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.

Is Jesus the ONLY way?

I've been asked by some of you to blog about our last doubts and stouts gathering where we engaged the question - Is Jesus the only way?

It was a really fruitful discussion and not a topic we all agreed on. Some decided a definitive "Yes," others "No," and many stuck in the middle very aware of all that is at risk by claiming a definitive answer either way.

At stake for us in saying "Yes, Jesus is the only way" to God...to heaven...to eternal salvation and peace is 4/5 of the world's population. What about those who haven't heard Jesus' name? What about people devout in other faith traditions? We sacrifice important interfaith dialogue and working together for peace and justice in the world around us. We limit God's freedom to speak in different ways to different people. Sometimes, safety is at stake by making this claim. We've been violent with one another over this issue by not being tolerant of other faith traditions.

At stake for us in saying "No, Jesus is not the only way" is the costliness of the cross. Various faith traditions allow space to reach out to God, yet Christianity is unique in that we believe that God actively reached out to us by coming to us in the form of a human and giving the greatest gift of sacrifice so that we might know God. If we don't claim Christ as unique and essential to our faith, why practice Christianity over any other religion? Do we take the cross in vain when we say that it is not essential for knowing God? Perhaps our scripture is at stake when we say that Jesus is not the only way.

Rev. Susan M. Strouse gives us some historical and literary context for the gospel of John in her article "Is Jesus the Only Way?" She reminds us that John 14:6 was not written as an answer to a 21st century question about other religions. It was written to help those early Christians - and us, too - not to fear what comes after death.

One suggestion brought up in our conversation is the metaphor of God as a large being, say an elephant, and we are situated around the elephant such that we are all seeing a different view. Those of us facing its front may describe it's trunk, those from the side, it's belly, those in the back, it's tail. God's allowed to be complex :)

Another suggestion was to think about who Jesus is for us - what Jesus stands for - and to try substituting a different word. It was suggested that sometimes our words get in our own way of hearing and understanding one another's experience or belief. So, if we believe that Jesus is truth, light, peace, forgiveness, justice, love, reconciliation....we can say "It is through truth/light/peace/forgiveness/justice/love/reconciliation that you come to God/heaven/true peace/eternal life.

The push back here is that Jesus made it so that there is nothing WE can do to enter God's presence. It is a gift. The language substitutions make it seem like we have to live in truth, light, peace, forgiveness, peace...etc. I get it. I also think it wouldn't be bad (and Jesus would even love it) if we lived that way.

Needless to say this remains a complex issue with no simple answers. Living in the 21st century, experiencing Christianity as a world religion and seeing that we create violence and war over these questions...I think it's important that we seek space for safe conversation, understanding, and tolerance even when we disagree.

We need to claim our faith on our own and not apologize for what we believe. And at the same time we need to be very careful not to play God and use scripture as a weapon to hurt others.

Take time to let God love you

During my installation service (or "my festival" as some members of Mission Bay Community Church call it), Rev. Abby King-Kaiser charged me to take time to love God and for God to love me. She reminded me (as all pastors need reminders) that our jobs, our roles in this community, are not to be confused with the time it takes for us to connect with God. To love God and to be loved by God.

There is a tendency for those of us in ministry to confuse our "pastor work" of shepherding God's people with our own "disciple work" of daily connecting with God, worshipping God, diving into a deeper relationship with God. We think they're one in the same, when really cultivating our own relationship with God is work set apart. I'm finding this to be true for me even after two and a half months of full time ministry. I catch myself not leaving enough time in the day to spend with God, just me - all of me. I'm too focused on other's need for God to see my own.

E Peterson said, "Contemporary pastors have become a quivering mass of availability to everyone but God." ...This feels about right. And backwards. And lonely.

With this reality in mind, I set off this weekend to spend time with God. Tim and I went backpacking on a trail in Los Padres National Park. We turned our cell phones off and turned our attention to the path, to the sounds and the views, to each other, and to God. It was only when I was fully away from the demands of the world around me that I could focus inward on my own thirsty demands for God.
I kept reminding myself I didn't need to feel guilty for getting away. Jesus spent time alone on the mountain to pray.

I didn't have to talk much. I just had to keep walking and I felt heard, understood, comforted. A friend of mine, Kate Buckley, mentioned in her sermon this week what Mother Theresa has said about prayer and it felt just right. In an interview, Mother Theresa was asked what she says when she prays to God. She replied, "I don't talk, I simply listen." The reporter, thinking he understood her asked, "And what does God say to you?" Mother Theresa replied, "God doesn't talk either, God simply listens, too."

I'm realizing that what I need most is time set apart for me to be quiet, for me to listen. And it's during this time that I am convinced more than ever that God is listening to me, too. Hearing my inner struggle, my demand for attention, my unique and thirsty need for God's love.