Stamps: Who Knew?

In the midst of the passing of my father last month, we received so many gestures and glimpse of graciousness and generosity. Friends, family, church members, colleagues, etc. who travelled, some great distances, to be with us at the visitation and/or service. Generous gifts in Dad's memory to the ASP work of Mill Creek Parish. Food, flowers, etc. And cards--oh the cards! Each was such a loving reminder of all whose lives Dad touched, but also of the love and support we have as well.

One of the more random things I received, tucked in a card from someone whose paths I've crossed in conference work, was a sheet of stamps. Forever stamps, to be exact. I was very grateful, and knew they would be used, but I'd never heard of sending someone stamps before. But you know what, I'm now convinced this is a brilliant idea, probably for lots of situations, but esp. for someone who has experienced a loss.

Here's the thing. I didn't feel up to doing thank you notes at first. There was so much going on, and to be honest, once the busy-ness of the service passed, I was worn out and needed a break. I knew I needed to get to the notes, but I just just couldn't make myself sit down and do it. Then today, I finally got the cards I needed and decided to tackle the list--this also included cards I needed to send for other reasons as well. 

And you know what? Those stamps came in so handy. One less things to have to track down, pick up, etc. to finish the task. A small thing, but such a thoughtful one.

So yeah. Stamps. Who knew? 

I may start sending some myself though. What a cool idea.

Things You Should Never Say to a Pregnant Woman...

Between my own experiences and hearing of the experiences of other moms due this month, it strikes me that perhaps a reminder of pregnancy-etiquette might be helpful. To be specific, well-meaning people tend to find it fun or appropriate to say things that are either NOT appropriate, or at the very least, likely to make a pregnant woman (esp. one very pregnant) a bit bitter towards you. It should go without saying that if you shouldn't say these to a woman you KNOW to be pregnant, you certainly should say these to someone you just suspect to be pregnant. So, basically DON'T SAY THESE THINGS EVER.

BTW--I haven't personally gotten all these, but from what I've heard these are common enough that a number of women seem to be getting them from people close to them or just acquaintances.

1. You should/will have the baby on such and such a date. Seriously? Do you know how pregnancy works? The mom doesn't get to choose. And if she has to be induced or have a scheduled c-section, it's probably not something being done to suit your schedule, and likely something she's stressed out about. Either way, no doubt, esp. as her due date approaches (and passes) she's mustering all her energy to not lose her mind with impatience. Even if she manages the super-human feat of staying cool and calm, just leave her alone. Seriously. It's not cute. Or funny. If you have a guess or a preference, keep it to yourself. Chances are, she's spending most waking moments wondering if this or that is an indication of labor. Leave her the heck alone, she's got enough stress about it already.
2. Are you still pregnant? Um, yes, if I'm not holding the baby and/or you haven't heard the baby has come, yes. This relates to any pregnant woman's anxiety at the end of the pregnancy as noted above. Don't say this. You may get slapped.
3. Are you excited? How is someone supposed to answer this question? The answer is yes, right? And assuming it's no, are you really close enough to her to have that sort of a discussion. It's a stupid question.
4. You look like you're ready to pop. See #1 & 2. Also, thanks for reminding the pregnant woman about how big and uncomfortable she already knows she is. Good job with that.
5. Are you ready? See #3.
6. How dilated are you? Are you serious? Really? THIS IS NOT YOUR BUSINESS. Unless you are (1) pregnant or (2) the significant other of someone who is pregnant or (3) a pregnant woman's doctor or midwife, there is NO WAY you are entitled to this information. Besides which, even knowing such a measurement would TELL YOU NOTHING about how close labor is. Nothing.. At all. A woman may choose to share this info, but please, don't EVER ask. What's more, precisely because it tells you nothing, many doctors or midwives NEVER CHECK THIS until a woman is in labor.
7. Can I be there when the baby is born? This usually comes from close family members (shame on you if you're not and you ask this) but even then, this is a rude question. If a woman wants you there, she will invite you. If she does not, then no, she doesn't want to there, and you're just putting her in an awkward position if she has trouble saying no. No, you are not wanted there. Get over it.
8. You're going to tell me as soon as you go to the hospital, right? See #7. You will be told if the couple thinks they need to. And here's the thing--some couple don't tell ANYONE until the baby is born. They want their privacy. You might not do it that way, but it's not up to you. A more appropriate question? So how will you let people know the baby is coming or has arrived? And be gracious whatever they respond. If you're close family (and only if, otherwise, you're rude and are not entitled to know anyway) and you would like to be told sooner, I guess you could ask, but really, don't be pushy. It's not your body or your baby.
9. You look huge/miserable/exhausted, etc. Don't say anything negative. I don't care if she looks like death warmed over. Zip it. Zip. It.

These are actually only a few of the ridiculous things people say or ask pregnant women. NO doubt they are all meant well, but please, banish these from your repertoire. What, then, you ask, is one TO say to someone who is pregnant, esp. very far along? The following are some suggestions, but keep in mind that all women are different, and some days anything you say may upset her. Seriously, she's got A LOT going on in her body and mind. Be nice. The key is to just say these things and not (as seems to be the temptation) follow up with one of the above statements or anything that tries to put an obligation on the pregnant woman.

1. You look wonderful, etc. Just be nice, a la Thumper's mom.
2. I'm thinking of/praying for you. But only if said nicely, not with a tone like, "Because you're going to need it..." 
3. Let me know if you need anything. Don't assume you know what would be helpful though--and be okay if she says she's fine for now. Her pregnancy and the birth of her child is not your chance to assert your won helpfulness. Follow her lead. On the other hand, while everyone else is busy saying all the above things, it's possible no one has offered a hand.
4. Do you want to go grab a coffee or lunch? Those final days of pregnancy drag on. There's a chance she won't want to do anything, but also a really good chance she'll welcome a distraction from the waiting. She may say no (and again, don't pressure her) but she may also be very, very grateful. Follow her lead--she may want to talk about the baby, but she may also desperately want to talk about ANYTHING else.
5. How are you doing? This is generally a safe question, just don't press her. If she says fine, that's good if she gives more detail, that's fine to. Again, ask, but don't pressure for more.

Mostly, I think the rule of thumb is try to think about what it must be like to wait for one of the hugest moments in your life to come when you know it will be soon but don't know exactly when. Don't make her pregnancy about you, and don't add to her stress. Be supportive but not bossy. She'll remember. you might be surprised how many of the women I talk to due around the same time I am are already building of list of people they avoid/aren't talking to/plan to keep their distance from even once the baby is born because of their rudeness during the pregnancy. Pregnant woman certainly don't have a license to be rude themselves, but it can be difficult to stay calm if you're surrounded by a bunch of people who think they're entitled to your personal health information or to direct a process that even you have no or little control over. So be nice. Before long, she'll have a newborn, and there will be a whole host of other things to avoid saying (one woman said she was asked, 4 days after her baby was born, if he was sleeping through the night!) but really, the same rules always apply.

The Inheritance--The Greatest Gift

Yesterday I shared that my father often lent or gave me (and others) books. To be honest, there are some books I know were gifts, but others I suspect were lent...and I just conveniently forgot (and Dad never requested them back).

As I have received the thoughts and prayers of so many, but particularly my clergy and conference colleagues in recent days--and especially as I saw the clergy process in to Dad's service yesterday (the one moment I was most powerfully brought to tears) I was reminded of a story from one of those books Dad either gave or lent me. The book is entitled Stories for Telling, by William R. White (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1986). The story is "The Inheritance." This is one that had stuck in my mind though I haven't pulled the book out for perhaps years. When I pulled it off my office shelves this morning, I found this was the only story book marked in the book. God thing. :-)

The story (said to come from Jewish folklore) goes something like this: There once was a man with ten children who promised to give all his kids 100 gold coins on the day of his death. When the promise was made, he had great wealth and this was not an incredible commitment. However, in his last days, he fell on difficult times and he discovered he would not be able to keep that promise. 

In the day of the man's death, he called his children to him one by one, beginning with the oldest. To each he gave one bag of 100 gold coins, as promised. However, when he came to his youngest son, he was only able to give 20 coins. He explained this to the son, who asked why the father had not, then, made adjustments to the amounts for all the children. the father told the son it was better to keep the promise to as many as possible, but that in addition to those 20 coins, he would give that son his greatest treasure--his ten closest friends. The father explained these were worth more than any gold, and asked his son to be kind to them.

The father died, and the family mourned. When the time of mourning had passed, the older nine left to spend their inheritance. The youngest remained home, saddened by his situation. Though he felt little desire to do so, he decided to honor his father's wishes and reach out to those ten friends. He spent all of his inheritance to invite the friends to dinner.

The friends were impressed with the son's kindness, reflecting that he was the only child who had reached out to them. So the day after the dinner, they each sent gifts of cattle and money. The friends also helped the son care for the cattle and invest the money. Very soon, the youngest son had greater wealth than all the other siblings. Above his desk, he wrote the words, "Friendship is of more value than gold."

Now, ours has never been a family of wealth or inheritance, but it struck me, as I have been so supported and encouraged by my colleagues, that my father gave me (and my siblings) this greatest gift--the gift of friendship and of being part of an annual conference (and for me, and soon my brother Dan, the Order of Elders, and the friendship of the cool folks in the Order of Deacons). This has, and remains the greatest gift. Thank you all.

My Dad

Today was the memorial service for my dad, Rick Andrews. Technically in the UMC we call it "A Service of Death and Resurrection," which I much prefer. With input from family, I put together a brief summary of Dad's life. The morning after I'd written it, I woke up with a million more things that I thought should be included, but at some point you just have to lay it aside and decide it is enough for now. Still so hard to believe he's gone. So, here it is...not nearly enough, and even reading this, it fails to capture Dad's story, the complexities and challenges of it, or the heights of it, but it's something.

Note: Though I read this referring to "Dad," I wrote it using his name in case my husband Chris or someone else had to step in if I got too emotional.

Richard Willard Andrews was born March 17, 1958 in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. He was the fourth of five children, joining older sisters Barbara, Rebecca and Deborah, and followed by brother Robert. His birth was celebrated locally by an historic March snowstorm the following day which dumped two feet of snow in the area. Ricky, as he was then known, joined the itinerant lifestyle of a Evangelical United Brethren clergy family, finding himself moving multiple times throughout his childhood and youth. By the time the family found themselves in Frederick, Maryland, Rick had shared in many fun times with family and friends—and become a United Methodist. In Frederick, while his father served as Frederick District Superintendent, Rick found a church home at Brook Hill UMC which not only nurtured his involvement in scouting, but also laid the groundwork for his call to ministry, thanks to the pastorates of Lou Robson and Carl Rife.

Rick’s childhood and youth was also filled with many family camping trips, which allowed him to perfect his skill making hobo stew. Rick fancied himself an editor and publisher, beginning with his publishing of his own community newsletter, The West Hills Flash, a publication he had delivered in his family’s Frederick neighborhood. His passion for editing would later flourish as he had opportunity to serve as the editor of his high school newspaper at Thomas Johnson High School in Frederick, Maryland. Remarkably, Rick managed all of this while being himself a horrible speller, who relied as great deal on the proofreading skills of his father.

After a somewhat adventurous youth in Frederick, Rick enrolled at Frostburg State University, where he studied philosophy and English. Though he began his time at Frostburg with little thought to much besides his studies and having a fun college experience, Rick would soon become involved in a college campus ministry that once again nurtured his call to ministry—and thus redirected his focus. It is reported that Rick use to play the Christian rock music of Larry Norman and Randy Stonehill out the window of his high Westminster dorm room to the whole quad. He and his friends Rodney, Eric and Rob use to go up to Backbone Mountain and minister to the youth incarcerated up there.  In the middle of his college career, he met and married the president of the Baptist student ministry, Patsy Brooks.

Rick and Patsy graduated from Frostburg in 1980, two months shy of the birth of their first child, daughter Sarah. Immediately following graduation at Frostburg, and having finally heeded a call to ministry, Rick led the small family to North Carolina, where he began studies at Duke Divinity School and served as student pastor at Ca-Vel UMC. While in North Carolina, Rick and Patsy welcomed Sarah and son Daniel.

After graduating from Duke in 1984, the family returned to Maryland, where Rick began his first full-time position, serving as associate pastor at Chevy Chase UMC. There, the family welcomed daughter Elizabeth then son Jordan. Chevy Chase UMC was a wonderful place for the young family to connect with other families, become exposed to a great diversity of people, and share memorable experiences like camping out together in the living room during a week-long power outage due to an ice storm.

Rick was next appointed to a new church start in Germantown, then took a leave from active ministry. When he returned to ministry, he began a thirteen year tenure at Brooklyn UMC. While there, he continued to nurture his love of history—particularly Civil War history, as well as his love of a wide range of music. Both of these passions he earnestly attempted to instill in his four children. He and Patsy enjoyed offering hospitality to all, and Rick sought to lead the congregation into new ways of serving the community.

Rick always maintained a sense of adventure and a child-like spirit. He rejoiced in the adventures of others, including his children—even when those adventures might make some parents cringe. Rick found joy in even the smallest things, and sought opportunities to help others do the same. For him, this was deeply rooted in his love of God and understanding of the power of the grace and love of God in the world. In recent years, this was evidenced by his joy in preparing to read to the students at his daughter Liz’s school—where he showed up in a bright red jacket and a Winnie the Pooh tie!

In 2005, Rick married his second wife Susan, and began a new appointment at Mill Creek Parish UMC. He treasured his wife and their life together. He developed a new interest in gardening, and enjoyed spoiling their cats. Rick’s love of hospitality continued as he and Susan enjoyed opportunities to host gatherings of family, friends and their MCP family at their home. Rick was particularly proud of the involvement of the MCP family with the Appalachian Service Project.

Rick loved music, both recorded, sung, and played. He himself was a gifted tenor, and for a time, skilled on the acoustic guitar—an interest he was pleased to share with his sons Dan and Jordan. He taught his children to value all kinds of music, from Gregorian chants to classic rock and 90s rap. In recent years, Rick rediscovered a love for golf and developed skill as a connoisseur of craft beers.

Rick was always interested in learning, and loved finding the best books. He was an avid reader, and enjoyed recommending good reads to others. His children, and no doubt others, have many books in their possession which were lovingly passed along for their enjoyment and edification. Rick also valued keeping an open mind and seeing where God was leading him and the Church. He became passionate about the church being inclusive of all people, and constantly sought to find ways to help people understand and accept God’s love and grace for themselves. He particularly enjoyed working with those entering and serving in ministry through his work on two District Committees of Ordained Ministry and on the conference Board of Ordained Ministry.

Rick was proud that all four of his children found ways to serve God, whether through active ministry in the UMC (Sarah and Dan), worship leadership and camp staff positions (Jordan) or teaching in the Baltimore City School system (Liz). He was proud and elated to become a grandfather when Anna Marie was born in 2010, and he was anxiously awaiting the arrival of his second granddaughter due to join the family this August.

Rick is remembered lovingly by his wife Susan, his children, his granddaughter, his parents, siblings and extended family, his friends, colleagues, and church family as a loving example of God’s grace at work in the world. The joy which poured forth from him testifies to his own deep relationship with God through Jesus Christ, and echoes John Wesley’s statement, “The best of all is…God is with us.”

On Quality of Life Retreats at Manidokan

Today begins one of our favorite retreats/weeks at camp: the Quality of Life retreat. Yes, we do have favorites. The Quality of Life Retreat and the week of Deaf Camp are right up at the top.

For those who don’t know, the Quality of Life program is affiliated with our Baltimore-Washington Conference of the United Methodist Church. It is a program that seeks to provide a space where those with HIV and AIDS can be themselves and be loved—and reminded of God’s love for them. According to their information, they have several key purposes…

Quality of Life Retreats provide:

·         crucial health and disease management information;

·         insightful small-group dialogues and exercises;

·         community-building and morale-lifting activities;

·         optional gatherings for worship and spiritual nurture; and

·         ideal settings where participants can meet and mentor, engage and encourage one another through personal sharing.

Quality of Life hosts several retreats throughout the year, and for the past several years, one of those retreats this week has been held at Manidokan.

I was young when this nation first became aware of the AIDS/HIV epidemic. I remember a bit of the confusion about how the disease is transmitted. I remember Ryan White. I remember Pedro on Real World. I watched “And the Band Played On,” a seminal film about how the disease first came to be understood in this country and indeed, around the world. We are still learning a lot about the disease, and still struggling with misconceptions about it. We still have a difficult time, in many cases, talking about the disease, and I suspect many people would still rather see themselves as isolated from it (and would like to keep it that way).

I’ll tell you what though—I have rarely seen more joy than I do during the Quality of Life retreats. Now, granted, I only see the participants and leaders at meal times, and I am sure everyone’s life is different, and each day if different. And all are complex. That is true for all people, and I can only imagine that a diagnosis of HIV adds a myriad of additional complexities. The Quality of Life retreats have offered, though, some of the most memorable, joy-filled moments I’ve seen at Manidokan. Manidokan is blessed to be able to be a part of this ministry.

Beyond that, we are so fortunate that our daughter Anna has the opportunity to interact with all the varieties of people who come to Manidokan, especially those like the participants in the Quality of Life Retreats. Someday, when Anna learns that HIV and AIDS are, and when she finds out that these awesome, nice people (who are oh-so-sweet and kind to her each time they are at camp) were living with this disease, I hope she thinks to herself, “Huh. There isn’t anything different about these people than others. I can’t imagine why anyone would ever have isolated them, or looked down on them.” I hope this teaches her to take the same approach with all people—to see them for the child of God they have been created to be, and not as a category or statistic. I hope that Anna—and our daughter who is on the way—grows to live a life defined by love rather than fear.

So I’m looking forward, indeed, to the coming days at camp. And if you would like to learn more about this ministry, and how you can support it, check out the Quality of Life page. We have come a long way from the 80s and early 90s, but there is much more to do—and much more of God’s love to share.

On Evolution

Last week, at the 2013 Annual Conference of the Baltimore-Washington Conference, a resolution was presented that would acknowledge the evolution is an acceptable theory and is not in conflict with United Methodist teachings on God as creation of all the world. It is both surprising, but also not, that this ended up as one of our most drawn out debates. Now, that really only means 20-30 minutes, but hey, in a year where there was neither discussion of nor debate on the budget, that’s pretty remarkable.

Though I fear it’s a bit passive-aggressive to blog after the fact, it’s all I have (I did NOT want to contribute to the length of the debate—it made us look silly).

First, let me make a few statements that for me are foundational:

1. Genesis actually contains two creation narratives. They are similar, but are, in fact different (a point one speaker apparently did not know, as he talked of THE creation account in Genesis 1). The first account actually goes from Genesis 1:1-2:4a, while the second picks up there (2:4b) and continues probably through the later chapters, but at least till then end of Genesis 2.
2. The point of these creation narratives is not to give a scientific description of creation but rather to make some theological assertions: (1) God created everything, is the source of all that exists, and did so with intention and plan and (2) all that was created was, at the beginning, good. These make seem like insignificant assertions, but just a brief glance at other creation narratives from other religious traditions shows what rather remarkable statements these are. In fact, they even challenge the prevailing Greek philosophical bent that has so distorted Christian theology in popular culture.
3. There is a remarkable symmetry between the progression of these creation narratives and the progression scientists propose for evolution. I don’t think that’s necessary, but it’s cool. Just sayin’.
4.  Given point #2, a rejection of evolution based on seeing the Genesis narratives as attempting to provide the same sort of information that the theory of evolution does is just silly. And, in fact, many scientists claim to have come to or strengthened their faith in God AS A RESULT of studying evolution and the natural world and believing there is no other explanation for how it all STARTED.
5. We quite easily understand God to work through natural processes in many other arenas, so it is hypocritical to believe God could not work through a process that we understand as evolution. Besides, is we assert, as scripture seems to, that God is constantly at work I the world to renew and redeem it, it is quite appropriate that we seem evidences of this progress in very tangible ways. This process ought not to challenge our understanding of God at work in the world. Ironically, the same folks who seem so disturbed by evolution are often the same who will say God sends natural disasters to punish people. So God works through some natural processes but not others? That’s just hypocritical.

All that said, I want to tell you a story that I told last fall in worship at Calvary. As a high school student, I hadn’t spent a ton of time studying evolution, and to be honest, I too struggled with how to see the intersection (or conflict) between my faith in God and belief in God’s loving creation and the scientific theory of evolution. One day, after our first class in evolution in, I think, my sophomore biology class, I went to speak with the teacher. I rather sheepishly told her I didn’t know how to process evolution in light of my faith in God. She said she too was a Christian, but did not feel like her understanding of evolution in anyway challenged her belief in God. In fact, she felt it strengthened it. Her witness, though brief and more academic than anything else, was very important in my own process. I studied, read, spoke with others, and came to believe that indeed, evolution in no way challenged my conviction in a loving God who created all.

Among the other “interesting” points made in opposition to evolution are these—I’ve replied in line:

1.  If we read the Bible literally, we cannot accept the varying time periods between creation and evolution. – WELL…United Methodists DON’T read the Bible literally. John Wesley believed that the Bible contained all things necessary unto salvation, but that otherwise we ought to look for the intention of the Bible. I don’t think that makes it untrue, but I think it forces us to study carefully. When the Bible talks about the day the sun stood still, I don’t believe it did. Partly because we now know the sun doesn’t revolve around the earth (so can’t stood still) but also because at that point, it seems clear that the writer is describing a day that seemed to last forever. The illustration of the sun standing still was his best way to describe what that was like, at the time.
2. If we give up on a literal reading of creation then we necessarily step onto the slippery slope of giving up on Jesus’ death and resurrection. – I don’t believe so. Using the above illustration, do I give up on my belief in Jesus by seeing that as a metaphor? No! Is it necessary for my salvation that I believe the sun stood still? No. Nor do I believe it necessary for my salvation to read the creation narratives literally (just there you have a problem since the two differ). I do, and the church historically has, believe it important to believe in a bodily resurrection. Now some United Methodists would not say that.  But officially we do, and that is a key point that has been worked over through much theological debate. I DO believe it important to accept what many believe are the key points of the creation narratives—that God created all and that it was good.  
3. People who want to believe in science should go join Scientology. – This was, perhaps, my favorite statement, and for those who weren’t there, evidences how silly things got. As I tweeted, it was obvious that the man who said this DOES NOT understand scientology. I’m not even sure where to start in making that point. But just google Scientology and read for yourself, and you’ll be broken of that proposal very quickly.

All that said, good smart people disagree. I know this is a key issue for people, and I also know we have all had different experiences. Many people have never heard a good explanation of evolution, nor have they studied Genesis very closely—and so are taking a stand on this based only on second-hand information. I encourage all to become more fully informed if this is a challenging issue for you. I am certainly no expert on this.

Ultimately, for me, I do not feel that my belief in God or Jesus is constrained by our scientific or academic knowledge. I believe that in my and my daughter’s lifetimes, we will learn more about our world and the universe that is exciting and challenging. Someday what is now science fiction to us (like Scientology started…perhaps…just sayin…) may be more real-life than we can imagine. For those who cannot find ways to apply the Bible in new ways, and contextualize it while maintaining its key elements, this will destroy their faith or push them further into a corner where they are disconnected from the rest of the world. But for those who are willing to admit that God is greater than we can explain, there will be some difficult reflecting, but we will be able to hold onto our faith even into new frontiers.  God cannot be boxed in, and we are called to be part of the hard work of balancing the essentials of the faith, the intentions of holy scripture, and the realities our lives bring us. For United Methodists, this is why we use the Wesleyan Quadrilateral. To do so is important today, tomorrow, and every day to come.

On Mother's Day

I have had opportunity, thanks to some thoughtful friends on Facebook, to read some powerful blogs recently which offer helpful correctives to the at-times silliness, and at other times downright painfulness of Mother’s Day. even irrespective of these missives, I am particularly mindful this Mother’s Day (though I hope I always have been) that motherhood (like, well, any relationship) is a complicated matter. And not just for a few—but for everyone.

From childhood, I was raised to celebrate my own birth mother on Mother’s Day (and, incidentally, at other times and even—gasp—randomly). Meanwhile, I was taught to be grateful for the people in my life who have shaped me. I was taught by my parents’ example that for Christians, family is a broad matter, and not narrowly defined by our culture. My father’s insistence that all women receive gifts on mother’s day in our church when I was a teen has stuck with me. All women in all churches I have served on any mother’s day have been thus gifted. I can list (well, really there are more than I could) women of all types, some with children, some without (for many reasons) who have powerfully shaped me. I think of all these women on mother’s day, though, admittedly, my current planning for the day generally involves celebrating my mother and spending time with my family.

As a pastor, I have been privileged to have heard of and at times walked alongside women whose path to motherhood has not been easy, and for some, has not yet been realized. For others, the basic elements of relationships which might lead to motherhood have been outside of their grasp, or even not desired. I try, and plan this year, to speak to the complexity, pain and joy of motherhood and families in my preaching. To do otherwise would be to fail to speak to people where they are—something I am quite sure Jesus was about and expects us to be about as well.

That said, there is a danger, I suspect, of making such strong arguments on these points that we miss some of the value that is possible in celebrating mothers.

First, it allows the Christian community to reflect on what family and community mean to us—and hopefully, to remember that our nuclear families are merely a part of the larger community, though nonetheless important ones.

Second, mothers have a hard task that is often thankless. Now I know we all have our challenges (God bless teachers who we also celebrate this week). But being a mom is hard work. Some women never come close to getting it right—and their children face a struggle to understand a healthy model of motherhood which may follow them for years, indeed, their entire lives. There is nothing wrong, I humbly propose, with taking a day to remember to thank those who are so closely involved in the raising of young people (teachers, after all, get an entire week). Granted, the emotional baggage that comes with Mother’s Day is hardly rivaled by any other day, but I hope we do not so carefully step that we continue to expect these women to thus function without some recognition. Some expression of a good job done (or tried), and perhaps the offer of a hand, of a meal, of a moment to breathe without having to worry about someone else.

Third, I hope that in our Mother’s Day celebrations we can thank mothers and also reflect on what we can be doing throughout the year to help support them. A while ago, a man at my church came sharing that his Sunday School class wanted to find ways to help single mothers. This man had been, for many years, a single father, and their class had recently looked at statistics about the challenges single mothers face. In that class, there are all kinds of people, men and women, some with children, some without children, and some with, well, complicated stories. I am glad their openness to help others was not restricted by their own personal experiences. In much the same way that I get excited when a group of young parents reaches out to offer support and supplies to a couple struggling with infertility who have become foster parents. You see these are stories of Christian community. Of what it means to be part of God’s family.

I do hope that on this Mother’s Day we are all mindful of the many different paths women’s lives have taken. Some women’s paths have brought children, some have not, but all have brought a journey of faithfulness and care in Christian community. I believe we can celebrate mothers, and also affirm all women who have touched us. We are called (as we are at all times) to be mindful of all in our communities and their varied experiences. I do believe, though, that we are also allowed (and maybe even commended by some lines in Scripture about honoring our mothers and fathers) to celebrate the best of what these people have brought to our lives, to learn from their mistakes, and to seek to care for all children in our communities and families that our love for them might be a model for them of God’s great love.

May God bless mothers and fathers, all who care for children, who teach them, who struggle with infertility, who have graciously decided to care for children born to others, to those whose lives took different paths than they (or others) expected and to all of us that we might affirm each person for who they are, celebrate God’s presence in their lives, and seek daily to grow more faithful and loving.

On Mentors

I started thinking about mentoring a few weeks ago—reflecting on how I’ve experienced mentors, people who thought they were my mentors, or lived into being a mentor of sorts myself. Mentoring is an interesting beast, and probably can’t be neatly separated from supervisory roles, coaching, even friendships. I tried to think, though, about what seemed to be key elements of the best mentoring relationships I’ve been a part of. Here are some things that came to mind:

The best mentors:

1. Know more than you do about whatever it is they’re mentoring you on/in. This doesn’t mean they’re better people, or that you don’t have other knowledge they may not have. But a mentor ought to have at least a bit more knowledge, training and experience. This doesn’t always correlate to age (one way or another).
2. Have a stake in your success. Now this may not be on everyone’s mentoring list—lots of mentors don’t have much stake, but I think the best ones do. At the most basic level, this might just be that others know they are mentoring you and so if you tank, it will reflect poorly on you. Preferably, though, a good mentor will help you reach a new opportunity to level that the mentor has helped secure—and so if you fail, it will very clearly reflect on them. I don’t trust people who try to mentor me (or others) without taking a stake in their success—these people are usually just bossy/know-it-alls.
3. Don’t need you to succeed. So this may sound a bit opposite of the above point, but hear me out. The best mentors do have a stake in your success, but they do not need you to make themselves a success. They don’t need you in a co-dependent way. They mentor you out of a generous sense, perhaps a belief in your skill and a commitment to the organization (which impels them to help raise up the next generation of leaders) but they don’t need you to do their work. They don’t use you like an intern, that is.
4. Encourage (and maybe even compel) you to take the lead at times that will allow you to shine. This implies a lot of DON’Ts: they don’t talk over you, they don’t make you sit back and wait till they’re done doing the “real” work, and they certainly don’t need to make you look bad to make themselves look good. A great mentor may help feed you information in a meeting so you can be the one to share (they don’t need to, because they’re presumably already well-established). They will encourage you to identify and think through solutions. They will offer feedback, but they won’t simply tell you what to do and expect you to get in step.
5. Are not (and are not trying to be) your best friend. I guess this relates to number3—but I think the best mentors don’t mentor you because they NEED anything (other than a desire to help others, help their organization, etc.). For this reason, I suspect you will find some mentors who are helping certain people rise quickly, but who perhaps socialize with others entirely. A good, comfortable relationship is essential, but a great mentor is getting their close friendship needs met outside the mentoring relationship.

These are just a few highlights. I think a mentor could be a supervisor, and is certainly often someone in a position above you (though perhaps not directly so). And I suspect the best mentors probably had good mentors themselves—in some ways it’s like parenting I suppose—it’s easier to be a good parent if you had good ones. Not at all impossible if you didn’t, but just a lot harder. I also suspect that many people don’t like the whole mentoring thing—either because their idea of helping someone is to just tell them what to do, or because they aren’t willing to accept guidance. Being mentored requires both a submission but also some risk-taking yourself—to step into opportunities you may not yet feel ready for but which your mentor believes you are.

The truth is, none of us are self-made people, and some of the most successful people had really awesome mentors along the way. Once you have experienced a great mentor, I think you become quite impatient with bad mentors, and also quite committed yourself to being a mentor.  I also suspect that the best mentors know how to adapt for different personalities—different people need different things, and so even the above list may not be as universal as it seems to me.

What about you? What do you think are key qualities of a great mentor?

On Being a Closeted Introvert

I’m back in the office today after two days at the BOOM provisional exam—as a BOOM member, and as things turned out, a small group leader. For two days—one 12 hour day and a solid 8 hour day the next day—I talked with people, listened, asked questions and facilitated non-stop. It is good, hard work.

It is not, however, physical work. I was sitting most of that time. It was, however, exhausting work. For me, at least.

Now, I think the work of BOOM at these exams is tiring for even the most extroverted of us. But it was a reminder for me of that part of my personality that often seems to surprise people…

I am an introvert.

Really and truly, and I have no doubts about that. My mother, meanwhile, balked when I told her the results of the Myers-Briggs that made this identification. One would certainly believe one’s own mother would know.

The thing is, though, that introversion and extroversion are not necessarily, I think, directly related to being shy or outgoing. I think I am a pretty outgoing person. However, the best definition of the difference between introversion and extroversion at their most basic level is this: extroverts draw energy from being around people; introverts drain energy being around people. This is what I identify with, and what an experience like the BOOM exams powerfully remind me that God created me to be an introvert.

It’s often interesting when people who do not know me well happen to have lunch with me after a full Sunday morning—not a working lunch (for then, I’m still “on”) but a casual one. They often find me to be different than they’d just experienced me, or even than they normally experience me. That is another time my introversion rears its head. After all the people time that my work requires (and which I happily engage in) when I am able to finish and decompress, all need (and truth be told, desire) to be social dissipates. No, I don’t (usually) become a hermit, but my otherwise gregarious personality goes quiet, my mental focus is blurred, and I become far more of an observer of the world.

I’ve long known that my energy level goes in highs and lows—I can plow ahead through the busy-est and more difficult of times, maintaining a level of activity that is pretty high, but if I’m not careful, I will hit a wall. For a long time, I really thought it was an energy thing, just my body making me rest. I have come to believe, however, that this is a mark of my introversion. I can function quiet well for a length of time as an outgoing person…but without opportunity to retreat,  I will hit a wall.

One of the issues candidates for both provisional and full member must always address is boundaries, including their ability to set boundaries for their own self-care. At times, pastors can present this as it everyone must do this perfectly—when few if any of us are. The trick is, our self-care cannot and should not look identical to anyone else’s, and part of maturing and living into our call as pastors is learning about ourselves, how we thrive, and what we need to renew.  And we would do well to respect differences in each other.

So, today, I am nursing my introversion and rather relishing some time sitting in front of my computer in the office. I am still interacting (we cannot, after all, fall prey to our weaknesses) but I know that soon enough, I’ll be recharge and back at it. By the grace of God, God uses both introverts and extroverts to be about what God is doing in the world. We just need to carefully discern both how to be at work and how to be at rest along this wonderful journey!

The Appointment Process: How Anxious Should We Be, Actually?

Now begins that season in the United Methodist year when churches around the US begin wishing…they were just like their Lutheran or Presbyterian—or better yet—independent church brother and sisters down the street. Why, you ask? Because darn it, this waiting to know who our pastor is going to be and not being able to control it is difficult. Even maddening. And certainly disconcerting. How can someone—even if they are a bishop—who isn’t in our church every week possibly know what sort of pastor we want or need? What if they mess this up royally? And on top of that, how can they tell us what we have to pay that pastor, how we have to treat them, and how much authority that pastor has (or doesn’t have) over us?

Meanwhile, UM clergy are not immune from this season of panic and anxiety. Even the staunchest of United Methodist pastors can be brought to their knees this time of year with doubts about whether they made the right choice entering a denomination where so much of their fate is seemingly out of their control. What if no one heeds their requests for consideration for a spouse’s work, or a parent’s need for care? They know they are guaranteed a job, but what if it is a horrible one? What if they are exiled to…(we don’t name those places anymore)?

This season, this early-in-the-appointment-season time, can seem like sitting in the waiting room before seeing the dentist, knowing that at least some of our anxiety is simply about having to WAIT. We don’t wait well. We don’t give over control terribly well, either.

The truth is, we know that everyone involved in this process are human, and imperfect at that. We know the horror stories. Perhaps we’ve even experienced them. Those stories are real, and their consequences are painful to recall. If you’ve ever had opportunity to minister to and with people whose churches have fallen apart in the wake of a poorly-conceived appointment or a pastor struggling under the weight of an appointment that is not a good fit, you know this. If you’ve ever counted yourself in one of those groups, you SURELY know this.

The United Methodist practice of an itinerant clergy goes back to the very beginning of the Methodist story. A combination of many factors, including a church leadership made up of laity who literally didn’t have enough material for more than a certain number of sermons (and thus had to be moved before they ran out of material—this never happens today J), a somewhat domineering church founder (John Wesley has his moments…often), and an emphasis on the leadership of laity within the structures of the church made this a very practical solution. In the early years of Methodism in this country, preachers were rotated, having a maximum of two years on a given circuit. As time passed, this maximum was increased then finally done away with. Today, a church may have a given pastor for a year or for 20 years. Average tenures are increasing, and despite what we might think, don’t seem to average much different than our congregationally-structured brothers and sisters.

The itinerancy and appointment process has many benefits for local churches. Clergy recruitment, training, evaluation and assignment is done and paid for through the annual conference (at least part of seminary expenses, at least, for those who get far enough in the process in time). Yes, clergy have guaranteed appointment, but churches also are guaranteed to, you guessed it, get assigned a pastor. If you question how big of a deal this is, ask a church which has been searching for a new pastor for over a year. The bishop and cabinet are able to look at an entire pool of pastors at one time. Often, churches receive pastors they would never have been attractive enough to draw. Minimum salaries give standardization which allows pastors to move between churches, hopefully without financial penalty (and bitterness). Established standards for benefits and upper-end salary practices do remove some say from the congregation, but they also significantly diminish the awkward position of having to quibble with your pastor about their salary—especially when they are often running a church akin to a small business. Conference leaders are available as resources to navigate the pastor-congregation relationship, sometimes being able to handle difficult situations that congregational churches would have to tough it through on their own.

At the same time, there is need for some clarity about how the process works, and how input is received and accounted for. One of my fundamental beliefs about people is that withholding information (either on purpose or because you lack a good method for disseminating that information) makes people paranoid. No one likes to be told, “Just do what we say.” There is danger that the appointment process can be like that. It has a lot to do with how we present and explain things. Churches who do not regularly receive new pastors are in particular need of help understanding the process—chances are a small church with turnover every 3-4 years has a much better understanding of the process than a larger church which likely experiences such transition every 10+ years—if for no other reason than leadership turnover and loss of institutional memory.

I believe, then, that giving answers, being open to suggestions, and understanding that most of the people in our pews not only fail to understand how the process works, but why we do it the way we do.

One of the things that I really value about the appointment process is the way it empowers (or ought to) the lay people. Congregations DO have a voice, and the better we can explain how this is actually done, the more they will trust the process. In addition, while a pastoral transition can be disruptive, the degree of that disruption often has more to do with the involvement and leadership of the laity than the leadership of the clergy.

Now don’t get me wrong, a pastor can royally mess up a church. I’ve seen it, and it ain’t pretty. But a congregation can also do a lot to dictate how that process happens. And a willingness to be honest about how things are going can help address and change the situation early. One of the challenges is our infinite hope that things will just get better with time. Hint: they rarely do.

On the flip side, it is of course important for conferences—particularly bishops and cabinets—to be responsive to needs and challenges in congregations. Each year, we all have a formal opportunity to evaluate how the pastor-congregation relationship is going. It is very important that this is done truthfully. Nothing is sadder than a situation that is way far gone by the time a district superintendent hears about it. Well, perhaps the only thing sadder is a far-gone situation the DS knew about but avoided dealing with. We ALL have a responsibility to this process.

Here’s the thing: for all the anxieties and questions and even, yes, distrust this season brings, the United Methodist Church has grown with a itinerancy and appointment process. In fact, to be honest, it’s greatest growth happened precisely when pastors moved every 2 or 4 years and appointment was quite arbitrarily. I’m not arguing for a return to that—heck, have you seen what the life span was for a pastor back then? No, thank you!

It is to say, however, that over the course of time, this process has worked. And worked well. Our culture and society has changed, and the process has needed to change with it. Politics and at times odd dynamics shape the process, but at all times, the Holy Spirit is also at work.

This is a time of year for United Methodists when it is easy to dwell in the worst case scenarios. Believe, I know. But life does not consist of worst case scenarios, and God is able to bring good out of any situation. Yes, some situations are painful, but others are wonderfully, surprisingly incredible. Let us pray that this season is just that…for all of us!