Being One of a Kind

 My Mom used to tell me that I was one of a kind. I knew she meant that I was not like my two sisters – who were one year older and one year younger than me. And I knew that she meant that I was different from the other folks my age as well.

I was always unique and marched to the beat of my own drummer. I read thousands of books, even ones the county librarian tried to talk me out of and called my Mom about.  I was a feminist in 1970's redneck West Texas. I wore a t-shirt that read, “A woman needs a man, like a fish needs a bicycle.” I did not follow the crowd and made my own way. I was certain that following the crowd was wrong and that I was supposed to do something different.

It was not always easy. I was teased and made fun of at times. I was made to feel different and was, on more than one occasion, taunted fairly viciously. It was not fun. Growing up different is tough. No matter the reason one finds themselves being considered different – gender, theology, sexual orientation, religion, wealth, educational level, political beliefs, physical abilities, family issues, philosophy, size, clothing choices, gender identity, age, or whatever.

But despite that, marching to my own drummer has continued to be my style all of these years. Sometimes it has made me feel alone, sometimes it has made me feel extremely powerful, and sometimes it has made me just feel different.

Recently I read a story about a whale called “52 Hertz.” This whale has been tracked for years and goes his own way. He does not follow the normal migration pattern of other whales of his “kind.” He makes whale sounds that are on a different frequency than other whales – hence the name 52 Hertz. He was discovered about 20 years ago and continues to make his unique sounding whale call – and there seems to be no answer.

This whale is one of a kind. His sound is one of a kind. He swims the ocean alone, perhaps malformed or maybe a hybrid of two other forms of whales. He is alone – one of a kind – doing his own thing.

We have no way to know if he is lonely or depressed or enjoying his unique nature, but songs and stories have been written about his isolation and loneliness anyway.

You would think that receiving no answer to his unique whale song for decades would mean he might stop – but he doesn’t. He keeps on singing on his own frequency. And he keeps on swimming the North Pacific alone.

One of the amazing things about my own journey is that I have found others who are “one of a kind” as well. We have found each other – through our own “whale song” of sorts and we have found community in each other as we swim. Sometimes they stay for short periods and sometimes for longer. But I keep looking for the other “one of a kind” folks out there.

52 Hertz goes on and on – alone in the world.  He keeps on calling in his unique tone but for whatever reason he never receives a reply. I wonder if he just hasn’t found the way to talk in a way that others like him can understand. Maybe he’s just not accepted because he is so different. I pray for him to find peace and happiness – whatever that looks like for 52 Hertz. And maybe he is happy – we have no way of knowing what he feels. But I know what it felt like growing up as a “one of a kind” person. Luckily I have found peace and happiness.

And I pray for you to find that as well. I pray for you to find someone who can hear your whale song. Whether you feel like you will never be accepted or have already found others – keep calling … keep swimming. There are others out there listening.

You are not alone.

Link to an article about 52 Hertz: http://blogs.plos.org/mitsciwrite/2013/03/05/the-search-for-the-loneliest-whale-in-the-world-pt-1/

Wounded Faith

 This morning I was checking out my Facebook feed and saw the above photo that intrigued me greatly.  It was on the status of a clergy friend who often posts funny photos of himself photoshopped into some absurd situation or onto someone else’s body. So I was intrigued by the seriousness of the image – which I thought was a bit uncharacteristic.

When I really looked at it, I was reminded of the many times my Grandmother or Mom would tell me that I could survive anything through faith and that Jesus was bigger than any of my problems or issues. But there were definitely times in my life when my issues, problems, concerns, or drama seemed much bigger than my faith, bigger than Jesus, and definitely bigger than my understanding of God.

But I distinctly remember being told the opposite as I was growing up. “God doesn't give us more than we can handle,” I was told. Well, if that’s true, then evidently God has a higher opinion of what I can handle than I do.

Now I have to be honest about my life. I am a white, middle-class, highly educated, well employed, fairly healthy American woman. I am a Protestant in a vibrant community of faith and work in a vocation that I love and enjoy immensely. I have good health care and options for where I go to receive treatment when I am sick. I have a home that is warm and comfortable. My son is in a great school and had the ability to apply to multiple magnet schools for high school next year. I have an amazing family – my family of origin and my family of choice— and I know that I am richly blessed.

So how bad could my problems be? Right?

We all have secret pain. We all have brokenness. We all have wounds that do not fully heal despite all the salve we put on them. The truth is that no matter our circumstances in life – there is still heartache, pain and wounds.

Sometimes the pain comes from wounds that we are too frightened to talk about to others. Sometimes it comes from things we had no control over. Sometimes it comes from bad decisions we made in our past. Sometimes it comes from the evil some people do to others. Sometimes it comes from how society treats people that are deemed “others.” And sometimes it is what we do to ourselves.

No matter how we get these wounds - they are real. The pain is real. The feelings that the wounds and pain are bigger than Jesus – bigger than God—are real.  And no easy answers and pithy slogans on photos makes that pain go away. I know that.

But I believe that God helps to heal our wounds if we open our lives to that. I believe that our faith can and does help us survive difficult situations in our lives. I do believe that God is big enough to take our pain, to take our anger, to take our frustrations, and to take our brokenness and help us begin to heal.

For me that healing comes from my faith, from my church community, from my understanding of God’s desire for the best for me, and from the love with which I am surrounded every day.  For me healing comes in the Eucharistic meal I participate in every week with my seminary community and monthly with my community of faith. For me healing comes from a faith life that includes prayer, reading the scriptures, spending time in spiritual practices, and honoring my personal faith needs.

But even those powerful parts of my life do not automatically heal all of my wounds. Some wounds are even deeper than I want to admit. I am trying to be open to healing and wholeness. But I still have the wounds. They have shrunken over the years but I still have the scars. There has been healing and renewal, but that does not make me immune from new pain. There have been moments of complete clarity about my life and other times when everything was foggy. And I know that in all of those situations, God was with me. God was bigger than my pain, but I had to open myself to the possibility of healing. I had to stop focusing on the wounds so that I could feel the power of the healing.

The healing was sometimes as painful as the wounding—because it often involved forgiving the person(s) who injured me. And the healing was not always complete because I often held onto the pain since it was so personal to me.  And it had been such a part of my journey.

Healing comes if we open ourselves to the possibilities. It can be slow and difficult.

Wounds are not bigger than we are. Pain is not bigger than we are. Even though they feel like that sometimes – they are not bigger than God.

I have to remember that – I think that we all do. 

Whiny Thanks and All ...

I have just finished, I hope, one of the busiest periods of my professional career.  And I am exhausted. I have finished my first book, been on the curriculum revision committee at the seminary where I teach, created a brand new course and taught it this semester, had a lot going on in my church and personal life, presented at the meeting of my professional guild, and have taken on too many writing obligations than I should have. So I am beat.

But I am also so amazingly aware of how blessed I am. I have a family I love, a job I adore, students who inspire me, writing jobs that challenge and engage my mind, and I love to teach new and old courses alike. So I am blessed.

I watch friends and even family members struggling without jobs or suffering in jobs they do not enjoy or are not fed by. I watch colleagues struggling with job searches and reduced teaching loads. So I am thankful.

I have not blogged in a while because my writing was focused on my book. I have not felt good about it and have complained because I missed it terribly. But I hear friends and colleagues struggling to get what they want to say on paper and I am aware again how lucky I am to have these projects and contracts to write. So I am appreciative.

Many times, however, when I am busy and tired - I whine. Many times when I over schedule - I whine. Seldom do I stop - and just sit in gratitude and bask in the blessing.

So this past month I took on the Gratitude Challenge on Facebook. I wrote every day of the month of November about things I was grateful for. Some were silly ... like being thankful for ice-cream. Some were situationally based ... like being grateful for a fantastic sermon preached in class by one of my students.  Some were family focused ... like being grateful for the heritage passed on to me from previous generations and the chance to pass them on to my son.

Some were about vocational and personal happiness ... like being grateful for a job I love and the terrific house that is part of my compensation and the chance to live in our wonderful community. And some were deeply personal ... like being thankful for the safety of my son when some friends of my niece were in a terrible auto accident. And some were intensely spiritual ... like being grateful for being part of my faith community in its inclusive, progressive, challenging, incarnational, and prophetic reality.

I am writing this after Thanksgiving week and at the end of the Gratitude Challenge on Facebook - a natural time to stop and give thanks. And I am immensely thankful for all of these things, people, situations, communities, etc. But today I also want to say thanks for keeping me busy, for making me crazy with deadlines, for my family and community, and for obligations that bless me and my vocation.

I may still whine and complain when I allow too much on my plate, but even in those times I want to stop and say thank you. I am grateful for my life - and all that is part of this fantastic existence that God has blessed me with.

Thank you, God for my life - in the craziness and in the calm.

Thank you, God for my family - in their lovely absurdity and in their caring.

Thank you, God for my faith - in the times of doubt and in the moments of certainty.

Thank you, God for my job - in the crush of papers and in the moments of grace.

Thank you, God for my church - in the challenges and in the growth.

Thank you, God for my parents - in their aging issues and in their spry youthful joy.

Thank you, God for my writing - in the moments it rocks and in the ones when it sucks.

Thank you, God for your presence - in all times and in all places.

Thank you, God, again, for my life - in the blessings and in the pain.

Thank you, God.

Hospital Time Warp

I am not a patient person. I fully admit that fact. I am anxious for things to happen. I work on a schedule and plan ahead. So I always take something with me to grade, read, play with, or otherwise keep my brain, hands and spirit engaged. Normal time lapses do not make me too crazy.

But hospital time is ridiculous. I was in the ER and hospital for 24+ hours with a dear friend who had chest pain and shortness of breath. And I can attest with no reservations that hospitals exist in a totally different time continuum than my own. It seems that time in hospitals runs more slowly than anywhere else in the world. Time almost seems to run backward. And at times it seems not to move at all.

Nurses, aides, PAs and doctors are busy and amazing people. They do very tough jobs and work long hours. They are part of a noble calling. I admire them immensely, but they work on a schedule that is completely unfamiliar to me. I feel like a foreigner in a strange land. A land where waiting is the norm.

 We have waited for tests to be run, waited for a room, waited for dinner, waited for test results, waited for blankets, waited for doctors, and waited for news about dismissal from the hospital. Throughout this time - the professionals all around us are busy, polite, engaged, compassionate, and caring. But they cannot speed up a system that runs on a different time continuum. No one can.

So we sit here waiting. Knowing that God has led us through this amazingly tough scare. Knowing that we are being cared for in remarkable ways. Knowing that people are taking care of Shelby with great joy and care. Knowing that we are blessed to have the insurance to not be overly traumatized by the stay in the hospital. Knowing that there are many folks who live in this limbo of "medical time" way too much of their lives. Knowing that we are not alone - that many of our family and friends have reached out to us in remarkable ways. Knowing that God is with us and is guiding us with grace and love.

Knowing all of this is amazing. Knowing that God is in control and not my desire for time to run on my needs is a learning experience. Knowing that I still need to work on this is ok. God is not done with me yet, evidently.

Knowing you all care about us is a blessing.  Thanks.

My Church Needs to Get a Little "Pissed Off"*

Next week The United Methodist Church's General Conference will meet in Tampa, Florida.  This is a pivotal time for our denomination.  We are gathering as a global church to determine a number of issues, including a restructuring plan, guaranteed appointments for clergy who are Elders in our church, issues around homosexuality, financing of our shared ministry, the structure of our general agencies, and how we will move as a denomination into the 21st century.

There has been a lot of lead-up to this global gathering.  Organizing bodies have planned worship, arranged for space, processed petitions, and coordinated meeting schedules.  Bishops have prayed and discussed upcoming legislation.  Groups have petitioned the body about numerous issues important to them.  Annual Conferences and individuals have weighed in on the pluses and minuses of the different proposals.  Advocacy groups have met, discussed and planned strategy to deal with their concerns about the proposals.  Facebook groups have debated the issues on every conceivable level. Blogs and articles have been written, disseminated and discussed.  And this does not even begin to cover all of the preparation for this gathering.

But despite all of this - we will more than likely continue to disagree on a number of the core issues coming before our governing body.  We are a church that have members around the globe and who would be found up and down the political and social issue spectrum.  We are younger and older persons as members.  We come from developing nations and developed nations.  We come from mega churches, rural churches, , suburban churches, village churches, tiny house communities, new church starts, declining churches, growing churches, multi-cultural churches, staff-led and single pastor led congregations, and much more.  Our churches are led by Elders, Deacons, Local Pastors, Lay Leaders, and other leaders both trained and volunteer. We are as diverse as a global group can be.

But we are also similar.  We share a Wesleyan heritage of social justice ministry.  We have a common theological framework of grace - prevenient, justifying, and sustaining.  We rely on the scriptures as our core guide - but we also interpret them with our tradition, experience, and reason.  However, despite these similarities we do not always agree.  The very way to we look at scripture leads us to differing meanings in the texts we read.

With the diversity in our members and our faith understandings, it is no wonder that we have failed on several occasions to even agree that we disagree on key issues facing the church.  But at this General Conference we are at a crossroads.  We come together at a time of great cultural and political turmoil all across the globe.  We come together at a time when we need holy conferencing more than ever before.  We come together needing to find common ground.  We come together at a time when we have to re-vision what our structure needs to look like to be more nimble and efficient in the future.

But this ground will be hard to find -- if we do not listen with open minds, love with open hearts, and fling the doors of our churches open to all.

If I had all of the answers I would offer them here.  Unfortunately these major decisions will take a lot more than one person offering their opinion.  It will take many persons on the floor of the General Conference offering opinions and listening one to the other.  It will take concessions on both ends of the spectrum.  It will require compromise.

Once a seminary professor of mine asked the class she was teaching what we thought of compromise in the church.  One student answered rather flippantly, "It is an agreement that pisses off both groups."  The prof laughed.  The class laughed.  Then the prof smiled slyly.  Then she agreed with the statement, saying, "That’s so often what it takes."

So I ask my fellow United Methodists ... are you ready to be a little bit “pissed off?”* Because I think in order for us to move forward we are going to all have to find room for flexibility about some long held beliefs and opinions.  To move forward we likely will need to embrace other options for faithful discipleship that are not in concert with our own.  To move forward we just might have to agree to disagree - which at this point would be a step forward.

So I pray.  I advocate.  I pray.  I talk to others.  I pray.  I write about my own opinions.  I pray. And I wait for my church to speak - hopefully after allowing themselves (and by extension all of us) to grow and stretch together.

And I pray that if we do get a bit “pissed off” at each other - may it be a good thing as we have listened well, loved mightily, worked through our differences, and found common ground.  God has already told us what is expected of us.

"He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.

And what does the Lord require of you?

To act justly and to love mercy

and to walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8 NIV)

Lord, make it so.

*While some will not like the use of this language - it is vital to my story and appropriate to the feelings I have at this time.

Far Away Me: Caring for Parents at a Distance

I am a Tweener – I was born in 1962 so I am not a true Baby Boomer (according to some lists) and I am on the edge of the Baby Buster (Generation X) years.  I have some lifestyle similarities with both groups but definitely claim the Gen X (more Buster than Boomerang) label more than the Boomers.

However, one thing I have in common with the Boomer generation is the fact that as Americans age, this generation is spending almost as many years caring for parents as they are raising children.  This is not a new phenomenon in our country and raises many issues for both parents and their adult children - this group is often called The Sandwich Generation.

More and more Boomers and Busters - and those in between, like me – are caring for aging parents.  And many of us are doing that from a distance.  Estimates say that as many as 7 million Americans are caring for parents from a distance.  That is a lot of caregiving going on by proxy or by phone/internet/Skype/friends/etc. or by occasional visits.  This does not mean our parents are incapable of caring for themselves – it is quite the contrary in my case.  My parents are very young 75+ year olds.  And they are pretty healthy.

But as they age, there are more and more health issues that they are facing now and will be facing in the future.  Several surgeries and illnesses over the past few years for both of them have been tough on all of us.  And my sisters and myself all live at a minimum of 5+ hours and at a maximum of almost 3,000 miles away.  What this means is that they are going through some health situations without their children physically present.  They handle it well.  However, their children struggle with it at times.

I am constantly amazed at how painful it is to not be in the room with them while they are waiting for a surgery to end or for the results of tests to be delivered.  The last few months my dad has been having health issues and talking to them by phone has been so helpful.  But there have also been times when I just break down and cry because I am not there holding his hand or hugging my mom.  My sisters feel the same way, but we cannot get there for every situation.  And that is the rub.  Because in all likelihood it will get worse – not better.

Because I know this state of care will progress.  The National Institute on Aging says “Caregiving, no matter where the caregiver lives, is often long-lasting and ever-expanding. For the long-distance caregiver, what may start out as an occasional social phone call to share family news can eventually turn into regular phone calls about managing household bills, getting medical information, and arranging for grocery deliveries. What begins as a monthly trip to check on Mom or Dad may become a larger project to move him or her to a new home or nursing facility closer to where you live.”[1]   I know I am a ways off from this, but I want to be ready.  I want my sisters to be ready.  And I want my parents to have all of the independence they need for as long as possible and only to help as needed. 

But I have a lot of friends, colleagues, family, and acquaintances who are dealing with long-distance caregiving right now.  I can name ten persons dealing with this situation just sitting here as I type.  And some of them are just exhausted - physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Some advice for them from the National Institute on Aging:

“Although you may not feel as physically exhausted and drained as the primary, hands-on caregiver, you may still be worried and anxious. And you might feel guilty about almost everything—about not being closer, not doing enough, not having enough time with your parent, and perhaps even feeling jealous of those who do. Many long-distance caregivers also find that worry about being able to afford to take time off from work, being away from family, or the cost of travel increases these frustrations. Remember that you are doing the best you can given the circumstances and that you can only do what you can do. It may help to know that these are feelings shared by many other long-distance caregivers—you are not alone in this.”[2]

My parents are amazing.  I love them and want to be there for them as they need me.  And I want to support my sisters, friends, and other family members as they care for their own parents.  Caring for others from a distance is an act of faith – faith in your relationships, faith in your family, faith in your connections, faith in your God to see you all through the journey.

Caring from afar is an amazing gift as well – because it means I have my parents to keep caring for.

---

[1] http://www.nia.nih.gov/sites/default/files/SoFarAway.pdf

[2] Ibid, 38.

Sharing Something worth Sharing

One of my friends posted John Wesley’s Holy Club Questions today on Facebook.  I had not read them recently and they instantly brought me right back to my UM Polity and Doctrine course in seminary at Saint Paul School of Theology in Kansas City, Missouri.  It was an amazing moment of memory and connection.

If you are not familiar with them, here they are:

• Am I consciously or unconsciously creating the impression that I am better than I really am? In other words, am I a hypocrite?
• Am I honest in all my acts and words, or do I exaggerate?
• Do I confidentially pass on to another what was told to me in confidence?
• Can I be trusted?
• Am I a slave to dress, friends, work, or habits?
• Am I self-conscious, self-pitying, or self-justifying?
• Did the Bible live in me today?
• Do I give it time to speak to me every day?
• Am I enjoying prayer?
• When did I last speak to someone else about my faith?
• Do I pray about the money I spend?
• Do I get to bed on time and get up on time?
• Do I disobey God in anything?
• Do I insist upon doing something about which my conscience is uneasy?
• Am I defeated in any part of my life?
• Am I jealous, impure, critical, irritable, touchy, or distrustful?
• How do I spend my spare time?
• Am I proud?
• Do I thank God that I am not as other people, especially as the Pharisees who despised the publican?
• Is there anyone whom I fear, dislike, disown, criticize, hold resentment toward or disregard? If so, what am I doing about it?
• Do I grumble or complain constantly?
• Is Christ real to me?

Several of these jumped out at me, but the one that constantly brings me up short asks, “When did I last speak to someone else about my faith?” 

Sharing something “important” in our lives takes place hundreds, if not hundreds of thousands of times, on Twitter and Facebook every minute of the day.  People tweet what they are doing in 140 characters or less even if it seems trivial or pointless to others.  People update their status on Facebook whether it is about an awesome cup of coffee, a gripe about their job, or a life changing event.  We sit around dinner tables at home and in restaurants telling others about things that we did during that particular day.  Sharing daily events happens all the time.

But faith is something we could be sharing more often than most of us currently are.  The question asks, simply, are your talking about your faith with others?  And more pointedly, when was the last time you did so?

My faith is vital to who I am.  Living my faith is a daily activity.  Walking with God is essential to my life.  Being part of a community of faith is my lifeblood.  Taking time to pray is a daily ritual.  Being a servant for justice makes my faith walk and talk in the world.  Following the example of Jesus is something I strive to do always.

But again, Wesley asks, “When did I last speak to someone else about my faith?”  For me it’s easy.  I had a talk about my faith on the plane coming back from Texas earlier this month after my seatmate asked what I do for a living and got curious.  But before that - and outside of the classroom or pulpit - it has been a while. And I need to be better about that.

Sharing our faith is an important part of our lives as Christians.  But we often fail to do so.

Why?  Fear, lack of experience, discomfort sharing personal faith stories, lack of relationships with those who we could share with, anxiety about sharing too much, tensions in our own faith lives, and many others keep us from sharing our faith.

Sharing our faith starts with creating relationships – in our work places, in our communities, in our families, in our social networks, etc.  Being ourselves and sharing who we are as people of faith can be as simple as sharing a prayer on Twitter or Facebook, as personal as talking about our church or faith community with friends, or as profound as bringing another person to faith through our words and witness.

We have to start somewhere.  So this week … share your faith with others.  Do it in subtle, simple ways to gain confidence … then you will feel even more comfortable sharing your faith story with others down the line.

Sharing has to start sometime.  What better time than now?

10 Reasons Why I am a Political Junkie

Someone asked me the other day why I am so interested in politics.  They wondered why I watch CNN and C-SPAN, read political news and blogs, and pay close attention to the debates and public discourse of our political leaders and system.  Their reason … and they admitted it … is that they find it all too distasteful and polemical to watch anymore.  So here are my reasons for being part of the process by being a political junkie:

1.  I want to be part of the solution by being an informed voter.  So I pay attention to what candidates are saying during the election cycles – knowing they will likely not get everything done they promise during the campaign but it is important to note what they value and fight for once in office.

2.   Even national politics are local.  The decisions made in Washington affect my life in real ways – my taxes, the roads I drive on, the health care I have access to, the rights my family is afforded (or not), and the ways my son’s education is administered – just to name a few.

3.   I want to participate in creating dialogue between opposing sides of political debates.  This is hard to do but occasionally it can be an amazing process from which to learn and grow. (It can also be extremely difficult and painful – but I believe it is still worth the effort and risk.)

4.  I want to know where my tax dollars are being spent.  Sometimes I agree and sometimes I don’t but it is a good thing to know.  And if I disagree – I contact my representatives and let them know what I think about their decisions.

5.  Every once and a while you see our leaders come together to do something good.  This is rarer than I would want it to be, but it does happen.  Examples – and you may disagree – are increasing the number of kids receiving health care and keeping insurance companies from excluding people based on pre-existing conditions, caring for our planet, taking care of those less fortunate, and providing income help to those who have lost jobs.

6.   Being a participant and voting in every election since I turned 18 years of age allows me to complain with full confidence and integrity.  (LOL!)   I also know folks who never vote but whine all the time about elected officials.  This drives me crazy.

7.  C-SPAN can actually be fun to watch.  It shows us the “sausage making procedure” that is our political process.  It is often ugly and the ingredients are gross but the end result can be enlightening.

8.  I want my son to be part of the election and political process so we watch TV together and discuss the issues.  He is a very informed 13 year old.  He is concerned with the state of our political system and how it will affect his future so he wants to know what is happening.  That makes me proud.  (He also wants to be part of a political protest march someday.  We have marched against gun violence locally but he wants to march for/against something in Washington DC.)

9.  I can impact my community by advocating for new laws that protect the rights of the marginalized, disenfranchised, and powerless.  I can work to limit access to guns by person’s ineligible for purchasing them.  I can work to expand the rights of families who need protection.  I can convey to my elected officials what I value as they debate legislation.  This is the power of one vote – one voice combined with others.

10.  There are moments when I am proud of the system.  Like this week’s celebration of Rep. Gabby Giffords’ service to the House of Representatives.  The touching moment at the State of the Union and the next day's tribute were amazingly uplifting – from both sides of the aisle.  It reminded me of how we can be as a people.

These are just some of the reasons I am an active participant in the political process.  And obviously it is such a tough topic to discuss that I am sure some of you will disagree with my politics - but maybe we at least can agree on why we care.

Doctor Who and My Faith

My family is made up of late arrivals to the Doctor Who phenomenon.  We came to it backwards.  We saw the Torchwood: Miracle Day series on STARZ last year and then watched the earlier episodes of Torchwood through DVDs from Netflix.  That led us to try Doctor Who, the series from which Torchwood evolved.  So now we are seeing some of the earlier incarnations of Doctor Who – played by other actors from the previous ten evolutions of the series.  But we are obviously enamored with Matt Smith’s Doctor Who, since he is the first one we became acquainted with.

What I love about Doctor Who is the humor, the camp, the adventures, the mythology, the companions, the history lessons, The Doctor himself, and the Tardis.  I love that The Doctor and his companions can enter into their time travelling machine – the Tardis – and go on amazing adventures (and I love that it is bigger on the inside than it appears on the outside – isn’t that a great image?).  The Tardis is a Time and Relative Dimension in Space vehicle.  It is spacecraft and time machine.  It is healing station and information portal.  It is a place for reconnecting and for flights of fancy.  It is a place of hospitality and a place of community.  It is a place of salvation and a station for regeneration for The Doctor.  And it is oh so cool!

Theology may not be an active part of the writers’ process, but maybe they are thinking of their own understanding of faith as they write – I don’t know.  I sometimes hear it in the dialogue and sense it in the mythology.  And it makes me happy to watch the shows.

The Doctor is not a human but often must act humanely.  He is often arrogant, cheerfully fun, and completely goofy.  He struggles with what it actually means to “be human” and marvels at the capacity of those humans around him both for grace and for violence (in a recent episode humans are cloned and some of their “Gangers” are completely like the originals and others are not – so it begs the questions “what does it mean to be human?” “And what does it mean if the “Ganger” is more human than the original human?”).  There are some both inside and outside of the show who talk about the double meaning of the word “doctor” – one means healer and the other means warrior.  The Doctor certainly creates this sense of dichotomy.  He is an interesting character.

There is a constant struggle between good and evil on the show.  There is even an episode with angels – who are none too nice in the show.  And there is a clear import to the companionship between The Doctor and those who travel with him.  There is a community between The Doctor, Amy Pond, Rory Williams, and River Song – they are family and they care for each other, are devoted to one another, and protect each other (Rory even stands guard over Amy for 2,000 years in one episode).  The Doctor – an amazingly talented and powerful being with a fantastic “sonic screwdriver”– is constantly in need of the assistance of Amy and others.  The communal nature of the story appeals to many people – as does its sense of the need for others in our lives.

I am not saying that Doctor Who has deep spiritual meaning or that The Doctor represents any deity whatsoever – absolutely not.  What I am saying is that it speaks to my faith and my own struggles with being human, dealing with issues of good and evil, trying to make sane decisions in difficult situations, being part of a community/family, and remaining faithful to one’s true convictions despite the circumstances.  

So I’m gonna stay a Whovian for a long time.  I love it.  I love its seriousness and its silliness.  So I include the video below for fun.  Enjoy!

Time for the Church to Occupy!

Part of an interfaith service at Occupy San Francisco.

As I write this I am recovering from a viral inner ear infection called labrynthitis and sitting in my house with heat, electricity and cable.  When I got sick I called my primary care physician and got in the next day.  I received prescriptions from him and went to a local pharmacy and got them filled.  My insurance paid all but $8 of the bill. I have an amazing job I love that provides me with insurance and payments into my pension account.   My home is not luxurious but is quite adequate for my family.  I have money in my bank account and get to do things with my family that are fun and interesting.  My child goes to a safe and excellent school.  My extended family is relatively healthy and most have good jobs and stable families.  I am lucky. 

I know this intuitively but often get caught up in the issues of my days and weeks and forget.  I know this but sometimes I – probably like many of you – need a reminder.  A transformer blew outside my house yesterday morning and I was without electricity for all of 2 hours.  It was inconvenient but my house was warm and I had things to do to occupy my time.  I have friends in areas affected by the recent storms that are on day 5 without power.  I am lucky.  I know this.

As I write this Occupy Wall Street protesters are sitting in the cold and enduring the elements to protest an immoral, greedy, and unjust economic system that keeps the poor in poverty and protects the rich.  Members of the global community have been rebelling over the last few months in a number of ways.  The Arab Spring has removed dictators from several countries’ leadership and brought new levels of freedom to peoples of the world.  Women in countries where they have limited rights are crying out for education, driving privileges, and voting rights.  Seeking a better world and gratitude for these changes is everywhere – it seems.

Occupy movements are springing up all over the world.  Many are collecting donations of food and are feeding not only those in the movement but the homeless in their areas as well.  This kind of egalitarian and compassionate living is not just being protested for – it is being lived out by their actions.  They are doing what many of us would like to do – but we feel compelled to stay in our own cocoons of safety or are too scared to be part of it or we don’t know how to be part of it all.  Sometimes their purpose seems scattered and I wonder how their efforts may actually create change – but I am grateful they are there.  And I too am figuring out how I can be part of it.

Where is the church in all of this?  I think we ought to be right in the middle of these movements.  I know of clergy groups walking with Occupy across the country.  Ministers are offering pastoral care and Eucharist to those who wish.  Many churches have

Marilyn Sewell, in a recent article on Huffington Post, said, “The church's proper role is to stand on the side of the disenfranchised and to call out wrongdoing and injustice in our society. Jesus did not say," I have come that you might be comfortable." He said, "I have come that you might have life." OccupyWallStreet has given the church an opening, a decisive moment in history. The Holy Spirit is not on the side of safety and stability. When will the church find its prophetic voice?”

It’s time to occupy a sense of thankfulness for all that has and is changing.  It’s time to occupy and take advantage of our opportunity to speak out against injustice, greed and immortality.  It’s time for the church to speak prophetically.  We sit too safely in the cocoons of our worship spaces – we need to meet the people in our communities where they are, we need to stand for something, we need to cry out against violence and abuse, and we need to be the church reaching out to the world.  We need to occupy the places where marginalization is happening and to close those gaps.  This is the time and the church is able.

We are fortunate, many of us, so we should be grateful and honor where we are in life.  And that allows us to speak – we have to utilize that right and responsibility. 

It’s time – let’s occupy.

Agreeing to Disagree in the Church

In every church and/or denomination there are disagreements.  Sometimes the disagreements are about seemingly “small” things – the color of the new carpet for the sanctuary, whether to move the worship time earlier in the summer since the church does not have air conditioning, whether or not to place a memorial plague on the new baptism font, or what time the youth group should meet for pizza.  Obviously these small disagreements can also be seen as HUGE issues depending on the nature of the deciders and the emotions behind the decision needing to be made.  I have seen churches make quick work of these decisions and I have seen them become acrimonious and last for months on end.

Then there are the other more difficult decisions churches have to make.  Sometimes they are about finances – whether or not to build or to close or to add staff.  Sometimes they are about outreach – whether or not to provide a food pantry for the community or to do some other hands on ministry.  Sometimes it is about advocacy – whether or not to speak out against an injustice for those who have no voice.  Sometimes it is about pastoral ministry – whether or not to call or ordain a particular pastor or not.  Sometimes it is about theology – what we believe to be the core theological issue related to baptism or Eucharist or how we think of God.  Sometimes it is about scriptural interpretation – whether or not a particular text means one thing or another or several things at once.

In many churches today disagreements are happening on a regular basis.  Some of them are about seemingly small issues that have become big ones.  Some of them are about BIG issues that are sometimes being thought about in small ways.  Some of them are about big issues and deserve a big table to discuss them around.  No matter what the issues are they all have an impact on those involved – either directly or indirectly.

I am part of a UM Clergy group on Facebook that was created to discuss ministry issues and be a network of support for each other.  Unfortunately, it has devolved into a debating group about the issue of homosexuality and gay marriage on too many threads of conversation.  The issue deserves serious and continued discussion, but that is best done in one-on-one and in small group dialogues where people establish relationships and a level of trust so that they can hear and be heard by others in the group.  This kind of anonymous posting on a Facebook wall and then debating by belittling and demeaning others’ points of view has become tiresome and overwhelming.  There seems to be little room for disagreement without denigrating the person who holds a different perspective.  There are times when even asking a question about a post prompts a tirade.   And on occasion I have posted as well – though I think I have tried never to get personal.

There have been significant changes in how we interpret biblical passages regarding slavery, women in ministry and other passages throughout history.  I believe passages related to homosexuality should be given the same kind of intense scrutiny and interpretative perspective. 

In my tradition we hold Scripture as being primary, however we also are called on to use our own reason, experience and the tradition of the church to determine how we come to theological conclusions and often how we interpret texts.  It is called the Wesleyan Quadrilateral and it is formative to how we as Wesleyans view the reading of biblical texts and the living of our faith lives.  Wesley did not create it – Albert Outler did in his edited work on Wesley in 1964. Outler regrets the term today because it seems to make Wesleyans, and others, think of these four sources as being equal.  And for Wesley they never were.  Scripture was always primary.  But the other sources are vitally important considerations in our theological endeavors. 


The very nature of this quadrilateral means we as Wesleyans have ample opportunity to disagree.  We all read the same Scriptures but the rest of our quadrilateral informs that reading and helps us determine how we come to theological understandings.  Our tradition is varied depending on where we come from, our congregational traditions, and interpretations of our denominational tradition.  We all think differently and reason using differing levels of education, understanding and interest.  Our experiences are as varied as we are - all living unique lives of varying opportunities and possibilities.  All of this means we are bound to come to different theological positions - that allows for the full richness of our denomination.  The fact that we do not all agree is part of who we are.  I never want to lose that.  However, it has become dangerous in some circles.

For many the use of Scripture has become a stick with which to beat others on the head in an attempt to force them to agree with another’s perspective.  For many the use of Scripture has become a way to force others to live out their lives guided by someone else’s archaic understandings of biblical interpretation.  For others it is a grace-filled word of love and grace that opens us up to amazing possibilities.  For still others it is the guide for all things good and noble.  For many it is the Word of God – laid out for us in the Old and New Testaments.

I do not believe we can solve difficult issues by arguing past each other and by pressing our points of view at the expense of relationships.  I do not believe that by belittling others we win points in theological discussions.  I do not believe that the scriptures are weapons.  I do not believe that we make headway by being mean to each other.

I get frustrated with the slow nature of change.  I get tired of trying to get people to listen to other possibilities.  I get annoyed by the reality of exclusion in our churches and in my church in particular.  I disagree with the way many of these texts are used today.  I believe God calls all kinds of people and the church should be open to their gifts for ministry – all of them.  It is God's role to call folks - not mine.  It is my job to affirm those gifts and help nurture and support them.  It is my job to engage those gifts in seminary and prepare those persons for transformative ministry in the world.

You may not agree with me – but I welcome the discussion.  I welcome an open and honest discussion that uses all of our sources as interpretative tools – not just one person’s view of only way to read a text or point of view.  We can talk about carpet color or about the nature of the church or about what we believe the church is calling us to do and be.

So … let’s talk and listen to each other.