural memory, and tonight my voice just knew where it needed to go. Take that, you stinking melismas! Ha!

'night,
C.

Soul Tending

Thanks to Shalom and Terri for your comments, and to everyone who called or emailed to see how I was doing this week, and to Breen for ditching her plans Friday night to hang out with me and listen to me blubber on for hours. We had a really beautiful service for Lily this past Sunday, which I hope, I pray, was a beginning of healing for those affected by her death. I know it was healing for me, at least.

So was Monday, when I ended up at Breen and Patrick's for a good chunk of the day, helping them clean up their garden to get it ready for planting in another month or so. I had originally stopped by just to drop off some stuff that I had forgotten to give to Breen on Friday, and they invited me to join them for brunch and to hang out for a while - they were planning to work on the garden, "but you don't have to work to stay, you can just visit while we clean it up." I told them I didn't mind working, and besides, I need to earn my keep in the commune.

[ I decided long ago, and have told them as much, that when the oil runs out, I'm moving in with them, because they've got mad survival skills and are excellent cooks. I am only partially joking. They've decided they'll take me in because I'm a hard worker, a quick learner, I don't mind doing dishes, and I've got mad musical skills. They are also only partially joking. In fact, they might take me in now for the dishwashing factor alone. :) ]

In any case, it felt good to be outside in the sunshine and the fresh air, felt good to use my muscles and be physically tired (instead of mentally and emotionally tired) at the end of the day, felt good to do something that tended to the creation that I knew was ultimately promoting and supporting life (and quality of life), felt good to do something tangible that had a distinct beginning, middle, and end, with measurable results I could see and point to when all was said and done.

As I was raking, I was reminded of something a colleague once said to me the year I worked in DC. I had started working for the ELCA's Washington Office in September and was pretty thoroughly disillusioned with our whole system of government and all the self-serving numbskulls therein (self-righteous much?) by Thanksgiving. I was sharing my frustrations and jadedness with J.D., my older, wiser, more experienced counterpart in the United Methodist Church, and he told me "It's good that you're disillusioned right now, you should be. And it's even ok for you to stay disillusioned as you do your job through the rest of this year. Then when you're done here, you need to go back to Minnesota and spend the entire next year just planting trees. Just go home and plant trees. Then you'll be ready to come back to DC."

I still haven't made it back to DC vocationally, and don't know that I ever will. But clearly, I do still think about that advice, and I find it just as applicable, just as appropriate, to the work I do here.

Sometimes, for the sake of your own soul, you've just got to stop and plant some trees.

Peace,
C.

And Their Sorrows All He Knoweth

Children of the Heavenly Father
Safely in his bosom gather
Nestling bird or star in heaven
Such a refuge ne'er was given.

God his own doth tend and nourish
In his holy courts they flourish
From all evil things he spares them
In his mighty arms he bears them.

Neither life nor death shall ever
From the Lord his children sever
Unto them his grace he showeth
And their sorrows all he knoweth.

Though he giveth or he taketh
God his children ne'er forsaketh
His the loving purpose solely
To preserve them pure and holy.

- Children of the Heavenly Father, Carolina Sandell Berg


By gracious powers so wonderfully sheltered
and confidently waiting come what may,
we know that God is with us night and morning,
and never fails to greet us each new day.

Yet is this heart by its old foe tormented
still evil days bring burdens hard to bear;
Oh, give our frightened souls the sure salvation,
for which, O Lord, you taught us to prepare.

And when this cup you give is filled to brimming,
with bitter suffering hard to understand,
we take it thankfully and without trembling
out of so good and so beloved a hand.

Yet when again in this same world you give us
the joy we had, the brightness of your sun,
we shall remember all the days we lived through
and our whole life shall then be yours alone.

By gracious powers so faithfully protected,
so quietly, so wonderfully near,
I'll live each day in hope, with you beside me,
and go with you through every coming year.

- By Gracious Powers, Dietrich Bonhoffer

The past 36 hours. . .

The past 36 hours have encompassed the most difficult, most heart-breaking thing I have ever done as a minister, and one of the most painful and sorrowful things I have ever done in my life.

All day yesterday I was at the hospital keeping vigil with a family awaiting a birth that we all knew would be stillborn.

In the early hours of this morning, with the same thumb that had anointed her aunt and grandma's foreheads with ash only last Wednesday, this morning with that same thumb I anointed little Lily Kathryn's forehead with oil and commended her into the mighty arms of our heavenly Father.

All my carefully constructed theologies of theodicy - all those haunting questions that I'd worked so hard to work out while in seminary - all my supposed answers crumbled as I held that beautiful lifeless baby. Today I'm ready to trade in all the free will in the world if it means no one has to bear this kind of senseless pain ever again.

I've been rationalizing all day, telling myself there's a hidden blessing in what happened, that it spared Lily's parents from having to make even more difficult decisions regarding her medical care had she been born live. And that may even be true. And some if not all of the family may even agree with me. But that's still pretty cold comfort in a room full of broken dreams and broken hearts that were so ready, so willing, so excited to love this little girl into the world.

The thing that's kept me grounded at all today, the thing that keeps invading my consciousness, especially when another wave of grief washes over me, are hymns. Two hymns in particular, both written out of their author's own unspeakable sorrow.

Children of the Heavenly Father is what my soul keeps turning to as I think of Lily, the child already safely in God's bosom gathered, and her family, the children who are still here, who are not forsaken and yet, are left to lament the life that was taken from them.

By Gracious Powers is what my soul keeps turning to for myself, because I certainly did not take this cup thankfully and without trembling, but I long for a faith that would.

I believe Lord.

In your power. In your goodness. In your mercy.

In the gift of new life, every day, here and now.

In the gift of eternal life, in the resurrection of the dead.


Help my unbelief.