Claiming the Collar

On Friday night, I put on my clerical collar and headed out on to the damp streets of San Francisco to participate in Night Ministry.  We walked by a long line of people waiting for the Prince show, in and out of bars, and along the homeless-lined streets offering our presence and prayer.

I've walked with SF Night Ministry once before and it is a powerful experience. There are night ministers out walking every night of the year and they've created quite a community. Several people living on the streets know Pastors Lyle and Tom by name and are quick to share prayer concerns with them. I was surprised this particular night by how many interactions we had with people out drinking on a Friday night and the respect they showed for clergy in collars.

Then, on Saturday, I went to see the movie Spotlight. Spotlight is an award-winning drama exposing the sexual molestation of minors by priests in the Catholic Church. It takes place in Boston in the early 2000s and sheds light on a horrific systemic problem. My blood was boiling at several points during the movie when time and time again survivors shared how they had been preyed upon by someone that they trusted. Even worse, how they were both emotionally and spiritually harmed by the abuse. As their trust for clergy shattered, so too, did their trust in God.

As I walked out of the theatre, our musician Jason asked me jokingly, "You gonna quit?" As in, quit working for the church. Quit being associated with the clerical collar that has been used for harm.

I sat with lots of feelings for a while. On one hand, I experienced the trust given to me Friday night as I wore the clerical collar and walked the streets of San Francisco. I felt closely connected to the ministry of Jesus as I drew attention to the radical statement of love for the homeless and for the drunks. And on the other hand, I felt real shame for how this symbol of trust had betrayed many. I hated how this symbol now triggers abuse of power and bodies, fear and secrets.

I continue to sit with the complicated symbol of the collar and I struggle with how I can best reclaim this symbol for good. I'm glad the media unveiled such a shameful and horrific abuse of the clergy because it takes away the power of the secret and critiques blind trust. I pray that as I - a Presbyterian clergywoman - wear the clerical collar, my life and ministry can be toward rebuilding the trust given to those wearing a clerical collar. I now wear it with much more awareness that the trust I am given is not always earned and I need to be all the more careful with the authority I am given.

Ashes for Action

Following a full morning of #AshesonBART, our church intern Lacey Hunter, elder Tom Pack and I gathered in front of the immigration court building in San Francisco to offer a service of ashes and prayers.

Together with the Interfaith Coalition of Immigrant Rights, we lamented the fear and uncertainty that hundreds of thousands of immigrants feel as they cannot yet apply for safety through Obama's extended programs DAPA and DACA. Read more here.

The connection for me is clear. On Ash Wednesday, we step into the season of Lent. We mark a cross with ashes on our forehead and we remember that we are mere dust...beloved dust...and that as God's creation we belong (in life and in death) to God. We also belong to each other...

"Somos todos seres humanos." We are all human beings. We are connected beyond borders, beyond governments, beyond racial differences...by our faith. By our Creator. By our God.


Thus, Ash Wednesday and this season of Lent cannot be just a time to focus on our personal relationships with God...as important as those are. We cannot just be aware of how God is present to us, but to our neighbors as well.

The ashes remind us that we are dust and we will return to dust. That dust is all of creation...God's creation...we are connected.

This lenten season I'm excited to walk with my community (Mission Bay Community Church) toward a deeper faith as we seek to see and care for our neighbor.

As a great mentor and professor Bill Brown once said, "May we see what God sees, and may our hearts break over what breaks God's heart."

Parts of our Service of Ashes and Prayer was documented by NBC Bay Area News. You can watch online here: http://www.nbcbayarea.com/video/#!/on-air/as-seen-on/Protests-Follow-Court-Order-on-Obamas-Immigration-Reform/292514031

Transience - Rooted in God

2015 is here! Regardless of the fact that I keep writing 2014 on everything...

The turn of a new year always creates a pause in my life for reflection. A moment to mark the transition and look forward to the future.

As I reflect on this past year, I'm aware of the ways I have changed and grown both as a pastor and as a person. I'm also acutely aware of what has stayed the same.

One of the major themes of my ministry in San Francisco is the transient nature of the community. Each year, new people come into my life and into our ministry. And each year good friends and congregants move away. I find myself sitting with both grief and joy at these transitions. Grief that our church community must say goodbye to incredible leaders and faithful disciples and great joy that I've had the chance to meet them and share ministry with them.

San Francisco at Night.

In conversation with a colleague Monica Kilpatrick some time ago, she shared with me the metaphor of a port for my (and MBCC's) ministry in San Francisco. We are here, providing a space, a community, and a format for people to enter into. Some may only visit, stop and rest a while. Others may settle in, grow, share, and lead us. And as we bring people in, we also send some on their way to the next place God is calling them. This metaphor of a port is helpful to me as it reminds me that God has called me to a specific kind of ministry. A place that is active and energetic, fun and engaging. A community that is transient and will continue to change.

I now know that the emotional process of loss will remain the same struggle. The depth of my grief and my joy will stay the same. My heart saddened in the same way now as is was the first time. And honestly, that's a good thing. As hard as it is to say goodbye and grieve, it shows that my heart (and our hearts) are still open to loving. Open to the newness God is bringing our way.

During worship last Sunday, we laid hands on one of our members who is moving away. This ritual of laying on hands and praying over the one who is being called elsewhere is such a beautiful gift for our community. It acknowledges the pain of the loss, lifts it to God and reminds us all that beyond this place, beyond our geography, beyond even our community in each other....we belong to God. We are rooted in God and thus we are forever connected to one another through God.

As I look to the new year, I am excited about the new energy, ideas and growth. I also hold within my heart the people who have come and gone during my ministry at MBCC and I hope you know you will forever keep a place in my heart.

Happy 2015! Here's to remembering, celebrating and jumping into the new year!

Communion on BART

(left to right) Intern Lacey Hunter, Elder Tom Pack, Rev. Dawn Hyde

Things that were awkward about this morning:

- an incredibly tight clerical collar
- standing on the steps of BART holding elements (bread and juice)
- the eyes that stared at us

You see, today is Maundy Thursday. It is the day when we remember Jesus' final meal with his disciples right before he was betrayed, beaten and crucified on a cross.

At Mission Bay Community Church, we celebrate the sacrament of communion every Sunday because we view it as a vital part of our identity. We are fed so that we can feed the world. We extend the fellowship of communion after worship during dinner. Breaking bread with one another provides the space through which we get to see and know each other as children of God.

Per my post on Ash Wednesday, I feel pretty convicted to be in public space more as a pastor and to hold space as holy. So today, Lacey and I broke bread in the very public space of a BART station (Bay Area Rapid Transit) and offered God's love through this sacrament to those on their morning commute.

What we realized is that there is a lot of baggage around communion. People were much more willing to come forward and receive ashes (symbolizing their mortality) than they are to to come for communion (symbolizing new life). Interesting...

As Lacey and I reflected afterwards, we recognized the church's responsibility for creating a lot of baggage around communion. Centuries of rules dictating who is allowed to receive communion and who can bless and give it. The long stares of people passing by made me wonder how many were considering if they were really welcome to partake in the feast. Shouldn't this happen in church? Have I confessed recently? Can females do this?

I stand by the importance of us holding sacred space and pointing people back to God. I realize many people don't know what this day means or why it would even matter, but perhaps having two women in clerical collars holding the symbols of bread and cup sparks some interest. I like to think there will be a (small) bump in google searches for "communion," "bread and wine," or "who were those crazy women outside of Powell St. BART holding bread?" One can only hope :)

Communion is meant to be powerful. Jesus shared this meal right before he suffered and died. But, I don't think it is meant to portray power plays. I get communion and you don't. Or I can serve it and you can't. Pretty sure when we play that game we are missing Jesus' point.

Jesus charges us in his words at the table to love one another. "As I have loved you," Jesus says, "love one another." (John 13:34-35)

It can be uncomfortable to spread God's love out in public. But it can be pretty awesome and faithful, too.

Lenten Prayer Station

Lent is the 40 day period leading up to Easter when we consider the passion story of Jesus. It is a contemplative time when we yearn for God. 

In worship at Mission Bay Community Church we are participating in a lenten prayer station. 

During our time of confession, we consider the ways we have intentionally or unintentionally wronged each other or God. We write down those confessions and our burdens on a piece of paper and then bring them forward to the communion table to nail them to the cross.

The nailing is symbolic. The sound poignant. Nails going into wood reminds us of the violent truth that Jesus was nailed to the cross - crucified - by the brokenness and sin of the world. 

Each Sunday, we will nail our prayers of confession to the cross and then on Easter we will let go of those confessions and the cross will be cleaned and covered with flowers. 

Life, death and resurrection frame the rhythm of our lives and our faith journeys. By participating in this lenten prayer station, we are remembering how Jesus takes our burdens from us and washes us clean. We practice dying to our sin (to the burdens that we carry) and rising to new life in Christ. 

Side story:

I often have these creative ideas, but then have no clue how to actually make them happen. This idea in particular came in conversation with our intern Lacey as we considered what to do in worship to liturgically and physically process Lent. 

I admit I thought it would be easy. Grab two pieces of wood, put them together and wa-la! Creative prayer station.

Well..let’s just say it’s not that easy. This is where my husband Tim really becomes my knight in shining armor. He listened patiently to my idea and then asked a few questions:

(1) How do you plan to attach the two pieces of wood into a cross?

( 2) Do you want it to stand upright?

As soon as he started talking about circular saws and a special rod to create the perfect stand I knew I was way out of my league. He then took the lead. 

We went to an awesome recycling store and recovered wood:

Tim cut the wood, sanded it, and made the two pieces fit perfectly. 

He created a stand so this hefty cross stands on it’s own. 

He even helped me think through the types of nails we would need and how and where to hammer in the sanctuary so we didn’t harm anything or anyone :)

This lenten station has been really cool because it has brought in more of our senses. 

We use our minds and hearts to write down our burdens and sins.
Our hands to nail.
And our ears to take in the sound.

It's one way we are making our invisible faith more visible. One way we are making our faith particular, concrete, involving us in our physical world here and now. 

Urban Pastor

Sometimes I'm overwhelmed by how secular this city is and I wish more people knew and appreciated my identity as a pastor. 

Sometimes I love how I can go completely unnoticed. No one suspects my role as pastor.

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This last Wednesday I felt both of these things as I put on my collar and grabbed some ashes to offer ashes and prayer on BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit). 

Early Morning with intern Lacey Hunter

One of our pastors, Leslie Veen, mentioned last year how protestants always receive their ashes at the end of the day. Wouldn't it be cool to get them first thing? So, as is tradition at Mission Bay Community Church, we set out to try something new. 

It was new for us - hanging out in the train stations and streets of the city instead of holding a worship service in the church building where we normally live. 

I had several reflections from the day:

-  I was amazed by how many strangers approached me with questions. I must have busted the myth of "only males are pastors" about 10 times and had some fascinating conversations about Lent and what the ashes do for our faith.

- I was humbled by the way strangers stepped into the intimate space with me of receiving ashes, recognizing our shared mortality and asking for prayer. It was holy.

- Standing in silence with a sign offering prayer and ashes is my kind of evangelism. Several people eyed me cautiously and a few came forward risking whatever we may offer for the ashes and prayer. Once one person would work up the courage to walk over, others around them would see that we really just were imposing ashes and offering prayer, and then several more people would follow. One woman watched as her friends received ashes, read the scripture verses we had for people to take and said, "You really are just giving out love?" "huh."

My day in a clerical collar on the secular streets of San Francisco taught me that I need to be out there more - meeting God's people. Risking my comfort to mark spaces as holy. 

(left to right) Intern Lacey Hunter, Rev. Dr. Leslie Veen, Rev. Brian King, Elder Tom Pack

(left to right) Rev. Diana Bell, me, Rev. (and mentor) Maggi Henderson 

Good thing I've got some awesome clergy friends and MBCCers who are willing to risk the comfort with me! 

Fairness and Grace

Last night, a small group from Mission Bay Community Church met in my home to eat dinner and study the biblical story of two sisters - Mary and Martha.

You can find the whole story here: Luke 10:38-42. The basic storyline is that Jesus comes to visit their house and one sister Mary sits at his feet and listens while the other sister Martha is busy cleaning the house and providing hospitably to Jesus. When Martha complains to Jesus that Mary is not helping her, Jesus tells her to stop worrying and busying herself. He says Mary has chosen the "better part" by listening to him.

It's a beautiful and important reminder to put Jesus first and for all of us busy/productive people to slow down and prioritize. It also doesn't seem fair. Martha was doing all the things culturally expected of her to prepare for and value the guest and Mary just sat there.

We want Jesus to be concerned with fairness. And yet, Jesus concerns himself with grace.

The more we talked about the story, the more other stories like this came to mind - the story of the Prodigal Son, the Workers who worked different amounts and yet all were paid the same, Jesus's persecution and suffering.... you know, none of those stories seem very fair either.

Perhaps it is our expectations for what we define as "justice" or "fair" that are the problem.
Perhaps our feelings of entitlement and desire for recognition get in the way of our being good people and sharing God's justice and grace.

I left our small group knowing I need to resist my tendency to compare, criticize and want my fair share in order to give and receive grace and love. In order to really put God first.

bring them in without burning them out

Volunteers are amazing. Period.

Especially for organizations like the church I lead, where volunteers really make it possible for us to be viable.

I've been thinking a lot recently about how to create space for volunteers, how to engage new volunteers, and how to facilitate expectations and fair loads. In other words, how to "bring them in without burning them out."

My goal is to help those who volunteer to identify their passions and their gifts and then connect them to opportunities where those passions meet the needs in the community. What I'm learning is that there are some pretty talented people out there with LOTS of passions and great ideas. My connection time is short and the limitation is usually time. How do we as an organization make the connections smoothly and (here goes my boundaries awareness again) how do we practice saying "no" so that the load doesn't become too much for any one person?

If only people weren't so awesome with so many talents, right?  :)

The organization has needs, too. Consistency and Commitment. There are things that have to get done "the nitty gritty" to keep the mission alive. Sustainability of the organization is an ongoing pressure I feel as we want to honor the movements of passions, dreams and new ideas.

As I'm thinking about this I'm curious what resources are already out there?

What creative approaches are you using either in your own discernment of how you volunteer your time or as a leader of an organization that depends on volunteers?

Looking forward to learning from you - the community that reads this - to learn how to better enable and support our volunteers. Thanks (in advance) for your help!

doubts and stouts

It still kind of surprises me that 10-15 people show up each month curious to talk about some controversial/theological issue. It reminds me how hungry people are for a connection, for some understanding about who God is and how God is at work in our lives.

Last night we met to talk about the doctrine of election. Predestination - the belief that God predestines some to heaven and some to hell. Over the years, predestination has given Presbyterians a bad rap. In corny church-culture jokes, we're sometimes called the "frozen chosen." Now, gathered with actual church folk I was surprised to learn that they hadn't really heard about this belief through the church, only through history books. It seems our church is so shocked (or shamed) by the stigma that we don't teach about it anymore.

As always, there were more questions raised than possible solutions and as I know this is frustrating to some, it's quite beautiful for me. As Sarah Miles writes in her book Take This Bread, we are perhaps called to be "the personal and institutional capacity to dwell in the ambiguity and unsettledness."

Many of us were uncomfortable with the belief that God chooses some and not others. We struggled with the continuous tension between God's sovereign character (all powerful, all loving, always present) and our own free will.

We did find grace though. We found comfort in knowing God has reached out to us. We found great encouragement in scripture where it is written in Ephesians 1:4 that "God chose us in Jesus Christ before the creation of the world." We found some solace in 20th c. reformed theologian Karl Barth's thoughts who said that Jesus was both the Elect and the Rejected and that through him all are invited to know God. We felt more comfortable with God choosing all of us, granting us free will and then acknowledging that some will turn away. Also acknowledging that justice needs to be part of the equation and we don't need to play judge, but trust that God does.

All sorts of new questions came up for us: What is heaven, really? And what about hell? Are these places or spaces after death or experienced here, too? What about when Jesus talks about the kingdom coming now (on Earth) in the Lord's Prayer...

Well, stay tuned. Next month, that's exactly what we're discussing. Join us and please feel free to continue the conversation by adding your thoughts here.