measuring seasons, measuring change

The weather is amazing in San Francisco. 50-70 degrees just about all the time. Pretty perfect. Only one wardrobe needed. I love it.

The only downside of this weather is that it gets hard to measure the seasons.

I grew up in the mountains of North Carolina where seasons gave form to our lives. They gave us a rhythm by which we knew what to expect next. Change was welcome because it wasn't TOO new, we experienced similar change last year and the year before. We knew that spring brought showers and flowers, summer brought mosquitos, humidity and thunderstorms, in fall the leaves would turn brown and fall to the ground and in winter the air would become brisk and snow and ice were due.

Now in San Francisco, I'm depending on other means of measuring the seasons.

Sports, for one. I know it's fall when football is on our television ALL.the.TIME. And then when it shifts to college basketball, I know we're into winter. Spring and Summer are dedicated to baseball…though I admit we don't watch it as much as football and basketball.

Food and coffee are another way to measure seasons. I love pumpkin and so I really love fall. I know it is the fall season in SF when the coffee shops bust out their pumpkin spice. Then there is a big shift right before thanksgiving to winter holiday themes (gingerbread, caramel, peppermint).

There are certainly seasons in my line of work. Sometimes they are tied to the church calendar (advent, christmas, lent, easter, "ordinary" time). Though, most times I find they are unpredictable. A wave of new folks coming in, a wave of folks moving out. Passions and excitements for projects and movements that wax and wane. I'll admit it's a little unsettling and still takes me by surprise sometimes when the change occurs, though the change itself isn't bad. I'm ready for the "seasoning" that comes with more experience leading an organization where I can take these seasons in stride and even anticipate the next one to come. But for now, my rookie self will just enjoy the ride.

It's probably good for me to get used to surprises in shifting seasons. Helps me to let go of control I don't really have anyhow.

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!

Boundaries

"No" was a word that didn't really exist in my vocabulary. Particularly in response to being asked to do something social or service oriented or that I thought I "ought" to do.

The word "no" entered my vocabulary in seminary, when a dear friend Leslie reminded me I'm not superwoman and shouldn't expect myself to do everything. I have limitations. I need self care. I need boundaries. Say "no," she said.

I didn't realize boundaries were such a major theme in my life until recently. I was talking with my coach about situations in my life and current ministry where I felt like a line had been crossed, I felt manipulated, guilted into doing something, I felt like people were requiring too much of me. And then I realized, I can say "no." I can define a boundary that makes sense for me, for my family, and for the church.

It's a hard thing to move from a place of always saying "yes" to others, always putting the needs of others above your own to a place of creating safe and clear boundaries in which my own needs are respected and valued. In my line of work, sometimes it can even feel wrong. I'm supposed to be super available, always giving, practically Jesus. Wait, no, no I'm not.

As a person of faith, I am called to reach out to others. I'm to share good news and speak truth in love. I'm also to be prayerful, centered, full. As a church, we are to reach out, share good news, comfort, love, challenge injustice. And we are also called to recognize our limits and work within them. None of us, individuals or collectives, are called to do it all.


Boundaries are a hard thing to figure out. Not all boundaries are good. In fact, I'd argue that some of the lines churches and people draw are unfair and hurtful. Still, some boundaries are good and necessary, especially when they are intentional and loving....set for the purpose of building care, safety, and love.

Jeannie, my coach, said often when we pray for patience God doesn't give us patience, God gives us lots of opportunities to practice patience. So. True. I know as I'm more aware, more prayerful, more intentional about desiring boundaries that are healthy and safe and good...I will be presented with many opportunities to practice these boundaries.

So, if you hear me say "no," please don't take it personally. I need to. If I don't pick up the phone or answer your email right away, know I still care about you. I just might be sleeping (no joke, I've been known to sleep 14 hours in a day to catch up), or outside running without my phone in hand, or lost in a good book or ridiculous T.V. sitcom. Know I'm not saying "no" to hurt you. I'm saying "no" to help me.

I don't anticipate this being an easy journey, but I am excited about it.
I'm ready for it.

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.

when relationships fall apart

Most of us experience our relationship with God through our relationships with other humans.

Particularly through the relationships closest to us - a partner, a parent, a best friend. In a lot of ways, this makes sense. It is through our spouse, our family members, our closest friends, that we share intimate love. We depend on each other to understand - and even love - ourselves.

Covenant relationships - where we both commit to care for each other - can be great windows into our faith with God.

But what happens when they fall short or worse, fall apart? What happens when a parent ISN'T God-like in the way they love you? Or a partner diminishes your self worth.... Or a best friend closes you out...

Then these relationships are no longer helpful windows through which to experience and know God. Often in ministry, I have to remind myself and those I care for that human relationships are flawed. That though our faith may be built upon close, intimate relationships, it must be more. Because God is more. God accepts us, loves us unconditionally, and will never EVER leave us alone.

Humans aren't perfect and therefore our relationships with one another aren't perfect. We will make mistakes, we will hurt each other, we will create wounds for each other that sometimes feel too deep to heal. And though we certainly will make mistakes and create wounds in our relationship with God, God will be our rock. God will grant forgiveness and radical love.

Prayers for all those mending relationship wounds. It's really hard, but trust me, God is still there.

church for the broken

I used to think what brought a church together was a communal belief system. We gather on Sundays for worship because we can recite the same prayers and creed. To some extent it is cultural, but also choice.

Now, I think what brings people together to "be church" is a common brokenness. A shared sense of emptiness, a recognition of the hurt in our world, and a hope for something better. As I get to know the people in my church, we do not all ascribe to the same beliefs. The diversity among us is a blessing, actually. Our diverse religious backgrounds and beliefs keep the conversation active and fun. What we share in common is our experience of the brokenness in ourselves and in the world around us. As we come together, we find hope in God and in one another for a world beyond our human experience. One in which healing, reconciliation, justice, peace and love are all possible. Wholeness made a reality.

At first it sounded bizarre to claim that our church was a place for the broken and yet as I think about Jesus on the cross.... brokenness is a huge part of our faith story. It is from this common place of brokenness that new life emerges - resurrection is made possible. Hope again feels real.

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.