I guess it’s finally time to sit down and start pounding out some stuff on here.  A lot has been going on, a lot of my stuff in my head needs to put down in text, and then I need to sleep for a few hours!  :-)

1) My very condensed thoughts on the recent decisions of the ELCA Churchwide Assembly last August

As most of you know, my denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, voted to affirm the place in rostered ministry (pastors, diaconal ministers/deaconesses, and associates in ministry) of gays and lesbians in committed, monogamous, and publicly accountable relationships.  Of course, several other vitally important initiatives were passed as well, including the malaria initiative and full communion partnership with the United Methodist Church, but this was the hot-button topic.  I tuned in that day to the live webcast to watch the proceedings and listen to the testimonials of faithful people on both sides of the issue.  I was very impressed by how each “side” treated the other with care and respect.

When the vote passed, the hall at the Minneapolis Convention Center was silent.  No cheers, no booing.  I immediately felt a wave of incredulity as tears came to my eyes; in the same moment I felt joy (“It passed!”) I also felt a crushing weight as I immediately realized the implications of this monumental decision for those who had voted against it.

To be sure, many ELCA congregations are upset, have left, and are threatening to leave.  Nationwide, bishops are scrambling to calm those who are angered and to more fully inform those who are confused by the recent decision and are unsure what it means for them.  The message the ELCA is trying to reinforce is that we are united in our diversity through our faithful proclamation of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, not by uniformity in scriptural interpretation.  The strangely paradoxical and beautiful thing here is that congregations are free to NOT call a gay or lesbian pastor if they choose not to due to their “bound conscience” on interpretation of scripture.  Personally, the places where those congregations tend to exist (typically extremely rural and with an aging membership) are most likely places that most gay and lesbian pastors would not want to go anyway, but I guess that’s beside the point…

What has been most interesting for me is to see how this decision is beginning to affect straight seminary students.  One student told of returning to his home congregation upon completion of Clinical Pastoral Education last summer (a requirement by our denomination and usually the summer in between the first and second year of seminary) to find his congregation had voted to leave and expected him to leave seminary with them.  Another student just beginning her internship year is facing a similar situation; her internship congregation is in discernment whether or not to leave the ELCA.  What do you do when you find your congregation is leaving or has left you?

Even though this issue is not about me personally, I often feel that as one of the few openly gay people who are known to attend church (or at least one of the few who are known by people or become known to people who don’t otherwise know any gay people) I become the “face” of the issue in people’s minds.  This may or may not be true.  It probably really isn’t in actuality.  Still, I have this fear that people, without knowing me for who I am, see me as “one of THOSE who are causing all this trouble in the church” and will walk out.  I hope that I can become a pastor that people don’t see as “the gay pastor,” who causes people to leave the ELCA, but as a pastor who helps to ignite people’s passion for the gospel of Christ and for mission to our hurting and broken world.

2) Clinical Pastoral Education

I mentioned CPE earlier and thought I would share a little bit about my own experiences with this program since I completed my required unit last summer.  My CPE site was at a Catholic level 1-trauma center near downtown Denver, CO in the midst of a burgeoning hispanic and Hasidic neighborhood.  True to its designation, I saw my share of blood (no guts) mainly from motorcycle accidents (no helmets!) and one stabbing.  The unit of CPE was 10 weeks long and included both “floor time” visiting patients and families and occasionally other clinicians in my assigned units (Trauma ICU and Orthopedics) as well as “class time” with my supervisor and five other seminary students.  Talk about a diverse bunch!

THE MEN: Me, PS from my seminary (married, mid-20s), JW (single, early 20s, Lutheran from another seminary), JA (late 20s, Roman Catholic, from Mexico) and

THE WOMEN: EM (early 20s, Evangelical Covenant) and AS (50-something transgendered United Methodist).

You’d think that a group dynamic like this would be selling tickets for the boxing ring or maybe to see us duke it out in the mud wrestling pit (which would have been kind of fun, honestly) but we all actually really liked each other!  There were several instances where we got together outside of CPE time to socialize and do fun stuff.  Everyone had a great sense of humor but could still get real when it was needed and appropriate.  They were a great group of compadres to have in this learning journey.

That said, about the 4th week into it I was ready to be done.  I didn’t hate it but I pretty much felt like I learned all I needed to learn and was ready for it to be over.  But then by the 6th week, something clicked and I suddenly really had a sense of what I was doing.  I had been wrestling with figuring out what a chaplain “does,” but in reality what I was learning was who I am and what I bring to being a chaplain to those who need it.  On a deeper level, it’s really about letting the Spirit do the work and me just being present to witness it.  I had phenomenal visits with people for the most part and was even asked by one family to put together an informal “celebration of life” service for a family member who had died.  Being with people in their most profound times of vulnerability and grief was humbling and awe-some.  I had to sit and grieve with them, unable to give any platitudes to explain away bizarre twists of fate that snatch the life away of a loved one, and could only, “I don’t know why… it does suck… yes, this is shitty.”  At the same time, I had the challenge of finding that balance of letting people grieve while still proclaiming hope, that they were not alone, that God was still with them, that God did not cause this, that because of Christ death does not have the final word.

I also had the added pleasure of rooming with pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber and her family.  Nadia is an ELCA mission developer (“church planter”) of House For All Sinners and Saints in Denver, an emerging church community that describes itself as “a group of folks figuring out how to be a liturgical, Christo-centric, social justice oriented, queer inclusive, incarnational, contemplative, irreverent, ancient – future church with a progressive but deeply rooted theological imagination.”  I desire to be a mission developer myself, so to live with someone who is DOING the work of mission development and seeing first-hand the challenges of being a more-than-full-time pastor while balancing family and personal life was another level of education all together.  I saw Nadia and her husband Matthew at their “best” and occasionally at their “not so best.”  I got to know their kids.  I gave up my bed for Doug Pagitt who gave a talk on his recent book at HFASS.  I inadvertently left their garage door open too long while they were away only to find later that two of their bikes were stolen!  I fed their chickens (yes, they have chickens in their very urban backyard).  I led a Bible study one night for Nadia at BYOB (Bring Your Own Brain), hosted in the basement of The Thin Man Pub.  I killed lots of huge scary spiders in my bedroom.  I made lots of friends who begged me to move to Denver.  I hiked a 6 mile loop in Rocky Mountain National Park despite the altitude and lack of oxygen.  I caught up with friends in Colorado Springs and family in western CO I haven’t seen in years.  It was one of the most enriching experiences I’ve had in my life thus far.

3) What now?

I’m back in my second year of seminary and I feel much more… grounded.  Most of last year I struggled with my sense of place both in the seminary community (even though I love the school itself and the people) and feelings of homesickness for my family back in Alaska.  I still struggle with homesickness, being away from my family and missing out on their lives like I did for so much of my undergraduate career, but since CPE I feel as though my sense of purpose has been heightened.  Or maybe tightened.

I have a standing offer of admission to another (larger) seminary about 5 hours away in a more urban area. I have been struggling with my decision to choose this seminary over the one I am at now and finally made the plunge to go and visit the school.  Last month I drove there to check it out and while I was impressed by the helpfulness of the various faculty and staff people I met with, as well as the excitement of the city, something felt missing and I realized that I had grown very attached to where I was.  As it had been snowing all that day, I went ahead and cut my visit short, canceled dinner plans with friends there (which was regrettable) and made the 5 hour trek back before the road conditions worsened.

One of the issues that had concerned me about my current sense of place was the seeming lack of a faith community to which I could be part of outside the seminary community.  Over the past year I had visited several ELCA churches and found them painfully lacking in what felt to me like spirit, vitality, and mission.  I visited congregations of other denominations with whom the ELCA has full communion partnerships with (United Church of Christ, Presbyterian USA, and United Methodist) and felt the same thing.  A couple of Sundays I made two-hour drives one way out of sheer desperation to congregations I heard were thriving and lively places of worship and missional engagement.  Part of me felt guilty that I couldn’t just be content to worship God locally even though the conditions weren’t “right” for me because surely God was still there.  I questioned myself further: Am I looking to be entertained in worship?  What are my motivations?  Am I really seeking God or am I seeking a type of aesthetic?  Another part of me had to reassure myself that my particular ways of engaging in worship are not the same as everyone else’s and that was okay.  Upon chatting with other students who were experiencing similar feelings of frustration in finding a local congregation to worship in, I finally resolved myself to the fact that I probably wouldn’t find a “church home” in this small town.

Last month, on a whim, I began searching local congregation websites again and came across one I hadn’t seen before, for a United Methodist church.  I decided to go check it out that following Sunday and attended their “contemporary” worship service.  From the moment I walked in and heard the music, I thought FINALLY.  This is it!  Not only was the worship music fairly well done, but the songs were relevant and resonated with my own longing for intimacy with God.  The pastor’s preaching style was conversational and down-to-earth (not to mention, the pastor remembered my name the following Sunday!).  The people around me actually looked excited to be there.  It was obvious to me that people showed up expecting to meet God there in community.  So, another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Currently I’m taking only 9 credits, just enough to stay full-time and maintain a part-time job outside of school and not be completely overwhelmed.  I’m chairing one of the seminary committees, which is a stipended position, and working at a local coffee shop about 15 hours a week.  H1N1 has been slowly making its way around the seminary and I’ve been keeping myself locked in my room most of the time when I’m on campus to avoid getting sick.  And I take things one day at a time.  That’s about all I have time for!  :-)

I just realized it’s been months since I’ve put anything on here.  I wonder if anyone reads this anymore?  I’m still waffling about the direction I want to take this blog… how personal do I get on here… or if I should keep this blog limited to a particular theme such as spiritual/theological musings and rants?  I somewhat miss my old blog on LJ, but that got a little too… weird… with all the bizarre and somewhat random friending that happened on there.  Also somewhat disconcerting to be too connected…  I don’t know if this makes sense or not… but in the coming weeks I am considering a makeover on this site.

There is a hymn that I really love, called “Canticle of the Turning.”  The refrain goes a li’l somethin’ like this:

My heart shall sing of the day You bring.
Let the fires of Your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears,
For the dawn draws near,
And the world is about to turn.

It was announced recently that my denomination’s task force on sexuality has finalized its work on a proposed social statement on human sexuality, which includes a report with recommendations on ministry standards regarding possible changes to policies that preclude pastors in committed same-sex relationships from the denomination’s clergy roster.  The two documents will be released to the public on February 19.  The next church-wide assembly will be held this upcoming August and among the many other items on its agenda will vote whether or not to accept the proposal.

As someone who is gay and single, I feel as though I live within the eye of the hurricane in many respects.  I sit within the calm and I read my denomination’s monthly periodical, cringing and more often than not getting just as heated as the vitriol I read in the letters to the editor written against “my kind” often by people who don’t know a single queer person and won’t go out of their way to.  But that’s about as bad as the tempest gets for me.  I hear about it.  I read about it.  I’m told that the synod my seminary is located in is by far the most conservative synod in the United States.  I hear about the synod assemblies and church-wide assemblies that are so completely emotionally charged on the issue of allowing gay and lesbian people in committed same-sex relationships to serve as clergy that people scream and cry and say the most un-Christlike things to each other.

And I get where the conservative people are coming from, I really do, but I just have to ask: Why?

Why–well past thirty years since the igniting of the gay rights movement–are we still having this argument over biblical interpretation regarding people’s lives and who they love?  And more importantly, by accepting your gay and lesbian brothers’ and sisters’ gifts and calling within the church especially, what will you lose?  What is at stake here?  

I am afraid that the task force’s proposed statement concluding their sexuality study and their recommendation is not going to be what many of us whom it will directly impact hope for.  I do not have a sense that February 19, let alone church-wide assembly, will be a time when I can wipe away the tears of my queer brothers and sisters caused by the years of spiritual abuse in the church, that the fires of God’s justice will be quenched, and the world is still the same place it was today.  Already, a lesbian seminarian I know is contemplating switching out of the ordination track and going a different direction; she says this is part of her continuing discernment and, granted, not everyone who enters the MDiv track completes it and that is completely okay.  But part of me wonders if she is switching because she is sick of the hassle and part of me wonders if she wonders that, too.  I listen to her discuss discernment and issues with her candidacy committee and that kind of tired look on her face after only having been out a little over a year herself–just one year and she’s already tired!–and I have to wonder: 

When it comes right down to it and they pronounce that “absolutely not,” what will I do then?

Of course I want to hope for the best outcome, especially on behalf of all those who love me, believe in what I’m doing here, and are behind me.  Then again, if the church says “absolutely not,” how is the church serving those who are supporting me?

I don’t have any answers, but I wait with baited breath and pray that the world is about to turn.

Then you should listen to this:

http://belovedschurch.org/2009/01/21/salvation-on-the-small-screen-reading-by-author-nadia-bolz-weber/

And if you like THAT, then you should read this:

Thinking more about hope in the midst of feeling hopeless, I suddenly thought of this electronica jem from my college days.  And God bless YouTube, of course there’s a video of it.

Be inspired.  And don’t let your dreams go tumbling down.

The Echoing Green

I’ve had to catch my breath a bit after living out of a duffel bag the last five weeks.  What a whirlwind, amazing five weeks it has been, too.  There is so much to tell that I’m afraid I could type a novel overnight.

First, Alaska.  My family.  Amazing.  I’m saying “amazing” a lot lately but words can’t even begin to describe (maybe I should use that online thesaurus option I have).  It was especially neat to spend time with my nephew Mike and his wife (my niece-in-law?) Emilie, and their two adorable children (my great-niece and great-nephew!).  My great-niece is three now and we hit it off pretty well this time around at home.  At three years old she is a natural micromanager.  For example, while sitting at the kitchen table coloring together, she made it clear which colors to use when and where and which colors I was not to use.  Look out Big Fortune 500s.

Three weeks wasn’t nearly enough time at home but in that time I was able to spend quality time with my folks.  Every time I leave home and come back they age just a little more.  Not so much in looks, but in their behavior.  My mom’s cholitis/IBS is almost unmanageable, which worries me.  She is so tiny now that she must buy her jeans in the “junior miss” department while my dad continues to gain weight.  I was able to spend some precious time with a few close friends, one of which made sure I spent at least two evenings out at fine dining establishments.  I was very spoiled and very blessed.

All too quickly I found myself back on a plane headed to the Midwest… by way of Las Vegas.  This was sort of a fluke, but the airline’s hub city is Vegas.  So, I amused myself during my layover there wandering around in the casino masquerading as an airport, drinking my Starbucks Espresso Truffle (Crack) Latte, and staring out the large picture at The Strip which looked oddly out of place against the backdrop of the rugged brown mountains behind the mish-mash of highrise buildings, a sphinx, an ominous black pyramid, and the Eiffel Tower.  I had never been to Vegas before and now I see I’m going to have to make a trip down sometime to behold the spectacle that it is.

Back on the plane, this time to my final destination: Minneapolis.  I was met by my friend Scott; he and his partner Erik are excellent hosts.  That same evening my date came and picked me up.  He was better looking than his picture, I thought, and less intimidating.    I found him to be very warm, thoughtful, and even romantic.  I accompanied him to a local natural foods market where we shopped for the required ingredients for dinner, then went back to his place to cook it all up.  I can’t even remember everything that was served that evening except that it was all so delicious.  Even the presentation was impeccable.  It was certainly five-star quality cooking, hands down.  The conversation was even better, with soft jazz playing on the cable TV as a backdrop, we talked into the early hours of the morning.

All too quickly, my two days in Minneapolis drew to a close.  My date was gracious enough to offer to drive me down to Rochester where I was to meet up with a classmate from school.  From there, my classmate and I drove out to Pine Ridge, SD for our January term cross-cultural learning immersion experience.  What’s in Pine Ridge, you ask?  Pine Ridge is the commercial and judicial seat of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation and home of the Pine Ridge Retreat Center.  We spent two weeks there, along with students from two other seminaries, learning about the Lakota history, culture, and worldview as well as touring agencies and organizations on the Rez which are working to make a difference in the lives of the people who live there.  The county in which Pine Ridge is situated is the poorest county in the United States; it is not uncommon for many families to earn an average of $6000 a year.  A YEAR.  Not to mention the shitty hand that was dealt to them by even placing them on a reservation in the first place.  This is the home of Wounded Knee.  Of Black Elk.  Of Crazy Horse.  To say that standing at the Wounded Knee memorial or gazing up at the faces of dead presidents carved into the side of sacred hills which were taken from the Lakota in a shoddy act of legislation by the United States wasn’t seriously depressing is an understatement.  At the same time, though, there is so much happening on the Rez that gives me hope.  I could sense God’s presence there in the midst of seeming hopelessness.  I met so many beautiful souls during my stay there, it was incredibly difficult to leave.

But leave we did.  12 hours in a car later, I am back at my seminary and feeling a little lost and overwhelmed by God’s goodness from all I have seen and experienced all at the same time.  I’m also trying not to think about how much cleaning I have to do in my room tomorrow.  If I squeeze my eyes shut maybe it will all go away.  LOL.

OMG… this is friggin’ hilarious… and painfully poignant.  And we wonder why people don’t like going to church…  Thanks for sharing this with me, Erik.

At my seminary, all of the MDiv (short for Master of Divinity) students are required to be in the rotation of leading one of the weekday morning chapel services.  My turn rolled around this morning.  I wore an alb for the first time ever (for those of you not in the know, an alb is a white robe that typically has a hood on it, though the hood is seldom if ever worn pulled up).  I sang and chanted (cantored).  Still being sick, I am amazed I managed to croak my way through but I got through it.  

One of my friends asked me later how it felt to be up there with the alb and all that, like did it feel as though I were growing into a pastoral identity?  My answer was no.  It felt very bizarre and foreign to me wearing an alb, like a costume representing an era long gone, perhaps a little showy and distinguishing.  I am still trying to make up my mind about things like robes and such.  I don’t think they’re bad, but I just feel… stuffy and set-apart from the rest of the assembly.  Part of the Lutheran theology that I dig so much is the concept of the priesthood of all believers, yet this is something I seldom see in real life.  The albs and vestments definitely set apart the priesthood from the rest of the believers and one never sees a non-ordained person officiate at communion.  I get it and I don’t get it all at the same time.  Jury is still out.

This year, give the gift of clean water to someone who can’t easily get it.

www.adventconspiracy.org

Yeah, can you believe that?  Last night at work I was confronted by my boss and the manager who was working with me one night two weeks ago.  A friend came in with two of her friends to order dinner and drinks.  I served them and eventually brought them dessert: three pastries.  Before I could include the pastries on their bill on the register, I was distracted by something else and momentarily forgot about it.  The manager caught the mistake and brought it to my attention before they even paid their bill.  I acknowledged my oversight, the bill was eventually paid, and I thought nothing of the incident… until last night.

Ever since then, the manager on shift that night suspected I was planning on giving those pastries away to that group without ever charging them.  He brought it to my boss’s attention, who sat on it a good two weeks before bringing it to my attention last night.  What pisses me off the most is how the whole situation was handled.  I was immediately guilty.  Verbally I was lectured about stealing and how wrong it is but I was written up for an oversight/error on the register.  At least, I think that’s how it went down.  Honestly, I was in such a state of shock about being accused of any sort of intentional misconduct that I didn’t know what to think or say.  

After I had time to think about it, I was livid.  And I penned my resignation letter last night and delivered it to my boss this afternoon.  I spoke with her personally again about how the situation was handled and explained that I was leaving not due to being called on making a mistake–a mistake of the kind that happens frequently in this business due to distraction and oversight–but due to defamation of character.  I came highly recommended; I have never worked someplace before where a) a suspicion of this nature wasn’t immediately dealt with rather than sat on for two weeks, and b) I have never ever had my character or integrity called into question like this before.  In my letter I explained that my character and integrity are extremely important to me and I would not work in an environment where I felt like I would always be under suspicion.

My boss was congenial but maintained that she felt she was more than fair in how she handled this situation, given that she “was not the one who made the mistake here.”  I was livid.  But we were at an impasse: she doing what she felt she needed to do as someone who runs a business and, in my opinion, is clearly looking for people to be dishonest, and me who does make mistakes but is not dishonest.  Even rehashing the events of the last 24 hours here causes the anger at what I feel is an injust accusation rise in me like stomach bile.