Field Education (USA)

Family by Faith

2010-07-23T14:59:00.002-05:00

John Bryant, Denver, NC

The last week of June I helped lead a middle school mission trip to Atlanta, Georgia. The youth had the opportunity to see life in a very urban setting, something many of them had never experienced growing up in Denver, North Carolina. They worked with some distinct populations, including the homeless and the elderly. I believe everyone on the trip was touched and changed in some way while there, myself especially.

Twice I connected with people I barely knew simply through matters of faith. The first was Samuel, who I met at one of the churches where we worked. As far as I could tell, he is not on staff there, just a member who volunteers his time. We talked about the church and the youth. He shared some fascinating insights about early Hebrew culture. As our conversation drew to a close, he called me “brother” and drew me into a bear hug. Now I’m fairly tall at 6’3” but Samuel enveloped me. I experienced an amazing feeling of acceptance from this man I had known for all of five minutes.

The second was Braden, one of the interns at the church where we stayed. I had talked with Braden a few times during the limited free time I had in the evenings but did not know much about him. The same day I met Samuel I ran into Braden shortly before lights out. He seemed edgy and distracted, a far cry from the easy-going student I had gotten to know. As we talked I discovered that his grandmother was in the hospital and the doctors had not given her much time. I asked if he would like to pray and we stood there in the hall as I offered a short prayer for his grandmother and his family. At this point the walls crumbled a bit and Braden released some of the emotions he had been carrying. We didn’t say anything else; no more words we needed. I hugged him and then moved on to get the youth ready for lights out.

Having both of those experiences in the same day really stood out to me. I probably won’t have another conversation with either Samuel or Braden. Yet we shared something that day. We had an honest connection as family. Not a family by blood, but one born of water.

Middle Schoolers on a Mission

2010-07-22T10:06:00.004-05:00

Justin Bieber. Silly bands. Braces. Texting incessantly. Tween study Bibles. If you hadn't guessed by this point, I have spent alot of time with middle schoolers lately.

This past week I traveled with 65 middle schoolers to ReCreation Ministries in Asheville, NC where we participated in missions by sharing the love of Christ through home repair. We painted, dug septic lines, roofed, and grew closer as a group and to God as we washed each other's feet, had dance parties on the bus, and shared life with each other for a week.

As I returned and thought about our time there I was reminded of two verses:

The first provides a basic principle of how we should love:
"My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you." - John 15:12

The second goes on to explain how God loved us:
"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." - John 3:16

Throughout the trip we tried to show this universal love to the widow whose house we were working on, the staff at ReCreation, and all others that we encountered. And as we looked around to see how God was working in our lives, we continually witnessed God's universal and self-sacrificing love being revealed to us through these same people.

The Joy of Water

2010-07-10T15:32:00.002-05:00

John Bryant, Denver, NC

One of my responsibilities at Salem has been working with the day camp. During the summer, the church’s afterschool program becomes a day camp for children in the community. In order to gain more experience with children’s ministry, I lead a devotional one day a week for the day camp. With forty to fifty kids signed up, these devotionals require a fair amount of planning, finding something that will speak to the kids within the camp’s weekly themes. My first one followed a script that a previous intern developed after graduating from Duke, a devotional series that draws on the style of Godly Play. For the second devotional, however, I was on my own.

The weekly theme was Lake Week. I settled on a devotional about baptism. I quickly realized that there was more major concern waiting for me. Since the majority of the kids are not church members, I could not assume they were all Methodist. In fact, most aren’t meaning that not all of them have been baptized yet. So I need to ensure that my message, while staying true to the Methodist beliefs of Salem and myself, would not leave out those from other backgrounds.

I explained baptism in a general manner and then specifically with regards to the United Methodist Church concerning infants, noting that Methodists do baptize older children and adults as well. The focal point was that in the Bible water is often a sign of God’s love for us. So when we see a baptism, we recognize that as God loving us. As I concluded I splashed droplets of water over all the kids. Their screams of surprise and joy reminded me that God loves us in surprising ways. What better way to say thank you than with our joy.

The Body of Christ Broken For You

2010-07-07T18:52:00.004-05:00

Jason O. Evans, Saint Matthews UMC, Greensboro, N.C.

It has been several weeks since my last post. Nevertheless, I continue to walk in God's grace by writing the latest events happening on my internship at St. Matthews. For the past two days in this arid and hot weather, Pastor A. Beverly and I have been serving Communion to the sick and shut-in all over the city of Greensboro, N.C. Yesterday, we served twenty-five people, including members and their families and caregivers.

Today we visited a UM minister who has advanced multiple sclerosis (MS) and his mother. Both are living with the minister's daughter in a nearby suburb. The UM minister also is a Duke Divinity graduate. It was good to talk with a fellow "Dukie." Although the minister's body was weak and wracked with pain at times, he was in good spirits. He gave we words of wisdom. I had the pleasure of serving him Communion.

We also visited a member who has a terminal illness. Since we last seen her, her condition is worsening. It is possible that she can transition at any moment. Pastor Beverly and I were greeted at the door by her live-in caregiver and we were escorted into the member's room. The woman, who recently woke up from a nap, was bedridden, weak and feeble. Pastor Beverly greeted her by kissing her on her forehead. Then Dr. Beverly stated the reason why we came. Dr. Beverly said that she intended for me, the summer intern, to serve the woman Communion, but she that she wasn't in the condition to receive it. The woman, with a quiet resilience, whispered, "Yes I can."

Pastor Beverly reached into our little basket for the Communion elements. I reached into the basket also for them to serve the caregiver. Pastor Beverly served the member, I served the caregiver. Then Dr. B. offered a powerful prayer. Then she kissed the woman's forehead again, and we left.

I realized on these visits with the sick and shut-in the powerful meaning of the broken Body of Christ in Communion. I realized that human bodies get weak, some are wracked with unforgiving conditions and diseases, bodies get old. However I am reminded of the the Last Supper scenes in the Gospels and the broken body of the Suffering Servant which Second Isaiah uttered (Isa. 53).

Christ's body is broken for us on Calvary and at the Table. The dying woman and the MS-strickened minister mustered strength to receive the body and blood of the crucified Lord. The dying woman realized that when she received the elements, she did it in obedience to her Lord. She and the minister know that they will see Him in peace and feast with Him and all of his saints at the table of his heavenly Banquet. May we all hope for the everlasting day when we all shall eat with the Lord at his table forever. Until then, let us meet Him at his table on earth during Eucharist. The Body of Christ, broken for you. Take. Eat.

The Terrible Car Wreck

2010-06-29T12:23:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I think God creates situations in our lives just so that later we'll have a good story to tell. The drama surrounding the first time I preached a few weeks ago is certainly one of those stories.

As I approached the final turn before reaching Campbellton UMC, the church where I would be preaching for the first time in my life, traffic slowed to a crawl. I didn't really have time for this delay since it was getting close to the 11 o'clock hour. Earlier in the morning I helped serve communion at Peachtree Road UMC, and in good circuit preacher fashion I drove 40 minutes to Campbellton for their morning service. I inched forward in my car and eventually witnessed the hold up: numerous police directing traffic around six overturned vehicles which had recently been extinguished from flames.

Immediately I began to pray.

A few hours before, I had woken earlier than usual and prayed that God would work through me and despite me, and that feelings of inadequacy in my preaching would be met with the Holy Spirit. I further acknowledged that on my own I was completely incapable of changing people's lives in the congregation.

Looking at the wreckage in the intersection changed the focus of my prayers. "God, if people from this congregation are dead in this car wreck I cannot handle being the preacher in this church today. You know I haven't had training for this type of thing and there's a large chance I will say or do the wrong thing. I desperately need your help. Amen"

After my prayer and a long while of creeping through traffic I pulled into the parking lot and a leader from the church greeted me. I introduced myself and told him how sad it was that there had been such a tragic accident.

He laughed.

"All that? That's a scene from a new Zombie TV show they're filming today." I laughed a little bit too -- mainly in disbelief and in order to release some of my stress.

Once inside I tried to relax as I was introduced to various members of the congregation. One lady said, "Preacher? You're not the preacher today. We lined up someone else whose name is already in the bulletin." The man who was escorting me around looked a little uncomfortable and confused. I'm sure I looked similar.

I stepped back and let them handle this situation. Eventually the man told me there had been some miscommunication in the congregation they decided that I should go ahead and preach that day in lieu of a preach-off. At this point in the story I like to think that my first impression struck them so deeply that they decided to bump the other guy out. But realistically they knew it would be harder for me to get back out to their church, my whole family was there, and I was sixty years younger than the other preacher.

So we worshiped, God's Word was proclaimed, and ultimately He was glorified. And in the end I was simply thankful no one was dead.

Click below to download an mp3 recording of my sermon. Heads up - it is a low quality recording from my Blackberry, but I like the way it sounds similar to an old time Gospel hour on AM radio.

An Encounter with Christ - Luke 7:11-17

The Children's Wing

2010-06-15T19:23:00.000-05:00

“Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God." - Mark 10:14

When I graduated 5th grade a funny thing happened at church: I could roam freely and not feel like I was confined to the "children's wing" of the building anymore.

Along with this new found freedom I moved from The New Adventure Bible to the Student's Life Application Bible, joined the youth group, began to go on local mission trips, participated in a small group bible study, and started the routine of regularly wearing deodorant. This is the ritual at many churches. Perhaps that is why I was so surprised to see families (parents and children of all ages) acting missionally together last week at one of Peachtree Road UMC's Family Fun Nights.

Family Fun Night sounds like it is a Wednesday night activity for families to come together and be entertained at the church rather than at Chuck E. Cheese. Yet it is far from this. At my first Family Fun Night I witnessed and joined in with 20+ families who were packing backpacks of school supplies for Atlanta City School children who would otherwise be without them in the fall.

Instead of having the kids play tag while the parents served, the kids served alongside with their parents (and we all played Bingo later). An assembly line was formed and the kids counted out and put one glue, one ruler, one pack of markers, one box of crayons, one pencil sharpener, and five pencils in each backpack. It wasn't hard and it wasn't complicated. These kids were participating in the body of Christ and being formed as disciples engaged in the transformation of the world.

Sometimes crazy stuff happens when you let kids out of the "children's wing."

What are some ways your church helps children participate in the life of the community?

A Frustrating Visit

2010-06-15T00:49:00.003-05:00

Robert Flowers
Clemmons, NC

For the second time this past Wednesday, Rev. Roland Barnhardt and I took Emerson Zahn to see his wife, Alberta, at Bermuda Commons nursing-rehab center. Both in their late 80s, the two live in separate nursing facilities. Each week, however, someone in the church takes Emerson to see his wife. Since both Emerson and Alberta suffer from severe dementia, the conversations are usually scattered. Even so, Emerson insists on seeing and caring for his wife each week.

These visits bring to the table one area of ministry that is particularly challenging. When physical and mental disparities separate healthy relationships, where do we look for the work of God? Each new day is God’s gift, but what does this mean for those who are mentally unable to surface two related thoughts? When I observe the long and meaningful relationship still shared by Emerson and Alberta, God’s blessings and gifts are hard to miss. But, for some reason, frustration—either with my abilities or the situation in general—also manages to find its place. This frustration will never completely absolve, but I look forward to wrestling with it and learning from it over the next few weeks and years.

"Reverend"

2010-06-13T18:16:00.003-05:00

Jason Evans, St. Matthews United Methodist Church in Greensboro, N.C.

I preached twice today while Dr. Beverly was away at the Western NC Annual Conference. I delivered a sermon titled "It Doesn't Pay to Do Wrong;" the Lectionary text was 1 Kings 21:1-21a. Standing in the "sacred space" is a privilege and an honor. I wasn't as nervous like the first time I stood in St. Matthews pulpit. However, I did sweat bullets after I exited the pulpit.

The members of St. Matthews UMC were very encouraging and supportive. One of the members referred to me as "Reverend Jason." I had to smile because I haven't been licensed yet within my faith tradition which is Baptist. Moreover, another member came up to me after services and ask me to consider becoming a Methodist preacher. This was a sincere appeal for which I will consider in prayer. I responded by saying that I will go wherever God calls me, although I feel quite comfortable, despite my criticisms, being a Baptist.

This coming week is Vacation Bible School. I look forward to leading the "tweens" of St. Matthews in the Praise Party curriculum published by Abingdon Press. I'll let you all know how it goes. The peace of Christ be with you.

Young Reminder

2010-06-04T17:51:00.013-05:00

John Bryant, Denver N.C.

Sometimes we need to be reminded of what is truly important. I know how easily I get into a groove of doing church work and allow my time to become my job rather than my calling. But God has a way of showing up and reminding me what I am missing.

Last Friday the children hosted a lemonade stand as a fundraiser. In addition to the lemonade, they also sold baked goods, tie-dyed T-shirts, Silly Bands (a collectable new to me but very popular in the church) and painted tiles. Although I was off on Friday, I went down to the church in order to get to know some of the children better.

I was their first customer, so I took the opportunity to browse the tables. I settled on a cup of lemonade, two muffins, and a shirt. As I went to pay, this tile caught my eye. Very familiar words leaped from the marble surface in magnificent gold as I heard the prayer of countless preachers in Goodson Chapel. “May the words of my mouth and thoughts and meditations of each and every heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord our rock and our redeemer” (Ps 19:14).

The tile is now on my desk at the church to remind me from where I draw my support. A valuable lesson from the hand of a child.

Preaching Time!

2010-06-03T12:10:00.005-05:00

Jason Oliver Evans, St. Matthews UMC, Greensboro, N.C.

Last Trinity Sunday, I preached from John 16:12-15. The United Methodist tradition commemorates Trinity Sunday as Peace with Justice Sunday. The sermon was entitled "He Comes to Lead Us!" In the sermon, I talked about how Christ sent the Spirit to comfort, guide, and empower the disciples (that includes today's Christians!) to do the work of the ministry.

Much of the sermon was inspired by an event previously held last Thursday. St. Matthews UMC hosted a Faith and Immigration breakfast sponsored by the NC Council of Churches. I learned a lot about how faith communities are responding to the debate about immigration reform. I was inspired by the speakers.

The whole service was beautiful. When preaching time came, Rev. Beverly introduced me and petitioned the congregation to pray for me as I entered the sacred space to preach God's Word. I stepped into the sacred space with fear and trembling. Nevertheless, I knew that God has a Word for the people present within the sanctuary. I lost track for a moment when I preached from my manuscript. I excused myself for a quick moment then picked up where I left off. I felt the Spirit strengthening me and the nervousness began to wane.

After the service ended, the pastor and congregants encouraged me. I felt their love and appreciation every step after the doxology was sung. A friend also came to hear me and she affirmed the gift stirring within me. We had some refreshments which were prepared in the fellowship hall, then we went out to eat. I felt good that day!

On the second Sunday of June I will be preaching from the story of Ahab and Naboth's vineyard (1 Kings 21:1-21a). The sermon will be entitled "It Doesn't Pay to Do Wrong."

Who are these men?

2010-06-03T09:09:00.005-05:00

Jonathan Andersen, Atlanta, Ga.

At 3:00 last Wednesday my Field Education advisor, Thomas, and I found ourselves breathing quickly as we rushed from the parking lot to the newborn wing of Northside Hospital. A member of the church had been admitted in anticipation of giving birth at any moment. After asking around we found the hospital room she was supposed to be in and saw that it was empty. The nurse cleaning the room informed us that the lady had just gone into the operating room for a caesarean section and that the mother's parents would likely be in the waiting room down the way.

We kept our brisk pace and broke the threshold of the waiting room door while looking around to determine which couple in the room was the soon to be child's grandparents. After a moment of asking around we found the grandparents in the back corner and they immediately rose to greet us.

That is when I saw the look on their face.

Were these two well-dressed men from the hospital?
We informed them we were from their daughter's church.

Why were people from the church coming to talk to us during the middle of the surgery?
We informed them that we were there to celebrate the birth of their grandchild with the family.

Relief quickly washed upon their faces.

In the future I will try and be more aware of the level of importance that body language, demeanor, and approach can have in the midst of such situations. I now have a good set of questions to ask some of the ministers here about visiting those in need, and I'm looking forward to pastoral care classes which I will take one day at Duke Divinity. In the mean time, I am thankful for Field Education which is serving its purposes well as I learn valuable lessons and am able to share the love of Christ to those in the midst of joy and pain in Atlanta.

Prayers for the Sick

2010-05-30T18:46:00.004-05:00

Arlecia D. Simmons, Durham, N.C.

This past week I had the opportunity to interact with all of the generations that make up Mt. Level Missionary Baptist Church. One of my key duties this summer will be to share the teaching responsibilities of the Wednesday noonday Bible Study. This hour of prayer, praise, and teaching is followed by visitation with the deacons and prayer warriors. After this week’s service I ventured to Durham Regional Hospital with an associate minister, two deacons and Mrs. Joyce Turner, the wife of Dr. Turner. No Mt. Level members were hospitalized, so we visited with two people who were “friends” of the church.

Prior to entering the room of the first patient we all had to cleanse our hands and put on hospital gowns. We prayed after exchanging greetings with the family members present and the infirmed older woman. The minister anointed her head with oil while a deacon read James 5:14: “Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord.”

It was on the next visit of the day that my teachable moment occurred. We walked into a room where the patient was unable to communicate with us and family members were not present. It was evident the man was in some kind of distress. Mrs. Turner summoned us to continue with prayer and the group looked to me to lead them. I pray often but was hesitant about praying in this moment. We gathered silently and held hands around the bed of the man who was too sick to acknowledge our presence.

Praying for the sick is one of the topics we had previously discussed in Dr. Turner’s The Holy Spirit and Ministry class, but I still wasn’t sure if I was praying the “right” prayer. Do we ever know if we’re praying the “right” prayer?

After evening Bible Study I was able to talk with Dr. Turner about my concern. He was more knowledgeable about the man's condition, and offered instruction on how to approach similar scenarios in the future. Pray the Scriptures,” he reminded me. This was the same advice Dr. Stephen Chapman, associate professor of Old Testament, gave us during his Old Testament lecture on the Psalms.

At the end of the day I had to make peace with the fact that God knows what to do with our petitions. I was also reminded that to be effective in ministry, we must meditate on the Scriptures day and night. If we are to pray the Scriptures then we must know the Scriptures. If we are unable to recall the words of the psalmists, as Chapman suggested, then we must rely on the Spirit to make intercession.

A Birthday Celebration

2010-05-30T13:12:00.005-05:00

Robert Flowers, Clemmons, N.C.

On my first Sunday in Clemmons, NC, Centenary UMC threw a Pentecost party during the 11 o’clock service. As Rev. Barnhardt read aloud Acts 2, Nolan Hill, a talented artist in the youth, sketched the scene on a white board in front of the congregation. During the sermon, members in the right and left pews competed against each other in a balloon race. Meanwhile, the sound of toy harmonicas swept through the sanctuary. Finally, to top it all off, the members sang “Happy Birthday” as birthday cake was served after the service.

Unaccustomed to such a celebration, my initial thoughts were scattered. At first, I couldn’t understand how a full-blown birthday party fit into a church service. Isn’t church supposed to be quiet, where the congregation does not interact with those behind the alter? Second, I thought about my next 10 weeks. Would every Sunday be like this? What party am I going to throw when it is my turn to preach? In short, I “sneered” at this congregation, thinking that its members were “filled with new wine.”

Yet, as I listened to and re-read Acts 2, my doubt in the power of the Holy Spirit surfaced. Originally, I came into this setting ready to hear one language—the worship style I already understood. Now, having exposed my naivety, the Holy Spirit has transformed my discomfort into feelings of “awe.” Not only do these new feelings allow me to celebrate the different languages of worship, they create excitement—excitement for learning more about how I fit into the church’s mission.

Tongues of Fire

2010-05-27T15:06:00.005-05:00

John Bryant, Denver, N.C.

Like most field education students, my first Sunday at Salem United Methodist Church was Pentecost. I really appreciated how the church weaved several aspects of Pentecost into the service. The confirmation students officially joined the church on Sunday. Since we recognize Pentecost as the birth of the church, this makes a lot of sense. But I had not ever really stopped to consider putting the two elements together. I hope the youth recognized the significance of the timing but even if not, I found meaningful.

Part of the Pentecost service incorporated a dance by seven girls in the children and youth program at Salem. They had three banners, some ribbons, and two flags in the color of fire (red, orange, and yellow). The two flags were the most interesting part for me. At the end of the dance, two girls stood in the center aisle and waved the flags overhead. For a period of time the rippling of the flags was all you could hear. The routine gave me a real sense of the freedom and movement of fire which brought alive the story of Pentecost for me. The sight and sound of the flags rippling like tongues of fire above the heads of the congregation offered a glimpse of what that fateful day in Jerusalem might have looked like.

To all those students in field education placements this summer, to all those persons in their congregations, remember this. You can’t bottle the Holy Spirit or control it. It moves free like fire.

Doxology

2010-05-25T09:38:00.005-05:00

Jason Oliver Evans, Greensboro, N.C.

My first day (Pentecost Sunday) at St. Matthews United Methodist Church in Greensboro, NC was a definitely a learning experience. I arrived before the 8:30 a.m. contemporary service. I greeted the church groundskeeper Mr. Brown and waited for my supervisor, the Rev. Dr. Arnetta E. Beverly to arrive. Mr. Brown took on an impromptu tour of the facility. On the tour I met Sunday's liturgist Dr. Bergmann and host of other congregants.

Then Rev. Beverly arrived, greeted me with a hug, and escorted me and Dr. Bergmann to the Pastor's Study. We spoke briefly and prayed before we exited the study and proceeded to the sanctuary.

An acolyte joined us at the main door to the sanctuary. As service began the acolyte headed the procession of the pastor, the liturgist and me into the sanctuary. I walked beside Rev. Beverly as we headed first toward the altar (where she instructed me to bow) then into the pulpit.

At both services, Rev. Beverly introduced me as the summer intern. I gave a quick remark at each service. At the second service, Rev. Beverly invited me to pronounce the benediction. Then we sang a alternate version of the Doxology ("Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow"). That was an honor. I will be preaching on the joint service on Trinity Sunday.

St. Matthews UMC is a wondering place to learn and grow as a minister. I'm learning to appreciate liturgical traditions which are different from my own (I'm a Baptist). I hope to learn more as the days go by.

The Sun is Still Rising

2010-05-24T15:00:00.004-05:00

Jonathan Andersen, Atlanta, Ga.

Psalm 113:3, "From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same the LORD's name is to be praised."

I sat under this stained glass window yesterday during my first time worshiping at Peachtree Road United Methodist Church in Atlanta, GA. The image of the sun rising daily serves as a strong reminder to me of God's faithfulness to humanity and my need to praise God on a daily basis as well.

Throughout this summer I will preach from a pulpit for the first time, accompany middle schoolers on a mission trip, visit the sick in the hospital, teach the church about Twitter, serve the homeless of Atlanta, and much more. These opportunities for ministry seem exciting yet overwhelming to me at the same time. I know I cannot succeed in any of them by my own power and abilities. Fortunately, God the Father has sent the Holy Spirit who enables us to be powerful witnesses to the saving work of Jesus throughout the world (Acts 1:8). As the sun rises on this new experience in my life I ask for your prayers as I serve in this new place and continue to discern God's call upon my life. I'll be keeping you posted on how its going with some good stories, photographs, laughs, and tears along the way.

The Gift of Pentecost

2010-05-23T21:06:00.004-05:00

Arlecia D. Simmons, Durham, N.C.

Today as I began my field education placement I was reminded of the transformative power of the Holy Spirit. At 7:35 a.m. I arrived at Mt. Level Missionary Baptist Church and met Dr. William C. Turner,Jr., the pastor and DDS Associate Professor of the Practice of Homiletics. During the fall 2009 semester I enrolled in Dr. Turner’s The Holy Spirit and Ministry class, so our conversation naturally began by acknowledging the day as Pentecost Sunday. “And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire,” Turner said reciting Acts 2:3. “Amen!” I responded, recognizing that I would need this same power to guide me during the next 10 weeks of service.

I served as lector during the first service and fellowshipped with members during the breakfast preceding Sunday School. After attending the 10:45 a.m. service I journeyed with the youth department to Frankie’s Fun Park. Those two experiences outside of the pulpit reminded me that “ministry” is always taking place. We are ministering and being ministered to when we listen to a senior talk about canning and pruning a tree to bear more fruit, or when we are present with a group of teenagers during a game of Laser Tag. During the trip I asked the young people about their hopes and dreams, and we discussed how they could accomplish their goals. One of the students prayed before we departed and another prayed upon our return. I was thankful that I could join in on those prayers and sense the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Blessing the Bicycle

2010-05-22T19:24:00.002-05:00

Luke Wetzel, Durham, N.C.

Probably my greatest privilege this week was to lead a group of people in blessing Charlie's bicycle. Charlie is a regular attendee at the three-times-weekly prayer service at Urban Ministries of Durham. The service is a remarkable gathering where people share the many blessings in their lives and those things for which the feel called to pray. Charlie has an joyful and infectious passion for God. He told the group that he had been praying for a bicycle for a couple weeks. Finally he got to spend a few hours working at the Durham Bicycle Cooperative and through his efforts received a mountain bike of his very own. After the service a group of us went out to the parking lot and prayed over his bicycle.

Here is something like what I said:

"This bicycle is a testament to prayer answered.

Almighty Father, through your providence Charlie has received this bicycle. We ask that you bless it, use it for the ministry that you have called Charlie to do. Help Charlie to keep it in good repair. Keep Charlie safe as he rides it. Guide and keep all of us on the roads and sidewalks of of our lives in service to you. We ask all these things in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ. Amen."

This may seem trivial, but I see it as anything but. Charlie's bicycle allows him significant mobility that he previously lacked. On his bicycle, Charlie is able to enjoy God's creation in a new way and go further to spread the hope that is within him for which he does not hesitate to share the reason.

Graduation

2010-05-20T13:01:00.003-05:00

Luke Wetzel, Durham, N.C.

On Sunday I got to attend Duke's commencement exercises. Yesterday, on my third day at Urban Ministries of Durham I attended a graduation of a different sort. Eleven people graduated from UMD's HOPE/BELIEVE recovery program. These men and women had completed a rigorous five months of residence, classes, support groups, and service in the Urban Ministries shelter. Each were making plans for jobs, housing, and clean and sober life outside of the shelter. Some of them already had jobs and housing lined up, others were in process, one woman expressed the desire to learn to play the saxophone. The ceremony was inspiring. It featured an address by Duke Divinity preaching professor, Dr. Charles Campbell. Dr. Campbell reminded the graduates of the remarkable witness that their sobriety is to the power of God to overcome addiction, not only to drugs and alcohol, but to consumerism, to violence, to busyness. Todd, Victor, Wilbert, Jack, Robert, Mike, Lamont, Bobby, Kenneth, Thornton, and Monique still have a ways to go. Addicts don't talk about being "recovered," but "recovering." For them and for all of us there are temptations and challenges daily.

You can read about the event in the Durham Herald-Sun here.

Contributors, 2010

2010-05-18T13:49:00.004-05:00

Jonathan Andersen, from Georgia, has just completed his first year of Divinity School and is serving at Peachtree Road UMC in Atlanta, Ga.

Luke Wetzel, from Kansas, has just completed his first year of Divinity School and is serving in one of our agency placements, Durham Urban Ministries.

Arlecia Simmons, from South Carolina, just completed her first year and is serving at Mt. Level Missionary Baptist Church in Durham, N.C. under the supervision of Dr. William C. Turner.

Robert Flowers, a pre-enrollment student from North Carolina will start at Duke Divinity School this fall and is serving at Centenary UMC in Clemmons, N.C.

John Bryant, from North Carolina, has just completed his second year and is serving at Salem UMC in Denver, N.C.

Serving "The Least of These", Rural and Urban

2009-07-20T15:47:00.002-05:00

Kyle Bauman
Mt. Zion UMC & Hebron UMC
Grandy, NC

"Truly I tell you, just as you id it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me." ~Jesus, Matt. 25:40

I came into this summer with some knowledge of the numerous ways churches can serve "the least of these" - the poor, the sick, the troubled. I'd experienced many of those ways - soup kitchens, construction missions, food pantries - first-hand through mission trips and service projects. What I'm coming to realize, as I reflect on this summer that's all too quickly drawing to a close, is that almost all of those experiences came in urban settings. That's the setting that usually comes to mind when I think of "the least", those who come to a soup kitchen that serves thousands of meals or a shelter with hundreds of beds. I have come to see, however, that there is an equal need for the Church to be in mission to "the least" in rural settings, offering the same services that can help the urban poor.

I have seen this summer the unique needs of these services in the rural setting. While urban service ministries often seem to be limited by their capacity and an inability to serve all of those who need help, rural ministries are more often limited by lack of availability. While there may not be enough capacity in the soup kitchens of Chicago to feed all of those in need there, the situation in rural settings may be the complete lack of such a service. In Currituck County, where I'm serving this summer, there is no food pantry to serve the entire southern half of the county. Right now, there is a truck that comes from the regional food bank once a month to distribute food, and this program is only a year old. The poor of Currituck County are as under-served as the poor in our cities, but here it is because of a lack of services, not a lack of capacity. The pastor of my charge has been working to start a food pantry at Mt. Zion, but the process has taken several months and may continue for several more.

My experience this summer has taught me, among many things, that our churches, whether rural or urban, have the opportunity to meet the needs of "the least of these". There is never a lack of opportunity to be in service to the poor, even if poverty is well-hidden. It is the call of our churches to be actively seeking ways to be in service, because often these opportunities will not present themselves until many have gone without the help they need.

Seeds

2009-06-25T16:59:00.004-05:00

Laura Richards
Columbia, SC

I have been thinking of seeds a great deal lately, mostly because I feel as though I am watching a parable about seeds unfold before my eyes. I am specifically thinking of the parable in Mark 4, in which Jesus compared the kingdom of God to a man who scattered seed, slept, and watched as the seed sprouted and grew into full grain. I am seeing this parable take on life at Epworth Children's Home, for every day many dedicated and loving staff scatter seed among the children. They scatter seeds of compassion and love, seeds of dignity, seeds of discipline, and seeds of encouragement.

I also try to scatter seed, but I have found it to be a more difficult task than I would have expected. After all, scattering seed requires a good bit of trust that the seed will indeed take root in the soil and flourish into a healthy plant. As I have learned more about the family circumstances and traumatic histories of some of these children, my grief has made it difficult to trust that small seeds of love can offer any comfort or guidance. This summer, I have often felt as though my tiny seeds will inevitably be choked and scorched by the varieties of trauma that drove these children into a children’s home. There is no way, I find myself thinking, that my word of encouragement or my short devotional can counteract the suffocating weight of trauma that some of these children carry.

But everyday I see evidence that the tiny seeds scattered by the Epworth staff do in fact grow: a high school senior leads a devotional on the importance of forgiveness, an Epworth graduate begins a Master’s program at USC, a young teenager rebukes her peers for bullying an unpopular girl, another young teenager makes it her goal to encourage other suffering children with the hope that she has found in Jesus. Everyday I am reminded that it is God who works the soil that is His children; it is God who accomplishes transformation. It is not about me or about the seeds that I scatter. Even when trauma and depression work like clouds to block all rays of hope and transformation, God works wonders and causes even the tiniest of seeds to sprout. I am truly learning from my experiences with these resilient children that with Christ there is always hope. And I have discovered this hope at Epworth not only in the nurturing staff; I have found this hope in the children themselves as they, despite their darkened pasts, become lights to a darkened world.

And so the kingdom of God grows, even before my very eyes, and I know not how. It often does not seem like the kids are responsive when their staff teaches them about forgiveness. And it often does not seem like they are terribly interested when they learn about God’s love for them. But little by little, the seeds grow. Traumatized children find healing in God. Little by little, they grow into people who choose to live peacefully and lovingly, shunning violence and hatred. Little by little, they choose to imitate Jesus. And little by little, they plant seeds of hope in others. They are becoming the man who scatters seed and waits to watch as the Lord works His wonders.

Great Pastors, Great Churches

2009-06-21T18:20:00.001-05:00

I’m reflecting today on something I’ve heard on a few occasions from some members of Mt. Zion UMC, the larger church in my placement. First, a little background to what I’ve been hearing. The pastor of Mt. Zion and Hebron UMCs, David Blackman, is a great pastor. He’s a gifted preacher, sociable with the congregations, focused on vision-setting and lay empowerment, and always talking about missions and outreach to the area. God has given him a vision of bigger and better things for Mt. Zion and Hebron, and he tries in everything he does to convey that vision to these congregations. He is deeply loved by both of these churches. But what I keep hearing from the parishioners is this: “We’re just going to enjoy David while we have him, because we know he’s better than just Mt. Zion.”

Given the UMC’s system of itinerancy for elders, the first half of this statement isn’t unusual, because the fact is that at some point David will move on to another appointment. What bothers me is the notion that David is too good of a pastor to be at Mt. Zion and will soon be “moving up” to a bigger church or a leadership position in the conference. This troubles me in a couple of ways. First, I don’t the way this implies that bigger churches are better churches – that bigger churches are the ones that make a difference while smaller churches are left to irrelevance. What bothers me even more is this notion that bigger churches deserve better pastors than smaller churches. Don’t all churches deserve great pastors? Shouldn’t Mt. Zion and Hebron be as deserving of a pastor like David Blackman as churches many times their size? All of these churches are equally part of the body of Christ, and I don’t believe that the quality of a church’s leadership should be determined by the number of members on the roll. I think particularly of smaller churches that are used to being led by retired ministers or student pastors, churches that are used to cycling through pastors instead of having pastors that invest in growing the church for an extended period of time. Does the itinerant system often sell short the vitality and potential of smaller churches and become a system where better and/or more experienced pastors just move up the pastoral ladder to bigger churches?

Another problem I have from hearing this is that smaller congregations may develop a sense that mediocrity is the best they can do, or that this attitude is already in place. I’m afraid that smaller congregations may feel that they’re just training grounds for new pastors or receptacles for the pastors that are left over after the great ones have been appointed. This attitude may not be deadly for a congregation, but I think it can certainly breed a feeling that the bar for small congregations is set lower than the bar for larger congregations. I refuse to believe that, and I refuse to believe that God is pleased with mediocrity. We have all been graciously saved to be part of God’s transformation of the world, a purpose that we cannot fathom and that is certainly beyond the vision of even our “greatest” pastors and leaders. We can see Paul in his letters encouraging the churches he planted to excel in showing love, to outdo one another in showing kindness, to move on to perfection regardless of their current size or situation. From the very beginning of the Church, God has been moving to push the Church to greater heights, to live abundantly rather than sheepishly. A call to follow Jesus is a call to greatness in faith, hope, and love, regardless of where we are. Are many of our churches now stuck in a culture of mediocrity that is hampering the proclamation of the Gospel in all corners of the world?

I honestly don’t know the answer to the questions I’ve posed, and I hope I’m wrong in my assessment of the ways small congregations perceive the quality of pastor they “deserve”. I also run the risk of being hypocritical, because I will admit that I have sometimes thought ahead to my first appointment, one that will probably be in a rural church or multi-point charge, and eagerly anticipated the time when I will move on to appointments at larger urban and suburban churches. I must fight the “small-church syndrome”, as well, and this in spite of my experience growing up in a wonderful, nurturing rural church. I pray that I can someday live out John Wesley’s prayer that God would send him to whomever God saw fit. I know that when I enter the itinerancy system, I will go not as one who is hired but as one who is sent, and I have to be ready to be sent to some places I would not volunteer to go to. God, however, has a history of doing great things with those situations, and I pray that I will have faith to follow God’s leading.

Summer in Downtown Grandy

2009-06-11T21:26:00.001-05:00

You could probably drive through Grandy, NC, and not really notice it. It's not that there's nothing here to see. It's just that in this part of the state, the first peninsula west of the Outer Banks, it would just seem like another one of the towns that run together on your way down the highway to the beach. I've heard the members of one of my churches, Mt. Zion UMC, use the phrase "downtown Grandy", and I think it's used with a bit of jest. "Downtown Grandy" is a few restaurants, a couple of gas stations, and a grocery store. The only thing you might notice is Mt. Zion and its parsonage (where I'm staying for the summer). At the heart of town sits one of my churches.

On the front of the Mt. Zion bulletin every Sunday is the phrase "The Cradle of North Carolina Methodism". It's one of several churches in the area founded in the 1770's when the Methodist movement first reached the American colonies. For a church to have that kind of longevity is really remarkable. Mt. Zion is a very welcoming congregation and seems to have a long history of being that way. Right now, there are around 100 in worship each Sunday, with some other ministries active during the week. It's growing a bit, but in my talks with the pastor (David Blackman), we've agreed that there is potential here for much more. I think that assesment can be made for a lot of United Methodist churches: doing alright, but not doing enough.

The other church in the charge, Hebron UMC, is a few miles south of Mt. Zion. I think it is also representative of many churches in the UMC. Weekly attendance at Hebron is between 10 and 15. It has had one profession of faith in my pastor's tenure (3 years). Last Sunday, it had its first fellowship event in several years. Hebron may well be short-listed for closure in the next few years, and the congregation seems resigned to that fate. They still care deeply about their church and are good, faithful people. Pastor David has been working to get them more involved in the community, but it seems to be an uphill battle. With a larger, more active church also part of the charge, Hebron often gets short-changed on the time David can devote to ministry with it.

I'm excited to be in a placement where I can be in ministry with two very different churches with very different challenges. I think I will learn a lot, and I know I have been blessed with the opportunity to serve in a wide variety of ways. This is a community that needs these churches to be beacons of God's light and love, and I pray that I will see that happen this summer and be a part of what God is doing in Grandy. If I'm sure of anything, it's that God is still at work here, and it's a blessing to see it. This will be fun.

Grace and peace to you.

Joy

2009-06-09T16:19:00.003-05:00

How precious is the joy of a six year old.

I am the intern at Epworth Children’s Home this summer, and I have the privilege of sharing in the often startling joy of displaced children. I say displaced because, for some reason or another, the children at this home are no longer living with their families. Some of the children here are now in the hands of the Department of Social Services, awaiting a foster placement or the age of 18. Other children only know Epworth as their temporary home, longing for the day when they can return to their families. In any case, around eighty children call Epworth their home; and I am blessed to share in their experience this summer.

While some may agree that I am indeed very blessed, others may question my sanity. After all, not everyone would call an outing with nine 4-6 year old boys a dream come true, especially when it involves gobs of candy, go-carts, bumper boats, and an arcade. While such an outing is not usually listed in the stereotypical job description of a “Duke Divinity Intern”, I was elated to find that even it can fit under the umbrella of ministry. In fact (somewhat to my surprise), my presence at the Fun Park did truly minister to the boys' young spirits; and as a result, the exhilarating outing deepened my understanding of ministry.

It all started with the joy of a six year old. Though the boys had already almost killed each other on the junior go-carts and soaked me with water on the bumper boats, they could think of nothing else than the intimidating Drop Zone that beckoned them from the center of the park. Those children who dare to ride the Drop Zone must be brave, for it is a ride that plunges one upward, only to let one free fall just enough for another upward plunge. The boys, however, were not afraid. And as they flew upward and fell downward, all of the adults watched from the bottom, amused by the looks of gleeful terror plastered on the boys' faces. And here is where my learning began, for at the close of the ride one particular child could not contain his excitement. “That was awesome!” was all I could hear from him for a solid two minutes, as he (literally) bounced from adult to adult savoring the smiles and laughter that his glee produced. As I watched him embrace the adult attention, I started to suspect that his excitement was more than a rush of adrenaline. While I am absolutely positive that the free falls of the Drop Zone filled him with energy and excitement, there was more to his joy than just exhilaration. Rather, he was surrounded by grown-ups who cared that he was happy. He knew, as we smiled and laughed at his uncontainable joy, that we cared. Someone else-a grown-up even!-was happy simply because he was happy. And that, for this displaced child, caused his cup to overflow.

How transparent is human nature in children! Aren’t we all like that, in some way or another? Don’t we all ache for love, to know that someone cares enough to rejoice when we are joyful? Don't we all especially long to know that our heavenly Father smiles on us simply because we are His? And so, I learned that though ministry with children may have (in my book) some incredible “benefits” (ahem, go-carts and free pizza), all types of ministry involve an endeavor to address the same need – the need to know and experience the exhilarating love of Christ.

Bailey, NC: Population 670; Apprx. 3 blocks wide (no exaggeration)

2009-06-01T11:37:00.003-05:00

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own.
And you know what you know.

-Oh, the Places You'll Go, Some dude named Dr. Seuss

For me, Bailey is the antithesis of this quote, it's arch nemesis, it's Kryptonite, etc, etc...Dr. Seuss: 0; Bailey: 1.

Long story short: I'm a 23 year old, single, black female Baptist, who's pretty much openly and unabashedly afraid of ministry. So naturally, I'm spending my summer in a majority white (is there a stronger word for "majority" I could use here? I think I might have seen two black people by a swing set, but that could have just been my imagination, or the heat), rural, Methodist Church in the middle of North Carolina.

(Hint: This is one of those things I've generally been warned not to do, along with taking candy from strangers and bungee jumping).

So, no, by most sane people standards, I don't have a brain in my head. And, it certainly doesn't feel as if I have any control of my feet. And, I certainly didn't wake up one day, eat a bagel, and think, 'gee, that's how I should spend my summer."

Don't worry, this won't be a love letter to Calvin, I do believe I have a choice in all of this (which actually, in some ways makes it much harder, because daily I have to choose into doing something that seems continually foolish and costly). But, I do believe God has been ordering my steps, and I do believe this is exactly where he wants me this summer.

Now, enough of the drama. Here's the good part.

I'm not alone.

Jesse, my co-intern (slash co-key-wielder, four square partner, trashcan specialist, etc, etc) is better than good company, he's already becoming a friend.

The people of Bailey won't leave me alone (in the best way possible). And, honestly, when I walked into that first country church on Sunday (there are several churches in the area) and was literally flocked by the kindest, most excited, most loving faces I'd ever seen in a church (no,not an exaggeration), I'd never felt more welcome--I told Jesse just as much.

It was startling. Bizarre. Straight out of some wacky, Seussesque book. Don't tell me God's left the Church when a black woman can feel so welcomed and affirmed in a white, rural church in the middle of "nowhere", NC.

I could go on and on (promise I won't make a habit out of long posts, but it's my first so, bygones). But, I'll just say, my first day was surprisingly a blast. A really odd, quirky, is-this-really-happening to me--so, okay, yeah I guess it is--sort of blast. But a blast nonetheless.

Random thoughts / observations:
-Bailey really isn't as small in the grand scheme of things as I thought (although, I did live in Iowa last year, so I could be biased). The town population is really small, but spatially so is the town. It's surrounded by a ton of other towns, and there's plenty of shopping centers, etc nearby. Not so bad.

-It's a peaceful, pretty area.

-I've already been invited to fire a gun and go hunting (oh, wowz, if you knew me and how much I've been going on about this, you'd know how big of a deal this was, lol)

-My pastor gives three different sermons at three different churches in one day, back to back to back. It was one of the most impressive (and exhausting things) things I've witnessed in a while.

-If I decide to live in Bailey instead of commuting (which I think I will), I'll be living in this small house called the Cornerstone. I just think that's cool :)

Okay, that's it for now.

God Bless,
Andrea aka Dre

What church is all about

2008-07-30T11:54:00.003-05:00

One night after youth group, I was asking the other youth leaders for advice on how to get the youth excited about the Scripture we were studying. We were studying the first 11 chapters of Genesis, which I think are some of the most exciting and rich texts in Scripture, but somehow I was failing to get them excited about it. As we talked about the youth, one father and I started to talk about the church in general. I told him that I thought one of the most beautiful things about this church is how welcoming they are. There is one member of the youth group who is of mixed race, and there are four children of mixed race in the children’s group. The church has welcomed, embraced, and made them part of their community. They are just as much a part of the youth and children’s groups as any members of those groups. This was possible because some members of the congregation are very committed to welcoming everyone into their community. There is, of course, still room for growth. The journey toward faithfulness is slow and requires patience, but this was a real glimpse of the Kingdom of God.

When I complimented the church for being so welcoming, the father said, “Well, I think that is what church is all about.” He is right. Church is a community of people who were once strangers but are now brothers and sisters. It is a community that is open to receiving the stranger and incorporating them into their community. It is a community that can welcome the stranger into its midst so that its members can learn from each another and grow together in their journey of discipleship.

Bodies

2008-07-30T11:48:00.005-05:00

My name is Diana, and I’m going to be starting my second year in the masters of divinity program in just a few short weeks. My placement this summer was in Peachland, NC, which is just off of highway 74 between Monroe and Rockingham in Anson County. Peachland is also just 33 miles from my Granny’s house in Mount Gilead, so I was fortunate enough to be able to live with her this summer.

My supervisor, pastor Tracy Carroll, told me early this summer that she thought the time leading up to one’s death was holy time. She is very committed to being with her parishioners when they are sick and dying. She takes the command to visit the sick in Matthew 25 very seriously, and she has learned to see Christ during those visits. This summer, I’ve thought about what she said as I have spent time with Granny. She was diagnosed with terminal lymphoma in March, and her oncologist said she might have six months to live. I have watched her body grow weaker all summer. The vivacious woman that was playing 18 holes with her girlfriends just two years ago is now more like a skeleton draped in its own skin. The hands that crocheted my baby blanket are now shaky and can barely pull her body out of a chair. Her belly that bore my mother is now pregnant with her swollen spleen that is filled with the cancer that is eating her body from the inside out. Her legs that pushed her son’s wheelchair all of his life are now too weak to walk on their own, and now she must ride in her own wheelchair. The color of her skin has been fading, as the smell of death has been growing stronger. I have been thinking a lot about bodies - weak bodies, bodies that die.

Bodies journey toward their death from the moment they emerge from the womb. They begin and end in radical vulnerability and weakness. Yet it was in a particular body that God redeemed God’s entire creation. When our Lord ‘came and dwelt among us,’ He took on a body, a weak body that would die. It seems foolish that God would take on such weakness, but God’s power is not what the world calls strong and powerful. When ‘God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise,’ God revealed that God’s power is what the world calls weakness. The power of God was revealed in a dead and crucified Savior, and Matthew 25 tells us that it is in encountering the weak that we will continue to see this God revealed. Pastor Tracy was right; the time of death, the time of extreme weakness for human bodies, is holy time because we see the character of God revealed in this extreme weakness.

Wisdom from Someone Who's "Been There"

2008-07-24T10:53:00.002-05:00

In my interview with April Brown*, an employee at Presbyterian Prison Ministry and a former inmate at RCCW, April shared many wise words with me. As a woman who has “been there,” April seems to be keenly aware of the challenges facing women who transition from prison to society. The following insights are ones that really stood out to me:

• Women need a sponsor when they are in prison – and not a sponsor who is in it for their own personal well-being.

• The women need to be empowered, not enabled – there’s a huge difference. When we are enabled, our appreciation turns into expectation.

• One really important reality women in prison need to be aware of is how much things cost now, not how much things cost when they went to prison.

• When we are in prison, we think – “If we are liked by staff, then we are.”

• Some women know that they can be safe, protected, and known in prison; these things are not always a reality for them in the real world.

April’s insights bring up several issues. Without a doubt, there is a great need for sponsors to mentor the women, to help them grapple with the reality of the world, and to empower them. But we have to be wary of the motivations of the volunteers. I have met many volunteers who seem to be trying to save their own souls through their good deeds toward women in prison. Many of them are not mindful of trying to minister to these women as whole people, and they actually stifle their development by worrying more about what makes them feel good rather than what is really best for the women.

Another major issue is that sometimes prison is indeed a safer environment than the real world for many of these women. They may feel much more protected in prison than they ever have in their own homes. Many of these women also struggle with self-esteem issues, and being incarcerated probably only makes these issues worse. They struggle to be known, even if it means manipulating others. Many of them have more status in prison culture, than they do in society. And thus their self-worth and existence is often based on being liked by each other and/or the prison staff. Certainly, we must help these women struggle with these deep and complex issues so that they can successfully transition to society and not end up back in prison. And we need the help of selfless volunteers who are truly concerned with the healing and wellness of the women to do so.

(*Name has been changed to protect confidentiality.)

a successful event

2008-07-15T10:20:00.002-05:00

For the past couple of weeks, Jordan (a Pathways intern with Partners in Caring) and I have been doing a few activities with a local organization called ACRA. Aids Community Residence Association provides housing opportunities for people living with AIDS, some of whom are also dealing with other disabilities. Most of our activities have been with the residents of one of ACRA’s houses in south Durham. One day we enjoyed packed lunches and conversation while listening to a guy in a kilt play “free” music. We also took them to the NC Museum of Art, with which I was surprisingly impressed. Both of these events gave us some time and space to get to know the residents a little better, and I’m always amazed when my eyes are opened to see how seemingly ordinary moments become those holy conversations we couldn’t have planned or orchestrated.

In our initial conversation, one man suggested having a cookout for the residents of all the ACRA houses. So, for the past few weeks Jordan and I spent time planning the 1st Annual ACRA Cookout. This involved everything from finding a good location to deciding which board games to bring. Jordan asked and received a generous donation from her church that helped make the event possible, for which we were very thankful. We also made the effort to try to invite others from the community, including clients we had encountered through Partners in Caring as well as various case workers, local ministers, etc.

For some reason, in the whole planning process I found myself becoming anxious about the event. It may be that planning events and other like administrative tasks aren’t my ‘cup of tea.’ Regardless, I began to worry about the success of the event: “Will we have a good turnout?” “Do we have enough ‘fun’ things for the attendees to do?” “Will we have enough food for everyone?” “Will the baked beans get cold?” You get my point. One morning, a couple of days before the event, I spent some time reflecting and praying about this anxiety. In that time I realized how my anxious thoughts were unwarranted. I was reminded that the purpose of the event was not to have some blowout cookout that looked like a success from an outsider’s perspective. I really begin to consider that its purpose was holy fellowship, to bring different people together that we might all experience love, friendship, and community. With that purpose in mind, I was able to rest, sensing that God would be present in our little cookout and that I could rest knowing that the “success” of the event was already promised.

Well, the cookout has now come and gone. We had a great time together: eating hamburgers and hotdogs, playing dominoes, and simply enjoying each other’s company. At times both before and during the event when my anxious thoughts begged to resurface, I tried to remind myself of our purpose and to rest in the knowledge that its outcome was promised. Too often I get carried away by my own definition of “success,” which undoubtedly takes me to islands of worry and despair: “Will the baked beans get cold?” It’s actually nice to be reminded that my ways aren’t always God’s ways, and thus to be pulled back to the place where my definitions are reoriented to God’s purposes: “I am with you always…”

APPEAL - Dallas, TX

2008-07-13T15:38:00.004-05:00

This past week has been a bit crazy on the ICEOL side of the placement. There was a lot of last minute things to do as we prepared to take APPEAL to Dallas, TX for the medical community there. For this conference we worked with a steering committee of just over 20 people, representing several different organizations around the Dallas area. On Thursday I travelled to Dallas with Lindley and Brandy, the other two field education students attatched to ICEOL. We were joined by the Betsy Randall David who collabroated with Dr. Payne (Director of ICEOL) and other APPEAL faculty to design activities for the various modules to improve the quality of the APPEAL training for adult learning. As soon as we arrived in Dallas we hurried over to the conference site at Methodist Charleton Medical Center to help finish up all the set-up for the next morning. Afterwards we went straight to Trece to join the faculty and a few of the Dallas folks to discuss last minute things and get to know one another. Since I was able to go and work APPEAL in Pittsburgh back in April this was a fun time to see the returning faculty and catch up with them.

The next morning we started bright and early by getting to the conference site at 7am and large cup of coffee in hand. The conference seem to go very well. We had about 160 participants who were all very actively participating and asking questions despite the large number of people. For me personally I had a bit more responsibility in terms of AV and playing the DVD segments the faculty chose to use during their presentations. We were at the conference site until about 6:30pm and then headed back to the hotel. Where we were staying at was about two blocks from where President Kennedy was assassinated so Lindley, Pastor Corey (one of the faculty) and I went exploring all of the sites near the hotel when we got back on Friday night. The Taste of Dallas was also going on this weekend in the same general area so we walked around a bit in there. Corey test drove the new Hyundai Genesis, we played Wii, recorded a cheer for the USA Olympic team, tried free samples of Starbucks and had some really good conversation over dinner about chaplaincy, care at the end of life and churches. It all started over again the next morning at 7:30am and ending at 1pm with the module on spirituality. I got back to Durham around midnight and am gearing up to finish out the last couple weeks of field ed.

Here are a few pics:

As part of the Spirituality module, Corey has all the participants stand and sing "Soon and Very Soon"

This was my post for the entire conference to run AV stuff for faculty

Cloud of Witnesses

2008-07-08T22:18:00.004-05:00

This morning I sat in a memorial service at the Unicorn Bereavement Center (part of Duke Hospice) along with the other hospice chaplains, various staff and a few volunteers. We sat in a circle as one of the bereavement counselors lit a candle and led the service. A list of the names of those who had died in the past month were read aloud. There were about 50-60 names read during the time and I sat pondering the names as each was read. Afterwards there was time for those who had gathered to share stories and memories about those who had passed, so there were tears and laughter shared in that space.

Of the 50-60 names read this morning I was amazed at the number of names that I knew in varying degrees. There were countless names I recognized from the morning ritual of checking my voicemail to hear the messages that nurses, social workers, chaplains, ect left for one another to stay in contact with one another about patients so they could care for patients in a holistic way. Five more of the names read aloud had passed through my life, and even if for a brief moment touched my life by being privileged to be invited by them to share in their life. These names were of patients I had met during my time with hospice when I was shadowing various hospice staff. Although I met them and visited with them for one time I remembered my time spent with each of them.

There was also one name that I anticipated hearing as they went down the list. My patient Esther* that I have mentioned before passed away a couple weeks ago. Esther* was one of my "stable" patients who had been on hospice care for over a year and so her death was bit unexpected because she didn't seem to be what we call "actively dying." On a Thursday afternoon I visited with her and stayed about 40 minutes. During our time together she continued to show strong faith and peace in God that she was ready to go whenever He was ready to take her, but peaceful if her time wasn't yet. Esther* had enjoyed Jodi singing for her when I came with her to meet Esther* for the first time and so I offered to sing to her while I was there. When asked her favorite hymn she said anything would be fine. In trying to pick older hymns she may be familiar with I chose Amazing Grace and It Is Well. As I sang the words Esther* tried to sing along quietly when she knew the words, and when she felt her singing voice failing her she joined me by humming along as I sang. Because her eyes didn't let her read much anymore I offered to read some scriptures to her, and we finally picked the Beatitudes. When I asked Esther* what her favorite passage of scripture was she told me it was the story of Jesus calming the storm. We then had a great conversation about how God comes to us and calms the storms in our lives, and I felt that she was also speaking of the peace God continued to give her in her own illness. I also felt a connection back to the hymn we sang earlier in the visit, It It Well, which speaks of peace, being well, in your soul written by a man who lost his family on a boat in a storm, and wrote the words of the song when he passed through that exact spot. Before I left that day Esther* wanted to tell me of a dream she had. She dreamt that a man was calling her name and it was so real that she got out of bed and walked into the living room to look out the windows and see where the voice was coming from. She did not recognize the voice, but was also not disturbed by this experience. That was Thursday afternoon.

The following Wednesday morning I was checking my voicemail and heard the report of her time of death the day before. There are stories of many people seeing and hearing those that have passed on before them coming to make the end of the journey with them. I witnessed this with my own father in the last weeks of his life where he saw his father, who died way before I was born, and his mother, who died when I was about 13 years old, and said they had been there with him and talked to him. At the time I thought he delirious from pain meds or the cancer, and only later did I find out that this experience is not uncommon for those at the end of life, no matter their faith background. Perhaps Esther* wasn't dreaming, we'll never know. I can't help but think how peaceful it is to think that maybe we're not alone when we're at the end of life and those who have made that final journey before are there to accompany us on our journey. Maybe there is something to say theologically about the saints that pass on before us and the great cloud of witnesses that continues to surround us all.

*name changed for confidentiality

Living Out Prayer

2008-07-07T12:00:00.003-05:00

I was caught by surprise when Chaplain Boykin asked me to lead a session on prayer. It wasn’t that his expectation was out of the ordinary, but I simply did not know what I would say. I felt very inadequate leading a session on prayer, knowing that I struggle with my own prayer life. In fact, in order to be truly honest I must admit that I don’t pray very often, especially on my own. I feel more comfortable praying in worship services than I do spending time at home in prayer. I often find my mind drifting, wondering how I really should pray. I stop myself and ask if I really think God interacts with the world in that specific way. I wonder why we ask God for things that are contrary to the nature of life. I wonder why we ask God to change things that happen because of bad decisions we make. I even wonder why we sometimes blame God for death or tragedy. I get really upset when I hear someone say that God “protected” their loved one from dying from car wreck or plane crash or a natural disaster when there are many other people who died from that same tragedy. Did God not protect the people who died? Did the ones who died or their families not pray hard enough? I don’t think so. Our world is a tragic place. Bad things happen, and we all eventually die. The only thing I feel like I can say with certainty is that God suffers with us through the mess.

Since my view of God and prayer has changed, I have a lot of head knowledge about what I think, but I have not really internalized or practiced prayer in a way that incorporates my theology. So this assignment turned out to be an opportunity for me to really wrestle with my theology of prayer. I had the chance to talk with Chaplain Arthur, a former chaplain at RCCW, about her thoughts. She reminded me that prayer is not necessary about my theology but it’s about my relationship with God. I don’t have to understand God to pray. She also reminded me of the importance of being quiet and asking God to speak to me.

I also read through two books on prayer. Joyce Rupp in her book entitled Prayer reminded me that we must have faith when we pray “because we cannot prove much about prayer” (10). It was comforting to hear her say that some of us are drawn to God not by “obvious passion” but by “an unnamable restlessness or a perpetual searching” (23). While I may have been passionately drawn to God before, I find that my unsettled questioning and searching is what brings me to God now. Rupp also reminded me that, just like our human relationships, our relationship with God becomes more about faithfulness instead of feelings when we grow and mature. She suggests that we should become aware of the sacred moments in our everyday existence.

Daniel Wolpert, in his Creating a Life with God: The Call of Ancient Prayer Practices, reminded me that prayer is not just about a few isolated moments in our day but it is about creating a life with God and “enabling the love of God to permeate all that we do” (16). I was reminded of the practices of solitude and silence, lectio divina, the Jesus prayer, creativity (writing, decorating, cooking, gardening, etc.), journaling, body prayer, and praying in nature. After reading his book I was reminded that I can pray the prayers that I use in worship services at home when I cannot find the words to pray. I can pray through the Psalms or pray while I’m on a walk or while I tend to the flowers and herbs on my porch. I can pray as I cook or as I write or as I do other rituals. So while my mind has been expanded as to what prayer is, I find that I have not connected these things I have learned to my life. Maybe I have even been praying more than I thought. I feel refreshed from what I have gleaned through this opportunity, and I feel challenged to let what I know truly make a difference in how I live. I hope that I can learn how to live out prayer and be more fully aware of all the different ways I'm already praying.

Full Citations for these two books:

Joyce Rupp, Prayer. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2008.
Daniel Wolpert, Creating a Life with God: The Call of Ancient Prayer Practices. Nashville: Upper Room Books, 2003.

Environment, Human Agency, or God's Plan?

2008-07-04T08:00:00.000-05:00

During my orientation with the North Carolina Division of Prisons, Chaplain Betty Brown, Director of Chaplaincy Services, gave me a book to read called The Female Offender: Girls Women and Crime by Meda Chesney-Lind. Let me share some of what I learned from the first two chapters:

In 1991…

• 32% of women in prison had been abused either physically or sexually before the age of 18, often by a family member or intimate acquaintance. (4)

• 58% grew up in homes without both parents presence and in 34% of these homes the adults abused alcohol and drugs. (4)

• 1 out of 5 spent time in foster care. (4-5)

• 43% by adulthood had been victims of sexual or physical violence (by spouses, boyfriends, and friends). (5)

• In 1990, 61.2% of girls in the juvenile justice system had experienced physical abuse. Reporting the abuse caused no change or made it worse. (26)

• “…Many young women are running away from profound sexual victimization at home, and once on the streets, are forced into crime to survive.” (27)

Meda Chesney-Lind, wanting to make her point clear, states, “To say that a person has had a set of experiences (even very violent ones) is not to reduce that person to a mindless pawn of personal history, but rather to fully illuminate the context within which that person moves and makes ‘choices’.” (30-31)

Chesney-Lind’s insights into the context of female offenders brings about a very important question: how much do we attribute crime to the situation in which these women find themselves and how much do we attribute crime to their personal agency or choices? People who work in the prison system have varying opinions, but I think we must wrestle with both the women’s life situations and their agency and choices. Which one has a greater impact on crime? I really don’t know. But I do think that as Christians, we must work to bring about healing and change within situations of abuse, violence, and poverty, and at the same time, we must examine the role of human agency and sinfulness. When I say “sinfulness,” I am not only alluding to acts of crime but also to our acts of neglect that have led to abuse, violence, and poverty.

At the Raleigh Correctional Center for Women, I have discovered that the theology of many of the women plays a major role in how they process their crime. Time after time I have heard women say that God brought them to prison for a reason, to teach them a lesson, to allow them to minister to other women, etc. While I don’t doubt their ability to minister to one another, I have to wonder what role responsibility for one’s actions plays when they believe that God micromanages their every move, even their crime, for reason or to teach them a lesson. It often seems that some of these women release their own responsibility by attributing their crime to God’s plan. What kind of theology has allowed for this thinking? What is my role as a chaplain in responding to women who voice this theology? I’m trying to listen to their stories before I talk too much. And at the same time, I gently offer a different perspective, mostly through probing questions instead of declarations of my belief. As I continue to be present, I will keep pondering the roles of one’s environment, one’s agency, and one’s theology in the act of crime.

(Meda Chesney-Lind, The Female Offender: Girls, Women, and Crime. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 1997)

Voices of the Daughters of God

2008-07-02T12:00:00.002-05:00

It has long been a dream of mine to read the stories of outcast women in scripture with outcast women in our society to see what we could learn together. I was first introduced to difficult texts that portrayed the abuse of women at Campbell University by my Old Testament professor, Dr. Kathy Lopez. As we read Phyllis Trible’s Texts of Terror, my eyes were opened to the painful parts of our scripture. Dr. Portier-Young, Old Testament professor at Duke Divinity School, challenged to think about how I could read these texts with marginalized people in our society. She introduced me to Bob Ekblad’s Reading the Bible with the Damned, through which I was summoned to value biblical interpretation by people from all areas of society. When I found out that I had been placed at the Raleigh Correctional Center for Women for the summer, I eagerly hoped I would be able to read these texts with these imprisoned women. My supervisor, Rev. Proctor, graciously agreed to help me make it happen. On June 9, I started an eight week study (that I am writing as we go) called “The God who sees and hears us is God with us: Reflections on Marginalized Women in Scripture.” We have studied the stories of Hagar, Jepthah’s daughter and the mourning women, and Tamar. In the weeks to come, we will reflect on the unnamed concubine, the Samaritan woman at the well, the woman caught in adultery, the bent over woman, and the woman who anointed Jesus. We will pause to listen to the stories of these women and recover their voices since many of them have been silenced by the text. We will seek to discover how God saw them, heard them, and was present with them in the midst of their suffering, abuse, and marginalization.

From the very beginning of this study, we covenanted together to stay on task in order to be respectful of the time we have together; to hold all of our conversations in confidence; to treat one another with respect, gentleness, and loving care; and to honor all voices and perspectives by withholding judgment. We have sought to make our group a safe space for all, and I think we have succeeded in doing so. Surprisingly, we have even stayed on topic and not ventured into the land of gossip, which happens frequently in many of the Bible studies at the prison. The women have been interested in the text and how it connects to their lives. They were open on the first day to talk about the power of human actions in relationship to the story of Hagar. During the second session, the discussion of how Jepthah’s unfaithful vow led to the sacrifice of his daughter led to the women sharing about how the church has helped to perpetuate their abuse, instead of stopping it. The third week when we talked about the rape of Tamar by her very own brother, the women shared their personal stories of abuse and rape and how they could relate to Tamar. One woman told us of how she just barely avoided being raped by hiding in a closet. Like I had imagined, these texts brought up painful experiences for these women in their own lives. When I asked what they thought about Absalom killing Amnon for raping their sister Tamar, one woman told me she thought Amnon got what he deserved and that people like him should be killed. I asked her if she thought that we should go get everyone who had ever raped anyone right now and take them all down to Central Prison and execute them. She hesitated to answer, but you could tell she probably didn’t think it was a bad idea. I just sat there in silence for awhile, not really knowing how to respond. When I finally spoke, I told her that I meant what I had said at the very beginning of the Bible study – that we would really honor everyone’s voice. The women laughed after hearing my response. I think they laughed because they saw me not knowing how to respond and because they were relieved and maybe even surprised that I really meant that we would honor everyone’s voice. I think they also laughed because of the irony of the situation. Here they are sitting in prison, talking about how people should be executed for their crimes. I did tell this woman that while I thought that abusers should be punished, I did not think they should be executed.

Another woman spoke up and asked me what did I think would be sufficient punishment. She told me that her abuse had greatly affected her whole life, and while she admitted that she knows we shouldn’t kill people, she wasn’t ready to “go there” yet. Her pain is still too overwhelming. I told her that I honored her voice and the pain from which she spoke but that I didn’t think that continuing the cycle of violence was the answer. Not all of the women agreed with the perspectives of these two women. When one woman (the same one who said Amnon got what he deserved) voiced that she thought God allowed her to be raped and that she even deserved it because of the situation she put herself in, another woman spoke up and told her that nothing she could ever do would make her deserve to be raped. I told her that it was one thing to speak of how God helps you through difficult situations but that God did not allow her to be raped. We talked again about the messes humans make because of the actions that they choose. Indeed, this woman’s thought that God would allow her to be raped is evidence of the ways we as the church have read scripture unfaithfully and perpetuated the cycle of abuse.

I am grateful that in our study we could create a space where these women could speak honestly to one another and affirm God’s love and care for each of them and God’s desire for them to be whole. It is my hope that through our study, we will continue learn something about God’s faithful presence with us in every season of our lives, even those seasons of devastation, loneliness, and pain. It is my desire that through the recovering of the voices of women in scripture, these women will continue to discover their value and worth as daughters of God.

Embodying the Gospel within the Prison Walls

2008-07-02T08:00:00.004-05:00

Maybe it was a mix of naiveté and wishful thinking or just plain ignorance that I thought I would find the women at the prison to be progressive thinkers, ready to change the society around them, at least those circumstances that played a role in the choice they made that led them to prison. I was so incredibly mistaken. The women at Raleigh Correctional Center for Women have developed a truly fundamentalist culture, in which they believe that if they really trust in God this time then God will protect them and everything will be okay. If they pray and trust “hard enough,” they will even be able to open their own businesses because for them, God shows this kind of favor to God’s people. I have also found the women to be, not only manipulative, but also arrogant and demanding. They feel as if you “owe them” because of all of the time they have spent in prison. I understand that they would have trust issues, but I guess I expected to receive a little more respect. I have been gently reminded on a few occasions that there is a reason why these women are in prison.

I had several disappointing interactions while trying to prepare for the worship service I led on June 15. The chaplain’s clerk got angry with me because I did my own program. Even though she knew I did it because the head chaplain asked me to do so, she told me that she would never do another program for them. The gospel choir was very resistant to help me with songs I wanted them to sing for the service. They were angry that I wanted them to sing a certain version of the song “Nobody Knows” – they called it her version, as if I had written the song. Only four out of the eight or nine women even showed up on Sunday to sing. So in my first four weeks of being at the prison, I found myself in a situation where I could not often identify with the spiritual experiences of the women, and I was also surrounded by a mix of other issues, which to no small degree include class and race issues. I was frustrated and disappointed and not quite sure how these women would respond to my sermon.

To my surprise, the worship service that I led went beautifully. The women really enjoyed the musicians I brought with me, and they were responsive and engaged with the sermon. Afterwards I had many women come up and offer affirmation to me. One woman told me that she had gotten some new things from my sermon that she needed to think about and process. And word travels fast on the prison grounds. A small group of women came to the service, but before I knew it, women all over came up to me and told me that they had heard that I did a good job. Even the woman in the gospel choir who had the worst attitude with me told me that she heard I did a wonderful job and that I was going to make a great preacher. Her attitude had changed. I felt as if many of the women saw me differently.

I have no other words to describe this change other than I think I had to “prove” something to these women before they would accept me as a chaplain. I’m not sure what that something was or if it was the same thing for every woman. It does make sense however that they would not trust or respect me until they had a reason to do so. Maybe that worship service was the first opportunity they had to see me as a pastor, as someone who cared, as someone who declared that God loves them and is with them in the midst of all of the seasons of their lives. I know that they couldn’t have agreed with all of the theology that I communicated through the sermon, but I think they did receive the message of God’s love. Perhaps, there is something to be said about the pastoral authority that comes from proclaiming God’s word. Or maybe it’s much more than that. Maybe it’s about embodying the gospel with your whole being so that the way you relate to others proclaims God’s love. Perhaps, the women came to trust me because I revealed my care for them as God’s children. And maybe that’s why my theology didn’t threaten them. Instead, they seemed to seriously consider how what they heard affected their faith.

I also think it mattered that I didn’t pretend to have all the answers. I admitted in the sermon what troubled me and what I didn’t understand about the text. I even uttered the words – “I do not know.” I invited them to think with me about the text instead of telling them one interpretation was the only possible interpretation. For whatever reason, I’ve always thought that my painful honesty in my preaching, teaching, and conversation was a negative aspect to who I am as a minister. I cannot even try to hide my true feelings because my facial expressions always take over and communicate what I don’t always want to admit. Ask anyone who knows me well, and they will tell you that you can usually tell what I’m thinking by just simply looking at me. Many of the women at RCCW have already experienced my confusion through my facial expressions in conversation and Bible studies. They heard it through my spoken words in my sermon. I now see that perhaps this honesty is also a part of my embodiment of the gospel. Sometimes the truth is painful, and Christ calls us to speak the truth in love, not to cover it up in order for everyone to “feel good.” Trying to reckon with our call as the body of Christ is hardly ever easy, and maybe it it’s not a bad thing to embody that confusion and restlessness that often comes after hearing Jesus’ words to come and follow him.

Breaking the Cycle of Domestic Violence

2008-07-01T12:54:00.002-05:00

The first week of my field education with the Department of Chaplaincy Services at the Division of Prisons I attended the North Carolina Coalition Against Domestic Violence Biennial Conference with Chaplain Betty Brown. I was privileged to listen in on conversations between workers from the Department of Social Services, Child Protective Services, the Division of Mental Health, and various domestic violence programs and shelters. The most interesting workshop that I attended was entitled “Domestic Violence and Children: Survival and Transcendence” led by Kit Gruelle and Lisa Floyd. Kit is a domestic violence survivor and an advocate for battered women and children. As the conference manual states, Lisa’s “voice and experience of calling 911 as a 6 year old girl, one night many years ago (the Lisa tape), has been used since then to educate thousands of people about domestic violence and the impact on children.” Listening to Lisa call 911 on this particularly horrible night was a heart-wrenching experience. While listening to her stepfather beat her mother, she continually used the word “please” when asking the dispatcher to send the police or hold on a minute and repeatedly voiced her concern for her “very delicate” baby brother and her little sister.

Several years ago, Kit was working with the police department and asked someone, “I wonder what this little girl is doing now. I wonder if we could find her and see how she’s doing.” The police were able to locate Lisa, and Kit’s knock on Lisa’s door was the beginning of a very meaningful friendship. Kit discovered that Lisa was in an abusive relationship of her own, but since they have met, Kit has helped Lisa walk through the process of ending that relationship. Lisa says that when she got pregnant with her second child something in her just snapped, and she knew she had to get out because she did not want to end up like her mother.

Lisa had no idea that her tape was being used to educate people about the effects of domestic violence on children. She only vaguely remembers signing away her rights to this tape, and no one ever told her why exactly they wanted it. Now as a twenty four year old woman, she still cannot listen to the tape because of all the pain she fears would surface. She wonders why they picked this particular tape since she called the police hundreds of times. Through her tears, she shared with us that her mother had not changed, that her older brother was in jail, that her sister was getting into trouble, and that she feared for the future of her little brother. She pleaded with the Child Protective Service (CPS) workers in the room to always be mindful of the child victims of domestic violence. The reality of her life and the lives of her siblings is a great testimony to the effects of domestic violence on children. Lisa told us that there were twenty-three documented cases of CPS coming to her house and that she nor her siblings were ever taken away from her mom. She said that she wishes she had been. Although she admitted that she would not have wanted to leave her mom initially, she said that in the end it would have been a better situation. She challenged us to always remember the children when dealing with domestic violence because they have no control or power to change their situation.

Someone asked Lisa if the church ever played a role in helping her family with domestic violence issues. She said that she did not believe in God, but she knew of many people who did have faith and that their faith helped them “get through it.” I have to wonder if they meant they “got through it” by themselves with a silent response from the church. What have we done as Christians to help victims of domestic violence and even their abusers? Have we contributed to the problem with unfaithful readings of scripture? Have we ignored the signs and pretended as if nothing was wrong? How do we learn to speak honestly about the presence of domestic violence in the families who sit in our pews? And what can we do to minister to the abusers? I heard many of the groups at the conference speak very strongly about locking abusers up. But even if they are imprisoned, they will eventually get out. And, as Christians, locking people up cannot be the solution for us. How will we help to bring about change in the lives of all who are caught up in the cycle of domestic violence? How will share God’s love with them all, even the abusers?

Hope Center

2008-07-01T12:00:00.012-05:00

I thought you might enjoy seeing pictures of where chaplaincy takes place at RCCW...

Entrance to the Hope Center

Sculpture by a family member of a former chaplain & The Chaplains' Office

My favorite part of the office decor

The Worship Space

The Hope Community Library

Prison Chaplaincy

2008-07-01T10:24:00.014-05:00

This summer I have had the wonderful privilege of being placed with the Division of Prisons through the Nort h Carolina Department of Correction. My initial contact was through Chaplain Betty Brown, Director of Chaplaincy Services, and after hearing about my particular passions and interests in ministry, Chaplain Brown placed me at the Raleigh Correctional Center for Women (RCCW).

RCCW

Chaplaincy services at RCCW are provided by Presb yterian Prison Ministry (PPM) in a building on the prison grounds called the Hope Center for Worship and Education (donated by White Memorial Presbyterian Church in 2001). The executive director of PPM is Rev. Caroline Craig Proctor. Rev. Proctor is my direct supervisor, and I have found her to be a wise, insightful, and caring minister. My supervision time with her has been one of my favorite parts of my field education. Chaplain Nathaniel Boykin is the primary chaplain on the grounds at RCCW, and he has a deep care for the women there. He has been very generous in sharing his wisdom with me this summer and helping to make my time at the prison meaningful.

Rev. Caroline Craig Proctor

Chaplain Nathaniel Boykin and his wife, Gwen

For quite a while now, I have felt called into the ministry of chaplaincy, but until this past year, I had never considered prison chaplaincy. For whatever reason, I had not heard much about this type of ministry. And while I was attuned to the needs of the hungry, thirsty, naked, and sick people that Jesus spoke of in Matthew 25, I often overlooked the part that says "I was in prison and you visited me." What is interesting is that many of the homeless people that I met last summer during my field education with HomeStar Fellowship were people who had not successfully transitioned from prison to society. We as the church must not overlook prisoners. We must embrace and care for least of these as we would embrace and care for Jesus. I am grateful for the opportunity to explore the possibility of prison ministry being a part of my call to chaplaincy.

a much-needed distraction

2008-06-30T10:42:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning's sermon text was from Genesis, the story of Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac. My supervisor preached a wonderful sermon about God not just being warm and fuzzy, but demanding and awesome. It was a convicting sermon, but I could still sense that I was letting myself get in the way too much. I prayed during the early service, and asked God to send me a distraction, something to get my mind off of myself. I asked God for an opportunity that would shed some light on what it means to be a true servant of Christ because I was feeling irritable and selfish.

I was by myself in the office in between services, and a member of the church, looking confused, walked past and pointed into the office. She was talking to someone else, and I soon saw who it was. Into the pastor's office walked a young woman from Kryzykstan, whom I will call Nadia in this entry. It is a Russian-speaking country close to the Chinese border. She needed help, and so I asked her to sit down and tell me her story.

Nadia began to tell me about her journey to the United States this summer. She and her younger sister came here to work and see the States, but they have experienced something very disheartening instead. The woman who made their arrangements is mistreating them, so much, that Nadia and her sister feel they have to leave the Outer Banks, maybe even the country. They were told that they would have private living arrangements for the summer. Upon their arrival, the woman showed them what she meant by this. Nadia and her sister have been crammed into one tiny room, with another roommate. At night, they are kept awake as they feel bed bugs eat away at them. They are to use this same space as their living area, and for entertainment, they have a television set that does not work. And, it's not as if these ladies are staying for free. They are being charged monthly for their stay.

This same woman decided that because gas prices had gone up, that she would no longer drive the girls into work anymore, that they could take a taxi. They are living on the other side of the Wright Memorial Bridge, and working in Duck. Taxi rides are expensive and hard to come by in this part of the country, and the bridge goes over an entire sound, not a tiny creek. Everywhere the girls have gone for help, it seems that this woman was two steps in front of them, telling other employers that she was giving them plenty of hours and nice accommodations. The fast food establishment across the street from the church has been letting Nadia and her sister work, in spite of their original employer's efforts. The manager at this fast food restaurant told the girls that the woman with whom they are living has a reputation for being cruel to the exchange students who come and live with her. Nadia met a friend, who early yesterday morning, pointed across the street at the church and told her that "they help people there."

So there Nadia was, sitting in the office, asking for a way to get to the bus station in Norfolk, VA on Wednesday morning so she and her sister could travel to New York City, and eventually, home. She also needed a ride to Wal-Mart, to buy a temporary phone so that she would be able to contact her parents. I knew that Duck UMC had helped other exchange students get to the bus station before, so I told Nadia that we would wait until the pastor returned to the office to work something out. When my supervisor arrived, he was troubled by the situation and told Nadia that we would have things set up for her this (Monday) morning. Having misunderstood Nadia, he handed her a $20 bill to help her buy a phone. Nadia put the money back into his hand and explained that she could not honestly take his money, because it was transportation that she needed. Stunned, he looked over at me and said, "Can you take Nadia to get her phone after the late service?" I agreed, while years of training circled in my head, reminding me not to talk to strangers, not to be alone with them, to be suspicious of those who ask for help because they always want something more.

After the 10am service, Nadia and I departed on our journey to Wal-Mart. She bought her phone and 240 minutes for the rest of the summer so that she could contact her parents. I asked her if she wanted to get lunch, and she mentioned that she had found a Chinese place across the street and loved eating there because it reminded her of home. She allowed me to buy her lunch, and it really was an honor. After a few quiet moments of eating our food, Nadia looked up at me and asked, "Why is it that people in that building are people who help others?" Nadia had no experience of Christianity, and so we sat for awhile and talked about what it means to be a Christian, what it means to see people as human and not as cheap labor. We drove back to the fast food place and sat in the parking lot programming her phone. I gave her my number and told her to call me if she and her sister wanted to do something fun and relaxing for a change.

I was thrilled when Nadia gave me a call. I also had great news. My supervisor had agreed to let me drive Nadia and her sister to Norfolk. We decided to go see a movie that would make us laugh. Before the movie began, Nadia's younger sister showed me her leg that was covered in bites from the bed bugs. I felt what some might call a righteous anger at that point. We went for more Chinese food after the movie, and the sisters told me more about themselves. Nadia is majoring in business administration, and her younger sister is majoring in law. Here, they are not treated as humans because they have accents and at times, broken English. They are called lazy for not being able to be ten places at once. Nadia asked why I am going into ministry. I was then able to explain what it means to be called to do something.

The sisters will be staying with me Tuesday night and then we will drive to Norfolk together. I'm looking forward to it. What is troubling about this situation is that I know some people think that too much help is being provided for these two girls. Questions like, "What if every student in trouble depends on the church for help?" are being asked. How sad. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the church was a place to depend on? Wouldn't it be great if the church always practiced radical hospitality? Isn't that what we are called to do as Christians? I am thankful for the support of my supervisor and my family in Virginia as I help Nadia and her sister. I am even more grateful that God placed these two wonderful people in my life, so that I could be distracted--distracted from myself and my dwelling on things I cannot change. Nadia and her sister have provided me with more than I could ever pay them back for. Praise God.

letting God preach

2008-06-26T11:02:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was a rough day. No personal details are coming up, so no worries. But it was rough. I was dealing with sadness, anger, betrayal, guilt...you name it. On top of everything, I had to preach at the Wednesday night service here at Duck UMC. My text was Matthew 20:1-16, the parable of the workers in the vineyard. How appropriate. I didn't know how I was going to preach. So, I decided that I wouldn't. I told God early on in the day that if He didn't preach, no one was going to hear anything.

It was probably the best sermon that has ever come out of my mouth. Go figure. I had a written sermon in front of me; I had things to say just in case I needed them, and I think I probably said a lot of those things. But I was honest. I told the congregation that I didn't want to preach, that I was identifying with the laborers at the beginning of the day who were frustrated by the eleventh-hour workers receiving the same pay. By the end of the sermon, God had told these people, by way of my mouth, about the beauty that is free grace. By the end of the sermon, I identified with a new character in the story, the eleventh-hour worker. And the congregation was there with me. It was a beautiful evening, where the people gathered in that room all realized just how undeserving we are of the grace given by God, that we are all eleventh-hour workers. And for those who didn't identify with the eleventh-hour worker, they were given a message about the joy of working for God, that doing the work of the kingdom is part of the grace received, that it is cause to rejoice.

I learned a few things yesterday. For one, I learned a little about how to preach. Letting God do it is a great idea. Preparation is important; I would not approach the pulpit not having carefully examined the text, but I will now always leave room for the Spirit to move. It can say more than I could ever hope to say. I also learned how to preach on a really difficult day. My father is a minister, and it always baffled me that after a terrible, tragic Saturday night, he was able to preach. I learned that having a challenging day personally was no reason to approach the pulpit as if it were a couch in a psychiatrist's office. I prayed fervently that that would not happen, and it didn't. I also learned that being vulnerable is important. Standing in front of others to preach while admitting to being a broken human being is powerful. People respond to that kind of honesty, and I thank God for my personal trials because of that.

Time has gone by incredibly fast this summer. It is hard to believe that in five weeks, I will no longer be at this church (I am staying an extra week because I attended a UMC conference in May). This has been a transformative time, one that I wouldn't trade for anything.

Mime Communion

2008-06-10T10:45:00.001-05:00

This is my first blog, so before I jump into my story, I'll give a little background about my placement this year. I am serving at Duck United Methodist Church, in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. It is a beautiful placement, right on the beach. I haven't seen too much of the beach because I am constantly on the go here. I'm preaching at least every other week, serving as a liturgist, preparing and leading a course on Methodism, training members to lead Wesleyan Class Meetings, directing and leading music for Vacation Bible School, and working on a youth service project. Throw in the thirty-seven dinners I'm having with members of the congregation along with regular visitation and 9-5 office hours, and there's not much time left for the beach. It sounds like a lot, but I'm really having a fabulous time. The people here are wonderful and eager to be active in their congregation- something that seems a bit of a novelty these days in churches. This summer has already been transformative and I expect that it will only continue to be so.

This past Sunday, The Rev. Dr. Laura Early visited Duck UMC. She started All God's Children UMC, in Aulander, NC. She also does mime communion. I'll make a confession, and it's the same one I made to Dr. Early- I have never liked mime communion, or clown communion, its close relative. It has always seemed a bit tacky and while I believe there is joy to be found in the Eucharist, it has always almost made a joke out of it. Dr. Early's response surprised me. She told me that clown or mime communion, poorly done, made her want to vomit. Well, all right. I prayed for an open mind and to not come to the service with any sort of bias against this type of communion. Dr. Early's spirit really made that quite easy.

I was not surprised to find myself completely in awe of this practice of mime communion. There was no painted face, no silly gimmicks, no words. The story was told. The elements were consecrated. The difference was that people had to stretch their thinking, use other senses to be involved in the Eucharistic service. It was absolutely beautiful.

Did I mention that she preached? Boy, did she preach. It was so good to have a positive example of a female clergy person. The majority of experiences I've had have been with women who were so focused on being allowed to preach, that they lost the gospel somewhere in the middle. Dr. Early never tried to defend anything about herself. She preached the gospel, and she did so dynamically and with grace. I encourage you to check out what goes on at All God's Children UMC in Aulander. It is a beautiful ministry. I can't for the life of me find a link to the church's website, but this article pretty much sums up a few of the things that go on there:

http://www.erskine.edu/news/early.2.2.99.html

Dr. Early's visit and one of the pastor's (Rev. Ray Wittman) recent sermons have the congregation shifting in their pews, uncomfortable with doing the same old thing, and ready for church to be a lifestyle, not just a Sunday obligation. I can't wait to see what happens!

forgiven...forgiver

2008-06-09T15:02:00.003-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to participate in Partner in Caring’s PETS program. PETS is a three-level training program that educates and prepares people who are HIV positive to be peer mentors to people who have been diagnosed with HIV. Level two and three of the program consists of a week long retreat that provides the students with information related to HIV/AIDS, other STI’s, and substance abuse, and it trains them to utilize various practical tools while mentoring.

My week at the PETS retreat proved to be a very positive experience. It was the first time that I have taken the opportunity to spend an extended period of time with people who are dealing with this illness. I can’t get over how radically open and hospitable this group of people was. There have been few occasions where I have felt such genuine community and fellowship in the midst of a diverse group of people. I felt welcomed from the start and knew it was a safe place where I could let my guard down and just love people (and do the electric slide). And that has been my challenge thus far when I’m confronted with the gracious opportunity of relationship with those who are often overlooked: to suspend all obstacles and seek to love…but not the kind of love that uses "love" to mask some kind of ulterior motive, but the kind of love that is willing to look someone in the face and embrace them for who they are, even if that might mean “suffering with” them.

Well, the week presented some unexpected opportunities for me. The moment I walked in on the first day, one of the leaders of the retreat asked me if I’d be willing to lead the “self-care” session that is part of the curriculum. I agreed, and found myself towards the end of the day trying to teach about the benefits of focused breathing and meditation.

I was asked to lead another self-care session on Thursday afternoon on the topic of forgiveness. We were a little rushed to finish the day out, so I didn’t have as much time to discuss the topic as is needed. Reading through the curriculum, I decided to try to focus the short session talking about 1) being people who are forgiven and 2) being forgivers. As I approached the session, I kept remembering the audience with which I would share: these were people who had potentially been treated as if being forgiven was impossible and being forgivers was irrelevant. I began the session discussing all the ways un-forgiveness affects us, how it becomes a weight that bogs us down and often affects all our relationships. I illustrated “forgiven and forgiver” citing an example from “my faith background.” I told them about how we often, in our time of worship, will confess our sins before God and others, and the priest/pastor will then say “In the name of Christ you are forgiven.” Then, as those who are forgiven and reconciled, we go and extend the hand of reconciliation, forgiveness, and peace to others. We are graced to be forgiven and to be forgivers. After I shared for these brief moments we concluded the session by taking a few moments to sit in silent reflection, and I encouraged each person to reflect and/or pray about being both forgiven and forgivers.

Well, as we were concluding the last day of the retreat, one of the participants asked to borrow 30 seconds of my time. I said “of course” and we went around the corner to talk. This person told me that for a long time he had been carrying around a burden because he had not been able to forgive the person who had infected him with HIV. He told me that during the session on forgiveness he had been able to forgive that person for the first time, and that consequently he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his life.

This was quite a powerful experience for me. The opportunity to talk about forgiveness in that setting was something I never could have planned or sufficiently completed. In light of this opportunity as well as a few others that randomly occurred throughout the week, I really felt as if the Spirit was at work and had graced me to participate in that work. It was one of those opportunities that wouldn’t have happened without the Spirit and one of those circumstances where I found myself saying “If You don’t show up in the midst of all this, I will certainly mess something up.” I’m scared of such opportunities and circumstances but I guess they are what I should pray for.

"Tuesdays With Morrie"

2008-06-08T19:54:00.000-05:00

Over the weekend I picked up a book I had heard I should read and I now recommend it to others, Tuesdays with Morrie, because I think it does a good job at showing the journey for one man as he approaches death, but is a very short read. In reading Final Gifts and how what is truly important to a person is what becomes the focus for them as the approach the end of their life. It has really gotten me to start thinking about what is truly important in my life and how I choose to give my time and energy. Many of us have heard, and even used, the cliches about living life to the fullest, and "live like there's no tomorrow," but I wonder how much we take that to heart and transform our lives if we really were going to die tomorrow? What would we do differently? What would we spend our time doing? Who would we spend it with? Is there someone I need to reconcile with to die peacefully? I think we take our lives for granted thinking we have all the time in the world, and we get caught up spending our time and energy on things that aren't that important to us. In my exposure to hospice work there is talk about how, although someone may be in hospice care and thus facing the end of their life in a real way, their life is not over yet, they are not just a "dying person," but a life with a very beautiful gift, the gift of time. Because they are becoming more aware of their own mortality and the end of life the things that are the most important to them become more aware and the important things can fade into the distance. They have the gift of time to do what they need to do and say what they need to say to die peacefully. Some never have this chance due to a sudden tragedy, so might we learn from those living our their final days as to what is really important in our life so that we might not wait until we don't have the opportunity anymore to say or do what we need to do.

I offer some passages from Tuesdays with Morrie that struck me...

~ "The most important thing in life is learn how to give out love, and to let it come in."

~ "It's horrible to watch my body slowly wilt away to nothing. But it's also wonderful because of all the time I get to say good-bye." He smiled. "Not everyone is so lucky."

~ The first time I saw Morrie on "Nighttime," I wondered what regrets he had once he knew his death was imminent... he nodded, "It's what everyone worries about, isn't it? What if today were my last day on earth?"... "Mitch," he said, "the culture doesn't encourage you to think about such things until you're about to die. We're so wrapped up with egotistical things, careet, family, having enough money, meeting the mortgage, getting a new car, fixing the radiator when it breaks - we're so involved in trillions of little acts just to keep going. So we don't get into the habit of standing back and looking at our lives and saying, Is this all I want? Is something missing?"

~ "Everyone knows they're going to die," he said again, "but nobody believes it. If we did, we would do things differently."

So we kid ourselves about death, I said.

"Yes. But there's a better approach. To know you're going to die, and to be prepared for it at any time. That's better. That way you can actually be more involved in your life while you're living."

~ "I believe in being fully present," Morrie said. "That means you should be with the person you're with. When I'm talking to you now, Mitch, I try to keep focused only on what is going on between us. I am not thinking about something we said last week. I am not thinking of what's coming up this Friday. I am not thinking about doing another Koppel show, or about what medications I'm taking. "I'm talking to you. I'm thinking about you."

~ "In the beginning of life, when we are infants, we need others to survive, right? And at the end of life, when you get like me, you need others to survive, right?" His voiced dropped to a whisper. "But here's the secret: in between, we need others as well."

~ "As long as we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without every really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on - in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here." His voice was raspy, which usually meant he needed to stop for a while. I placed the plant back on the ledge and went to shut off the tape recorder. This is the last sentence Morrie got out before I did: "Death ends a life, not a relationship."

"A Hard Day"

2008-06-06T18:10:00.000-05:00

"I'm having a hard day..."

This afternoon I visited with one of my patients, Peter* (as mentioned in an earlier post) and the first thing he told me when I asked how he was going was, "I'm having a hard day." This was my second time seeing Peter*, but my first time going to see one of my patients by myself. I had been looking forward to seeing him because the last visit with him was so special and touching, but as I entered the facility and made my way through the building to the elevator I felt some anxiety about this visit. Peter* had been in isolation contact on my first visit so I wondered if that was still the case where I would have to wear gloves and a gown to enter his room for my own protection, the gloves and gown being a physical barrier between myself and Peter* that disturbed me on my previous visit. It had really disturbed me having to wear gloves and a gown to enter his room because I worried that he was already feeling isolated by living in a facility and not being able to see his family as often as he liked. The physical interaction he seem to so desire and could have with me, to hold my hand, was suddenly interrupted by the sterile latex gloves covering my hand, again not for his protection, but for my own.

While Peter* did not remember my name from my first visit, and again struggled with understanding how to say "Denise" he did recognize my face and thanked me for coming by to see him. I felt as if he was quite frustrated during our visit by his comments of it being "a hard day" and there was "a lot going on." As I asked him questions and tried my best to simply be present to him to listen to anything he wanted to say or talk about I grew sad at seeing how frustrated he was becoming with trying to answer my questions and share things with me. Peter* would begin to respond, saying a few, and then stumble on his words as if his mouth would just not say the word he wanted to say so badly. He would try a few more times and then say "I'm going to try it one more time," and unfortunately he would still struggle to finish the sentence he wanted to say to me. I wanted desperately to hear what he was trying so hard to say, and I could see great frustration as his blue eyes penetrated mine. He kept apologizing to me that he wasn't doing a good job explaining himself or taking care of himself. I was saddened to see this was happening more now than my visit a couple weeks ago.

With sitting in volunteer training and reading Final Gifts (for the second time) as part of my placement I have begun to see how those that near life's end go through a lot as sickness and disease cause them to begin facing their own mortality, something most of us try our hardest not to think about, begin grieving various loses (ie, jobs, health, physical ability, control, ability to do things they once enjoyed, and ability to take care of their basic needs), and it is "hard work." I'm not sure any of us can ever completely realize how hard that work might be and other hard work that may be going on internally that as "observers" we're not even aware of. Near the end of my visit with Peter* he told me "I'm full" but was unable to say any more about what he meant by that. I was given the privilege again to be in prayer with him as I offered some words of intercession to God for him, and Peter* surprised me by adding his own prayer after mine. We talked for a few more minutes and suddenly Peter* squeezed my hand tighter and began to pray to God again. I'm not sure what prompted his need to pray again while I was there, but I felt privileged to be part of that intimate moment with him as the words of his second prayer seem to show a small change within him that he felt more assured of God's power and presence, and asked for strength from the Holy Spirit.

I left soon after the second prayer because he seemed to be tired from my visit with him, although he did not want me to go. He thanked me several times for coming and said that he would see me later. I did not want to leave because he seemed to desire human interaction and a simple touch of holding his hand, and I do hope to see him again soon and that communication in our next visit would be easier for him the next time.

(*name has been changed for confidentiality)

hard love

2008-06-03T11:08:00.000-05:00

Loving people is hard work. Even loving your friends at times is hard work. But I think God calls us to love people as He loves us. In knowing myself it must be hard for God to love me at times with the crazy stuff I do, except that God chooses to love us unconditionally even as we continually fail to love God back unconditionally. Because we are called to love all people, God's people, we in turn allow ourselves to become vulnerable with people when we love, which at times results in being hurt.

I received a call on Saturday from my mom during which she let me know that Drew had passed away. Drew had worked in the same office as my mom for many years, and so when I worked there various summers I also got to know Drew a bit. Over the past year to year and a half Drew was diagnosed with cancer and began the hard fight of battling cancer. He had to discontinue work, but from what I hear attempted to maintain as much normality of life as possible until the end, doing the things he had been doing as much as he was able. Since my mom found out for certain about his diagnosis we have been praying for him, and so it is hard to hear that he has passed away. Drew had such a sweet, quiet and gentle spirit about him that just radiated from him. Our prayers continue for his wife Sandy, and the rest of his family and friends as they mourn his passing.

But it is hard to know someone, love them and lose them, and so how do you remain joyful in the midst of so much suffering and pain? How do we continue to find and see the beauty in life when we are surrounded by so much pain, disease and death?

On Thursday of last week I got to see the In-patient Care Facility (ICF) for Duke Hospice out in Hillsborough and spend some time with another chaplain, Rachel. While I was out there Rachel took me by to visit a patient, Lazarus*. During our visit with Lazarus* he commented about how "everything was hard" and "if you can't trust God who can you trust?" Over and over again I've been amazed at the openness of the patients I have met. His comment about how "everything is hard" triggered my memory from hospice volunteer training about how those near the end of life describe it as a hard process. We are not entirely sure what that means or what exactly they are referring to, but that nearing the end of your life can be hard work. Rachel and I stayed with Lazarus a little while longer and offered to read him some Psalms. When asked if there were any in particular that he would like us to read he said "anything you want to read" as if he cared more about our just being present with him, than what we were doing. As I read to him Psalm 91 he laid still and closed his eyes as if to take in every word. Rachel offered a prayer with him before we left and he thanked us for visiting with him.

Upon checking work voicemail a message had been left that Lazarus* had passed away last night. Although I had only met him a few days prior and spent maybe a half and hour with him it is still hard to hear that he had passed. As a chaplain we offer compassionate caring for patients and being part of hospice we know that our patients are coming close to the end of their life, but it is hard to not be affected by the death of any patient you meet. How do we faithfully follow God's instructions to love people? I am reminded of one of my favorite quotes from CS Lewis:

"There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

The call to love people is a call to be vulnerable because when we love we open ourselves up to being hurt, but we must continue loving while we are on earth and we look forward to Heaven where our love will be perfected and there will be no more sorrow and no more tears. "Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away" (Rev. 21:4b NRSV).

As a hospice chaplain we love people through offering presence and providing their spiritual care and needs, so I think it only natural that you would be affected by their death. As a hospice chaplain how do we continue on in hope in the midst of people facing the end of their life? And how do we find the beauty in life with those suffering from terminal illness and disease? I'm still struggling with those questions because I believe there is beauty and God's presence in the midst of suffering and death, even though it may be hard to see. I can say from two weeks of field ed that is has been beautiful to spend time with people who are suffering offering presence to be with them, and journey with them a bit in their suffering. This isn't to say suffering is beautiful, because it most definitely is not, but I am saying in the midst of journeying with someone suffering there is something beautiful about opening up to one another even in a mere 30 min visit. It is beautiful for one to be present with someone dying, being present for the patient despite your insecurities about what to say and anxiety about seeing someone suffer from a disease because you want to help them live well even if they are facing death. It is also beautiful see someone dying in being allowed to enter sacred space of being with them in their possibly final hours and days of living, and to share with you about their life, what they are experiencing, or anything! It is truly a privilege to be invited into such an intimate time and moment with them, but it is also hard love for those of us who remain.

(* names have been changed for confidentiality)

agency vs. parish placement

2008-05-31T21:09:00.000-05:00

My previous two summer field ed placements have been parish placements in rural towns of North Carolina, so this summer is the first time I have served in an agency placement outside of the church since I worked with Confrontation Point Ministries (Crossville, TN) during undergrad. Going into this summer I can say that I have definitely felt called to and led to serve in this area of ministry to those who face terminal illness and the end of their life due to my involvement of working at ICEOL this past school year which led to a growing desire to be ministry to/with the sick in a hands-on way. The part of ministry I missed over the past school year working with ICEOL was that my time was spent in an office where my work affected the training of doctors, nurses, social workers, chaplains, ect who would in turn work with the sick, but not getting to be with sick myself, not getting to hear their stories, hold their hand and journey with them. I was very excited that my field ed placement for the summer worked out so that I could continue my work with ICEOL, but also that a majority of my time would be with Duke Hospice (on the front lines, so to say) journeying and being with people.

As I sat in field ed orientation, watching my friends and classmates get pumped for their parish field ed placements (I'd say over 90% of students are in parish placements), I began to wonder if I would miss being in a parish placement this summer, as I had the previous two summers. Would I miss preaching? Would I miss leading worship? Would I miss assisting with communion? Would I miss being involved with ordering the life of the church? These questions began to swarm around my head as I sat in Goodson Chapel for orientation and carried with me as I prepared for my own field ed placement. Since I first identified God's calling on my life for ministry I come back to the question of parish ministry time and time again, and over and over again I have "decided," possibly convincing myself, that God is not calling me to parish ministry, to pastor a church. Why does this question continue to surface time and time again so that I have to wonder if I really am running away from parish ministry.

It is amazing how God really does talk to us when we take time to listen, and by listen I mean really listening. I am still struck at how although I consider myself more comfortable with silence than most that I still do a good job of filling my life with noise and distraction leaving little to no time of real silence for meditation and reflection. I recall my time with CP and going caving where we got to the devo spot deep in the cave, sat in a circle, turned out our lights and sat in silence. The ringing in our ears showed us how weird it was to have the absence of noise, noises we pay little attention to but saturate our lives, and it seemed almost as if our ears were straining to hear some noise because they were so used to being bombarded. The first week of field ed I spent a lot of time alone because my roommate is gone for her summer placement and many of my friends from school are dispersed across the country (and world) or were out of town, so I was left to actually face my own thoughts and questions.

I think I am realizing how much I miss being in a parish placement this summer, and while I do feel called to be in the placement I am this summer, that my heart may in fact be for parish ministry. One evening that first week I was struck clearly as to the reason if I am in fact running away from being a pastor. It is simply because I am scared. Being the pastor of a church is scary, especially as a young single female pastor. I catch myself every so often desiring to live in a rural area and my heart is definitely for the smaller churches (no mega churches for me please!) and while pastoring a small rural church doesn't sound very exciting for some it sounds like a wonderful life to me (despite the many challenges). This passion for the rural church is a major part of the reason for my transfer in membership to the Western North Carolina Conference of the UMC. Obviously these are questions I will probably continue to discern for the rest of the summer, and even for my lifetime, but I do hope and pray God will continue to shed light upon my questions as to where He will lead me next. I covet your prayers as I discern a calling to parish ministry following graduation from seminary.

What is Hospice???

2008-05-30T22:03:00.001-05:00

I realized that some may know little or nothing about what hospice care is and so I've decided to post some general info about hospice to educate folks about hospice, and possibly dispel any misconceptions floating around about hospice. I think hospice is pretty amazing and not sure why people would not want to "take advantage" of this great care which is available.

The following is some brief information about hospice found on theDuke Hospice website:

What do we do?

At Duke Hospice, our goal is to help patients and their caregivers face the end of life with comfort, dignity, and compassion.

Duke Hospice provides palliative care to meet the physical, emotional and spiritual needs of our patients and their loved ones. We provide care in patients' homes, nursing homes, assisted living facilities, hospitals, and our hospice inpatient facility in Hillsborough. Duke Hospice is JCAHO accredited.

What is Palliative Care?

Palliative care specializes in managing the symptoms associated with a terminal illness - physically, emotionally and spiritually. Patients are given comfort oriented care rather than curative care.

Our Services

Terminal illness can be exhausting for both patients and caregivers alike. The demands may simply be too great for loved ones to manage alone. Our interdisciplinary team ensures that all patient and family needs are met.

Nurses

Our Registered Nurses and Licensed Practical Nurses provide direct patient care and collaborate with the interdisciplinary team to ensure symptoms are managed effectively.

Social Workers

Our social workers will assess the psychosocial needs of the patients and their loved ones to ensure that their needs are met. They can also provide assistance with locating community services and resources that appropriatly meet their needs.

Chaplains

Our chaplains are available, upon request, to assess patient and family spiritual needs. They can also coordinate with local clergy to provide support for patients, families and the community.

Nursing Assistants

Our Nursing Assistants provide personal care assistance and support for patients and their families.

Volunteers

Provide a broad range of services to meet patient and family needs. Volunteers provide a caring presence to patients and emotional and practical support for families and caregivers.

Bereavement Counselors

Support family members/caregivers up to one year following a patient's death. Our Bereavement Counselors provide both group and individual counseling for family members and friends.

Additional Services

24 hour on-call RN, Social Worker and Chaplain
Medical consultations with Hospice Medical Director
Medical supplies and durable medical equipment related to the terminal illness
Medications related to the terminal illness
Therapy consultations by Dietary, Physical, Occupational or Speech Language Therapists

The following are some FAQs hospice, also found on the Duke Hospice website:

What is Hospice?

Hospice care addresses the physical, emotional and spiritual pain of terminally ill persons and their family members. Hospice focuses on "palliative" measures (comfort-oriented measures as opposed to cure-oriented measures) to enhance the quality of life, for both patient and family, during their remaining time. A key focus in Hospice care is to keep the patient in familiar and comfortable surroundings. Managing symptoms in a home environment (whether "home" means their personal home or a facility) avoids lengthy hospitalizations and serves to make Hospice a more cost-effective alternative to unnecessary, and often expensive, interventions.

Hospice incorporates the patient's family into the unit of care. Their psychosocial needs, as well as those of the patient's are addressed by social workers. Hospice chaplains are also available to address spiritual issues or concerns. Bereavement professionals have contact with the family to guide them through the difficult transition that accompanies the death of the loved one. Volunteers expand Hospice services in a variety of ways, such as providing respite to patient family members or running errands for the family. In addition, the presence of volunteers is a mandated Medicare standard wherein five percent of the total annual patient care hours are volunteer hours.

Is Hospice like home health?

Well, yes and no. . ."yes" in the respect that home Hospice care, like home health care, focuses on caring for the patient at home. Also "yes" in the respect that both are cost-effective alternatives through their decrease in or elimination of costly hospital stays. But, there are more differences than similarities.

The primary difference is that home health care is largely focused on rehabilitative care, while Hospice is appropriate only for those with limited life expectancies. Hospice also specializes in controlling the pain and symptoms unique to terminal illnesses. Over the years, Hospice methods of pain control and symptom management have come into their own as a specialized body of knowledge. Hospice considers the entire family, not just the patient as the "unit of care."

Where does the idea of Hospice care come from?

The modern concept of Hospice care began with a young woman named Cicely Saunders who, as a clinical aide, became very close to a gentleman for whom she was caring. As the man's condition progressed, they had many conversations concerning the needs of a dying person. They discussed the need to address pain on all levels -- physical, emotional and spiritual -- and how by doing so, the quality of life would be enhanced for those with limited life expectancies. When the gentleman died, he left Cicely Saunders a portion of his estate to carry out their ideas. Cicely Saunders used the money to complete medical school, knowing she would never have the credibility to advance their Hospice concept as a lay person. Dame Cicely Saunders began the first modern-day Hospice, St. Christopher's, in London in 1967.

"Hospice," incidentally, comes from the same Latin root from which words such as "hotel," "hostel" and "hospital" are also derived. During medieval times, a Hospice was a place of shelter for travelers. The idea remains in the modern use of the word - "Hospice" as a place of shelter for those journeying through the final months, weeks and days of their lives.

Is Hospice a sort of Kervorkian-type thing?

No, Hospice neither hastens nor postpones death. The National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization has responded officially to issues surrounding the Jack Kervorkian case in particular and physician-assisted suicide, in general. Hospice care is designed to control pain and symptoms associated with terminal illness, neither prolonging life nor hastening death. In this way the degree of suffering which might prompt some to consider assisted suicide would be lessened. The time patient and family spend together in the patient's last days can be a very positive experience.

Hospice is about choice and maintaining quality of life in the face of death. When looking at the issue of physician-assisted suicide, the issues are far from black and white. While recognizing this issue in present day thought, we maintain that good Hospice care controls the suffering of a large percentage of those who might opt for suicide to end or avoid pain. Even so, many people remain unaware of Hospice care and how Hospice can help.

Is Hospice just for cancer patients?

No, Hospice care is appropriate for anyone facing a limited life expectancy. Approximately half of people on Hospice are dying from illnesses such as emphysema, cardio-pulmonary problems, Alzheimer's disease, and other system disorders.

How is a person referred to Hospice?

Referrals to Hospice come from a variety of places: the patient's physician, discharge planners at hospitals (in consultation with the patient's attending physician), nursing homes, family members, friends, members of the person's church, co-workers, home health agencies. All a person has to do to make a referral is to call our office, with the prospective patient's permission. Hospice will contact the referred person's physician to see if in fact they have a terminal prognosis. (Hospice cannot contact the patient's physician without the express approval of the patient.) Only then is the family contacted to explain the Hospice program and asked if they are interested in our assistance. If so, an assessment visit is arranged, at which time, if appropriate, the person may elect to be admitted.

Who is eligible?

As a Medicare/Medicaid provider, Duke Hospice is subject to guidelines for admission which require: 1) the patient has a prognosis of 6 months or less IF the disease runs its normal course, and the physician confirms that prognosis: 2) the patient, patient's family and the physician agree upon a non-aggressive course of treatment. In other words, there has been agreement that curative measures be ended and comfort-oriented treatment becomes the focus of care.

Hospice evaluates each referral for its "appropriateness." Hospice does not provide 24-hour in-home care, but does have nurses on-call twenty-four hours a day. Hospice social workers can help arrange 24-hour care through hired nurses’ aides or similar contract personnel. It is not mandatory that a patient have a primary caregiver, but this factor along with the patient's physical condition and support system, is taken into consideration at time of admission. When remaining at home is no longer feasible for a patient without a primary caregiver, arrangements can be made to admit the patient to one of many local care facilities with which Hospice works.

If you sign on with Hospice, do you give up your own physician?

No. The intent of the Hospice program is to help the physician with care at the end of life. The doctor is notified of patient status changes, and is involved in the care plan. Patients may make visits to their doctor's office or clinic if needed.

Do physicians get paid if their patients become Hospice patients?

Physicians are reimbursed for office visits as usual. Time spent on the phone in consultation with Hospice staff concerning status or prescription changes may also be billed to Medicare. The doctor is responsible for billing that time to Medicare.

Why do you have a Hospice program for nursing homes?

Nursing homes are no longer places where "old folks go to die." Many focus on rehabilitative care and nursing home staff are not always familiar with terminal/palliative care needed by residents with limited life expectancies who choose this approach to care. The Duke HomeCare & Hospice's PARTners (Palliative Care in Alternative Residences) Program allows people who call a long-term care facility "home" to receive the benefits of Hospice care and avoid relocation to hospitals. Our staff works with nursing home staff on issues of death, dying and bereavement so that they, as the primary care givers for their residents, can offer care for terminally ill residents.

How many people do you serve a year?

During 2006-2007, Duke Hospice served 865 terminally ill persons.

How is Hospice funded?

Approximately 85% of our Hospice receipts come from patient care reimbursement, including Medicare, Medicaid, private insurance, State Employees Health plan and patient fees. The remaining 15% comes from community support.

How do you raise money from the community?

Hospice receives many donations in memory of Hospice patients. The Duke HomeCare & Hospice (DHCH) development office is responsible for additional fund raising. They accomplish this through direct mail campaigns, the Service of Endearment Program and other person-to-person fundraising events, including the annual Oh, What A Night gala.

When I give a donation, where does the money go?

Donations to Duke Hospice are used exclusively by DHCH for hospice and help provide care to Hospice patients in our area who are uninsured and underinsured. Such contributions are critical to our mission that no one ever be turned away from hospice because of an inability to pay.

Does Hospice provide bereavement support only to family members of Hospice patients or are there programs for the public as well?

Hospice offers support to the families of Hospice patients for a year following the death of their loved one. Bereavement Counselors are in touch to evaluate the survivor's grief process, and to direct them to additional counseling if they experience complicated grieving. Bereavement Services are offered to the community at-large as well as to Hospice families throughUnicorn Bereavement Center in Hillsborough.

What is Camp ReLEAF?

Camp ReLEAF is a bereavement camp for children in grades 1-8 who have experienced the death of a family member or friend. The camp is designed to allow kids to express their feelings about the loss, and meet peers who have endured similar experiences. Camp ReLEAF has been held by Hospice for the last ten years and is not limited to children of hospice patients.

Does Hospice use volunteers?

Volunteers serve Hospice by working with patients and families, working in the office, helping with special events or other fund raising efforts, manning booths at health fairs and speaking on the behalf of Hospice. Volunteers are needed in every department of the agency in addition to those who train to serve patients.

How do I become a volunteer?

By calling the Volunteer Supervisor for information. Volunteer training classes are held several times a year for those who wish to volunteer with patients and their families. Office volunteers and others do not need to go through patient care training (although it is still very informative).

Why does Hospice need an Inpatient Care Facility?

Hospice at The Meadowlands provides service to individuals in need of acute care. In recent years, what Hospice has been asked to do is provide intensive physical, emotional and spiritual interventions for dying patients and their families during an increasingly limited time between admission to Hospice and death. Hospice service is most intense during the first two weeks of admission and the last two weeks of life. Additional patient care costs include expenses for medication and equipment supply. Initial nursing, social work, and chaplain visits require thorough assessment as well as documentation processes for patient data initialization. The Inpatient Care Facility is devoted to patients in need of symptom management that cannot be handled at home, i.e. when death is imminent and the patient and/or caregiver is unable to cope at home or if there is the need for complex patient and/or family instruction to prepare for transfer from the hospital to the patient's home. The facility at The Meadowlands is a cost-saving alternative to admitting the acute patient to the hospital. Thus, service at the Inpatient Care Facility is geared for shorter rather than extended lengths of stay.

Where is the Inpatient Care Facility?

Hospice at The Meadowlands is on an 11-acre tract near the Sportsplex in Hillsborough. A century-old farmhouse currently stands on the property, and has been renovated to serve as the Unicorn Bereavement Center. The six-bed Inpatient Care Facility is located directly behind the old home and admitted its first patient in April, 1996. Volunteers play a key part in the services offered by the Inpatient Care Facility.

The new Durham Inpatient Care Facility will be build beside of the historic Teer Home on Roxboro Road. It will be centrally located in Durham County, and on the DATA bus line to allow more patients and families the opportunity to take advantage of the benefits of inpatient hospice care.

Partners in Caring - Kevin's first blog

2008-05-30T11:31:00.004-05:00

Well, this is my first venture into the world of blogging. I'm Kevin Todd and am an M.Div student entering into my final round at DDS. This summer I’ve received a placement at an agency called Partners in Caring. Here’s a brief description of the organization taken from its webpage:
Partners In Caring (PIC) is a grant-funded component of the Duke University Medical Center Pastoral Services Department and the Duke University AIDS Research and Treatment Center (DART). It was initiated to bring an end to the personal and spiritual isolation experienced by people living with HIV/AIDS (PLWHA), their families, and their friends, particularly in rural North Carolina.

Partners in Caring has a variety of programs through which it serves those living with HIV/AIDS. If you’d like to check out some more information about Partners and Caring and its programs see www.dukehealth.org/Services/partners_in_caring.

My first week at PIC I was glad to find out that I had some time to read up on HIV/AIDS. Artie, my supervisor, provided a few quality resources that helped me establish a foundational understanding of the disease and some of its social factors and statistics. Some of the statistics are pretty staggering:

North Carolina stats
Statewide: Since 1983 there have been 32,582 reported cases of HIV/AIDS in North Carolina. Currently there are 21,593 known cases of people living with HIV/AIDS in NC.*
Durham: Durham is listed as having the fifth highest amount of HIV disease cases out of all the counties in NC; there are 1,240 people that are known to be living with HIV/AIDS in Durham county.* (These and other stats can be found at: www.ncpublichealth.com)

*Note that these are known cases; estimated figures account for the fact that around 25% of people living with HIV/AIDS do not know they are infected. (www.cdc.gov/hiv)

US stats:
At the end of 2003 there was an estimate of 1 to over 1.1 million people living with HIV/AIDS. And as of 2006, the cumulative estimated number of deaths of people with AIDS in the US was 565,927. (www.cdc.gov/hiv)

International stats:
At the end of 2007, it was estimated by UNAIDS that there were 33.2 million people infected with HIV worldwide. On a global scale, everyday almost 6800 people are infected with HIV and nearly 5700 die from HIV related illnesses. (More global statistics and information can be found at www.UNAIDs.org)

It is quite evident that there is a great need in the area of HIV/AIDS; it is a need that calls us to work toward treatment and prevention, and it cries out to us to respond with compassion, genuine care, and solidarity. Unfortunately it seems that many parts of the Body of Christ have tended to turn the opposite way, responding in ignorant judgment, anti-hospitality, and perhaps the most damaging and pervasive response…silence.

This past week we had a joint commissioning service with the interns and residents from the pastoral services department. Part of the litany with which I was commissioned said:
We wish to affirm and bless your call to serve as an intern in the wider community with those deeply impacted by HIV, STD's and substance abuse. You have been chosen to offer pastoral care and other worthy services with those who face discrimination and isolation because of the stigma of their conditions. You are commissioned today to live the words of the Christian Testament, "Just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me."

I hope and pray that my time with Partners in Caring will give me the opportunity to learn how to respond to the needs of those living with HIV/AIDS and others like it, primarily as it will open my eyes to see those whom we tend to look past and to hear the ones we often ignore. May God grant me grace to look and listen. And I hope that the availability, openness, and obedience of “Here I am”—that phrase often heard in response to God’s voice in the OT—will be evident and true of my posture this summer.

2008-05-26T12:47:00.000-05:00

For those not familiar with the words to the two songs I mentioned in the previous post...

"Precious Lord Take My Hand"

Precious Lord, take my hand,

Lead me on, let me stand,

I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;

Through the storm, through the night,

Lead me on to the light:

Refrain:

Take my hand, precious Lord, Lead me home.

When my way grows drear,

Precious Lord, linger near,

When my life is almost gone,

Hear my cry, hear my call,

Hold my hand lest I fall

Refrain

When the darkness appears

And the night draws near,

And the day is past and gone

At the river I stand,

Guide my feet, hold my hand,

Refrain

"It It Well With My Soul"

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain:

It is well, with my soul,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Refrain

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Refrain

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,

Even so it is well with my soul

Refrain

These happen to be two powerful songs in my own life that have spoken to me before, but I think the words are very appropriate for this setting, for those facing the end of their life and the peace and comfort that God can give to us on our final journey.

Where did the week go???

2008-05-26T11:06:00.000-05:00

I can hardly believe that the first week of field ed is already over and there's only nine more to go! I'm gonna have to get on the ball with this blog to keep you folks updated more often because I have so much to say! ;o) Well with one week under my belt I can say that this will be an amazing summer because I have already been pushed far out of my comfort zone and witnessed many beautiful moments in merely a week's time.

Much of my work at ICEOL remains the same as it has been during the academic year working on the APPEAL conferences. The next APPEAL conference will be in Dallas, TX on July 11-12th so we are now beginning to feel the crunch of time as we make sure marketing material goes out, finalize logistics and work on making this conference happen. A majority of my job for APPEAL is spent in working with the faculty who will be presenting in putting together the various powerpoint slides in a master show, having them double/triple check to make sure those are the slides they want to use and that they are in the correct order, and what portion(s) of the DVD they would like to show and where in the presentation it will be shown. We have decided to continue to improve the flow of the presentations, which is the conference, by embedding the movie segments into the actual presentation. This means working a bit more in advance on deciding what portions will be show because it takes time to make these files and not something that can be changed the night before the conference. The faculty also vary from conference to conference, and though same remain the same there will be new faculty so there are significant changes for each conference.

As much as I enjoy my time with ICEOL I am looking forward to spending most of my field ed time with Duke Hospice where I get to be with people. The work I do with ICEOL contributes to educating doctors, nurses, chaplains, social workers, ect in the APPEAL curriculum and in turn hopefully affecting their work with those in palliative care, but I also desire to be on the "front lines" with those being affected by palliative care. There is much to share about my first week with Duke Hospice. My time each week will consist of visiting patients and writing documentation about the visit, meetings including a weekly supervisor meeting, writing a verbatim for weekly supervisor meeting (much like a verbatim for CPE), researching pediatrics and hospice (Duke Hospice hopes to be able to do more of this), reading several books my supervisor has selected and writing a reflection upon them, and various other tasks. In preparation for being given four patients to be in charge of for the summer (meaning, taking care of their spiritual needs) I attended hospice volunteer training last weekend (Fri-Sun) to get a good overview of hospice and see the role of the hospice volunteer. I will also be spending significant time shadowing Jodi and Danny, the two chaplains, as well as a nurse, social worker, ect to see the various parts of hospice that come together to care for each patient. Hospice care is based around an interdisciplinary team consisting of the doctor, nurse, social worker, chaplain and volunteer who care for the patient, so if you go on hospice care you get all of this! (If you want it, of course) I will also spend some time at the ICF (In-patient Care Facility), a short term stay facility, and the bereavement staff in charge of bereavement care, which is available to the family for up to thirteen months following the death of their loved one. More about the different things I do and have learned about hospice in general as I go through the summer, but for now onto the stories!

On Tuesday I shadowed Jodi to get a taste of what the role of the hospice chaplain is, and the identity I will be putting on for the summer. The role of the hospice chaplain is to care for the spiritual needs of the patient and patients are typically seen by the hospice chaplain once a month, and more if requested or a crisis occurs. Hospice believes that everyone has spirituality, which is different than religion, and so it is the chaplain's job to address their spiritual needs. I met a woman who I will be visiting with this summer named Esther* who is an elderly African American woman with lung cancer. Esther has been in hospice care for over a year and has a fairly positive outlook on life despite living with this terminal illness and the pain that comes with it. Since she came into hospice care her ability to walk around and care for herself has decreased, but she is still able to do much for herself. She is quite talkative and excited to meet with me so I am looking forward to my time with her. She was very excited to tell me about herself and show off her oxygen machine. While we were there Jodi got Esther to sing "Precious Lord Take My Hand" with her and it was incredibly touching moment to see this woman join Jodi in song that was familiar to her. Although Esther felt as if she couldn't sing anymore because her voice was weak she knew the words and joined in when she could.

The next woman I met is Deborah*, and elderly woman with dementia who lives with her son and daughter-in-law, but is primarily cared for each day by her granddaughter who lives next door with her family. Deborah only speaks a few short sentences a day, but seems to still recognize her name and be aware of what was going on around her. As Jodi and I sat talking with her granddaughter, keeping Deborah involved in the conversation, I noticed that she seem to listen to us and respond somewhat through making eye contact and smiling. I was struck at how easily the granddaughter continued to keep Deborah as part of the conversation even if we were not speaking directly to her. Being told Deborah only speaks a few sentences a day I considered it a very special moment that as Jodi and I took turns saying goodbye to her that she responded to each of us with a clear "goodbye" accompanied by a smile. She had been quiet during our entire visit, talking to her and each other so to experience her words was very special.

Our next travels brought us to a facility where I met a elderly woman, Rachel*, who is "actively" dying of congestive heart failure, and has continued to hang out over a week longer than expected. As I held her hand and Jodi sang "It Is Well With My Soul" she closed her eyes and continued to grasp my hand. At that moment I felt as if I were standing on holy ground, truly sacred space, to be invited into a place with someone so close to death and so appreciative that we have come to be there with them, even as a complete stranger. I was amazed at how eager she was to hold my hand tightly, not wanting to let go, and let me be close to her and look into my eyes and thank me for being there.

Also in this facility Jodi and I met with an elderly man, Peter* who greatly impacted my day. This was the first time meeting Peter for the both of us, and Jodi received an important call as we stepped in the room so she let me stay with Peter. I was struck when Peter was not satisfied with holding my hand but gently grabbed my other hand and arm as well as if he needed human touch. Later we realized we had walked into his room without the needed gloves and gown (more for our protection due to a small infection) and I was saddened as I re-entered the room now covered with gloves and a gown which would interrupt the physical touch he seem to eagerly desire. While the gown and gloves were for my safety, and possibly his own, it hurt that this may continue to lead to his feeling of separation from people as he approached the end of his life. His family was unable to visit much except for short visits on the weekends and so it seemed that Peter was very lonely. During the time Jodi was away Peter struggled to talk to me. He told me that I was a beautiful girl, and that he was having a hard day, he seemed to be frustrated with not being able to say what he was feeling. It was as if the connection between his thoughts/feelings and being able to speak about that had been broken. We found out that Peter was a retired minister and so we asked if he would like to lead us in prayer, and he did so very willingly. It was a beautiful prayer because it was so honest and real, as he prayed to God about not understanding what was going, and for not understanding the not understanding. His prayer brought me to tears and a man I had known for 10 minutes would be so real and honest in front of complete strangers, and that even as a minister he was able to be honest about his struggles. Peter told Jodi that God was working on him through her and there was a sense that our visit greatly impacted him. Also noteworthy was Peter's humor, despite his great frustration with what he was experiencing and not being able to say what he needed/want to say he joked with Jodi, I and his aid. On a personal note, his humor reminded me greatly of my own father's humor, and how my dad had continued to keep his humor even as he drew close to his death. I feel as if Peter will play a special role in my summer and I look forward to meeting with him again.

Our last visit on Tuesday brought us to a man, *Gideon, who everyone thought was going to pass away several days earlier but continued to hold on. We visited some with his daughter before going in to see him. When I met Gideon he remarked to me about the sunshine coming through the window, how he loved it and wished he could be outside in it. Jodi asked Gideon what he wanted her to pray for and so Jodi led us in a prayer for relief of pain and for life. Gideon also surprised me by adding his own words to her prayer, praying to God for strength, and again, as a completely stranger, I witnessed a very real and honest prayer. I stood on sacred ground as Gideon was so thankful for our presence and saying that he believed it was "the beginning of the end." As we said goodbye to him he told Jodi that he loved her, and he also told me that he loved me. The look in his eyes as he held my hand, looked at me and told me he loved me said that it meant a great deal to him that we had come to see him. I again was amazed by the openness and the great impact of simply being present with people.

And that was just Tuesday :o) On Wednesday I shadowed Danny, the other hospice chaplain. We visited a different facility to check on one of his patients and meet another woman I will be "in charge of" for the summer. With our first visit I witnessed how the role of the chaplain can involve being an advocate for the patient in making sure they are properly cared for. Part of hospice care involves pain management, not doping people up into some drug induced fog so they can't feel pain, but controlling and managing their pain so they can live out the rest of their days as comfortably as possible, and the patients have control over the extent they would like their pain managed. The first woman was in obvious pain and so Danny made sure the nurse was notified and would address her pain, and find out what exactly was the cause of her pain. Something I learned from sitting in the APPEAL training for ICEOL (and briefly in hospice volunteer training) is that pain is more than just physical, it can also be emotional and psychosocial. When one is in pain it may be one or all three parts of pain, but being in pain can affect the rest of our being and so this is why hospice sees pain management as highly important so that patients' pain is not interfering with their ability to live out the rest of their life as well as possible.

The next patient we saw was Tabitha*, and active elderly woman with dementia. During our brief visit with her she was very outgoing and eager to communicate. Tabitha may be my most difficult patient to visit with because of how the dementia affects her ability to communicate, and this makes me a bit anxious because I have never been around someone with dementia before. As we were at the facility Danny was contacted by a family and asked to come for a visit. Although he had been by their house just two days before the family felt as if the end were near and would like him to come by and so we left the facility quickly to get to the family's house. The woman we would be seeing was 54 years old with colon cancer. When we arrived I was quickly introduced to the family, meeting her sons and their fiances, and her mother, along with the hospice nurse who happened to be there. Once the introductions were made we went upstairs to see her and as soon as Danny approached her bed the woman took her final breaths and passed just as I was entering the room. After knowing this family for five minutes I was thrust into a very intimate and personal time in their lives as they witness their mother/daughter die. I had no words to say, especially as a completely stranger, but I think in that moment what the family needed the most was our presence, and not our words. Luckily Danny was there and offered a blessing over her as she passed, some scripture (Psalm 23, John 14, Revelation 21) several minutes later and led a prayer for the family. I felt somewhat helpless watching them grieve and also somewhat awkward being a completely stranger in this intimate moment of their lives, not knowing them and not getting the chance to meet her before she died. Danny and I ended up staying for the next couple hours with the family sitting/standing with them, talking with them, and waiting for the funeral home to come remove her body. It is a bit hard to describe all the emotions I felt in that experience having witness a woman die right before me and be amidst a grieving family. My heart went out to them as I stood around them crying over her and standing by her bedside, but I questioned what was appropriate to do as a complete stranger and wanting to respect their space. As we stayed with them and were leaving it seemed that the family desired Danny's presence because he had been with them before, but they were also thankful for my presence. They even hugged me as we left although I had only known them for a short two hours, but that two hour journey was a most sacred and intimate time of their lives.

This entry is already so long so I will break for now, but definitely more to come later!

(*names have been changed due to confidentiality)

preaching, take three (finale)

2007-08-02T15:51:00.001-05:00

As you can see there to the left, the congregation has found various ways of engaging itself during my long-winded homiletic escapades. At least I have given the fifth-graders something to get excited about (from all appearances it is my gargantuan head).

All things considered, I think the last day went well. My parents drove up from Mississippi to see what I looked like doing this church thing. And they didn't run out in shock and horror. In fact, I think they liked being here (and the feeling was mutual). We had a great time laughing with some of the parishioners before we left.

I cannot believe that it is over. As some of you may have guessed from my early posts here, I was a little worried about this summer. I didn't know if I was really cut out for this "pastor" business, and I thought it would be frustrating working in a different tradition. To be perfectly honest, I thought it was going to be a long summer (even if I was working with very good people). It wasn't. It flew by. I was doing something I loved.

What's more, I received incalculable benefits from working in the Methodist Church. No, I'm not going to become Methodist. But working in that setting helped me realize my vocation with fewer distractions. It is clear now that my desire to be a priest is more than simply an attraction to "pretty golden things" (as my friend John says, describing certain monks that he knows); it goes beyond even the draw (valid as it is!) to the catholic liturgy. At the hospital bed, in the living room, in the pulpit, I felt at home. I am not, in a sense, home yet, but at least I have a better idea of where I'm headed.

It is nice to be back in my own apartment, able to cook for myself -- I won't be eating any barbecue for a while!

This last picture is me with a group from United Methodist Women, who gave me a copy of their cookbook.

being a scapegoat

2007-07-25T10:15:00.001-05:00

I mentioned in my last post that the committee evaluation was almost too positive for my taste, but this morning I got a little taste of something else. I don't think that it would be appropriate here to go into details, but someone unleashed on me a torrent of deconstructive rage. It was a very, very hard conversation. I thought that I was getting along fine with this person, and then in a moment it turns out that there was a lot going on under the surface.

I have gotten so much encouragement this past week that such unfiltered anger came as a shock. It has made it very hard to focus this morning as I try to prepare my final sermon. While I hope that I will be able to discern some areas of truth--places where I can really improve--I also have to remember what was very obvious (and what my supervisor told me): outbursts of this nature arise from a deep set of circumstances that may not have very much to do with me. I am leaving in a few days, and I present an easy target.

You know how we're always encouraged to pray the Psalms? They're part of the Daily Office, but so often I just mumble through them. This morning, though, tears came to my eyes; I had no idea how much I needed to say these verses:

Remember your word to your servant,
because you have given me hope.

This is my comfort in my trouble,
that your promise gives me life.

The proud have derided me cruelly,
but I have not turned from your law.

When I remember your judgments of old,
O LORD, I take great comfort. (Ps 119:49-52)

Youth Revival = AMAZING

2007-07-24T21:06:00.000-05:00

The past 7 days have been absolutely amazing.

I'm exhausted, I'm hopeful, I'm elated, I'm surprised, I'm happy, I'm full -- and I feel loved. The way God has shown Himself to me in the past 7 days has been an overwhelming sign of His love for me. Now, I know the theologically correct thing to say is that I feel God's love everyday. And I do! But the past 7 days have been...just...over and above. God never has to bless us richly, and yet He does. I feel so loved and cared for by God. God is soooooo good.

Last Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were the days during which the South Tryon Community Church annual youth revival occurred. I was the primary planner for the youth revival -- and that's probably why I felt extremely nauseous every night just before the services started. I was worried. Was God going to show up? Would my sermons (I preached W, Th, and F) make any sense at all? Would anyone come to the services? Would the kids get anything out of the revival? Would God be pleased?

And on and on and on.

Well, God indeed showed up and left me speechless from awe. Now believe me, I could talk forever about the amazing things that happened at the revival, but I'll just focus on a few ways God showed up and showed out and left me weak from having seen Him at work.

- One teenager gave her life to Christ on Wednesday night. In all honesty, the revival was an evangelistic tool, and watching one of my teens fall into God meant watching the thing happen that we clergy pray for and dream of. Thanks be to God.

- On the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of revival week, we asked the whole church to fast until a certain time and be in prayer for the revival. Well, on Monday I called one of the teens to ask for some help with some paperwork and she informed me that not only was she fasting, but so were several other teens. Now, this may not seem like a big deal to you, but for the teens to have believed in the revival and in God's power enough to fast (you can't even get adults to fast) -- was breathtaking to me. Breathtaking.

- On Saturday, we held the grand finale of the revival, a 'Block Praise Party,' at the church. We fed between 200 and 250 people. I can still taste all that BBQ and slaw (and I can still here the 4 different Christian Hip Hop groups that performed)! People came from everywhere -- children and adults, males and females. It was so beautiful to have that many people eating, dancing, and laughing on church grounds together. It was such a gift to watch God honoring all the work and planning that had gone into the event. And to top if off, after all the people were gone and I was walking to my car (utterly exhausted) -- a homeless man who generally chills on the steps of the check cashing place next to the church yelled to me, "Thank you for today!" I assume he'd come by and eaten earlier at the block party. Well his thanks to me almost brought me to my knees in tears, because (for reasons I shall never know) God used me as a vessel of His service. God used all of STCC as vessels of His love - and that is an incredible honor and privilege.

GOSH!!! -- there is SO much more I could say!!! So many more stories and joys and rewards. God is amazing. Until now, I had never planned anything on the scale of the youth revival or even thought about having a free cookout for an entire community -- and STCC, as a worship community shouldn't technically have had the resources or the abilities to make something like that happen. But God pulled a loaves-and-fishes miracle -- He miraculously provided ideas and people and dedication and hands and feet and hearts -- and in the midst of what was seemingly 'not enough,' God showed Himself abundant. God is awesome. Thanks be to God.

slowing down

2007-07-23T07:58:00.000-05:00

Well, my friends, we're approaching the end. Is that why no one's been posting here, of late? Are we all utterly exhausted?

Actually, I'm not. But there is something odd about being near the end. (And it may be that here we have simply run out of things to say.) My committee evaluation was done last night. It was encouraging--in fact I wish they had been a little more critical. This week, there will be a lot of "lasts." The last time to have lunch at this particular place; the last time to visit someone; the last Wednesday-night service project; the last time to wander the churchyard; and, of course, the last Sunday.

(The picture is from Shiloh's churchyard, where I am prone to wander when I get there early in the morning--a reminder that I'm not alone. And yes, dear Methodist friends, I pray for the dead. You can even find some hints in the Methodist Book of Worship. It's not something I've advertised a lot this summer, because I've noticed that when somebody dies the bulletin always just says "the family and friends of so-and-so." But if we can't pray for people--and with people--dead or alive, I'm not sure what we think we mean when we say we believe in "the communion of saints.")

Falling In Love

2007-07-16T20:50:00.001-05:00

Well its happened. I've begun falling in love with South Tryon Community Church.

I'm excited, but at the same time nervous as I dunno what -- because South Tryon is so unlike anything I've ever done, and is so different from anything I've ever felt called to. Its also nerve racking, because South Tryon (surrounded by an indescribable amount of need and pain and seeming hopelessness) is where outcasts -- society's invisible people -- come to worship; and I'm not sure I'm ready to be outcast with them, to worship with them. You see, South Tryon Community Church is smack dab in the middle of three impoverished housing communities that have been all but abandoned by a host of surrounding people and policies. South Tryon is a real, down-to-earth, come-as-you-are, Christ-centered church. And as I continue to work here, I find myself if I'm really willing to be so honest, so humble, so needy, so real -- as to worship with the people of STCC.

This week in particular has been CRAZY, because STCC's annual youth revival starts in appx. 48 hours. Oh, and did I mention that I've planned the revival from the ground up? 'Cause I did. If ever there were a time of honest humility -- its now. I'm anxious, nervous, excited, happy, and hopeful. I can't wait to see how God works through the several Holy Hip Hop artists we've invited to the revival, through the ex-cons we've invited (they'll share their testimonies), and through the musicians and choirs we've invited (they'll be sharing through song). I'm also curious to see what words God speaks through me, as I'll be speaking each night too. I'll keep you posted!

Lastly, falling in love with South Tryon becomes irresistibly easier each day, as

God creates bonds and relationships between me and the people of the community. For example, after spending all day at the church in my office working, I stepped outside just to catch a glimpse of the light of day. I was then greeted by playing children and yells of, "Ms. Chris!!!" I realized, then, that they were excited to see me -- and I was overwhelmingly, almost to the point of tears, excited to see them. This joy -- joy that comes from experiencing God through others -- is such a gift. I also experienced this gift the night we took 45 community youth to the skating rink. As I did all the "chaperone stuff" like tying skate laces, I found myself having more fun than most of the kids. Just honing relationships was enough for me. It felt so good -- so peaceful -- to feel God's presence through the laughs, smiles, and freedom of the ones God has called me to serve.

Happy Fourth of July (four days later)!

2007-07-08T23:04:00.000-05:00

So you might be wondering how I made it out to NYC to have my photo taken with the Statue of Liberty...well this is actually the Statue of Liberation Through Christ aka the Lord's Lady Liberty at the World Overcomers Church in Memphis, TN. It is a controversial, 72 foot replica of the original Statue of Liberty with a cross in her right hand and the ten commandments in her left hand. I just thought it might add to the church/flag/nationalism discussion.

If you want to read more about it, check out http://www.thestatueofliberationthroughchrist.org/

preaching, take two

2007-07-08T14:43:00.001-05:00

Well, my throat got dry, and apparently I (still) talk to fast, but it seemed to go relatively well. We had three baptisms, and a family join the church, so I preached on that--knowing well how low a lot of people around here view baptism. I don't think it was as good as my first sermon--but then again, it wasn't quite as, well, momentous (my mom said, "You've been waiting your whole life to preach that sermon," which may be truer than I think it is). If you're interested, the text is here.

[Updated with picture. I picked the one with the oddest facial expression.]

happy fourth

2007-07-04T08:02:00.000-05:00

In wishing you all a happy Independence Day I do not purposefully eclipse the significant Christian holidays which have passed in the last few weeks (the Nativity of S John the Baptist, and SS Peter and Paul, in particular), but I am still happy to be in this country, and I like fireworks, grills, and popular history as much as the next person.

I bring it up here not because I wish to revisit our flag discussion, but because, especially following up on my last, more negative post, I wanted to say something good about Shiloh: last Sunday was blissfully free of patriotic extravaganza. I don't think that "My Country 'tis of Thee" is the best way to conclude a Christian worship service, yet if it weren't for that I think one might have mistaken it for any other summer Sunday--which is exactly right.

In fact, I, good postliberal that I am, was the only one to explicitly talk about Independence Day during the service, and that happened during the children's sermon. I tried to explain to them that true freedom is not being able to do whatever you want (like eating nothing but cake, or taking naps in the middle of Hwy 150), but the freedom to love and serve God.

So happy 4th of July. I hope you all enjoy whatever celebrations are at hand. (I, as I expected, will be joining some parishioners.) Comments are encouraged: what will you be doing for the holiday?

Hello from Ghana!

2007-07-03T15:59:00.000-05:00

I write this blog with much excitement! I arrived in Ghana with Dr. Curtis Freeman, Chad Eggleston, and Mr. and Mrs. Walker to attend the Baptist World Alliance Conference.

The last time I came to Ghana was in 2002 - I had just graduated from High School. It has been five years since I last came home.
On our way to Ghana, we stopped in Nigeria for a transit period of 45mins. As the plane prepared to land in Nigeria, it finally hit me that "I am almost there." I could not help but burst out in tears! Thank God for sunglasses...

A lot has changed since I last arrived as a teenager. Our once quiet neighborhood is now a hub for social mongers! There are more shops and restaurants in our neighborhood now. And oh...noise! But the people have not changed much. I asked my parents if they had grown "short" or I had grown tall! I am still not convinced by the answer I received.

Apparently the biggest change has occurred in myself. The first thing I did after I arrived at home was to go to my church. Can you believe it....no one recognized me!!! I only revealed my identity to one person! To the rest... I just said "hello." My mom thinks that it was too late and dark, so I will give them another chance. But more importantly, I am now able to analyze and give a critical (de)construction of events around me.

I am very very excited and I have a lot of reflections to write after the conference, and pictures to share with those who might be interested. For now, just keep all of us in your prayers. I know that at the end of this trip, I can only look back and repeat the usual, "THE LORD HAS DONE IT AGAIN."

let's have a round up

2007-07-01T17:20:00.000-05:00

A round up is when a blog community asks one another to answer pertinent questions. Here are a few for us to chew on:
(answer them using the comments page)

Can you believe the summer is half over? How have you been spending your time?
Who is invisible where you are...and have you been able to shed some light on them? How'd ya' do it?
What was the funniest thing that happened to you in June (that you can share with Duke Divinity)?
What has been the most moving thing?
The most surprising thing?
What is going to be the hardest part about leaving in a month (if this applies)?

speak up - let' s get some conversation going...otherwise you are all going to get pretty tired of only hearing from the people listed on the left. In the immortal words of Halley Mills "Let's get together yeah, yeah, yeah."
(okay so she didn't write them...but she sang them in the original Parent Trap movie)

interesting ecumenics

2007-07-01T10:48:00.000-05:00

There are any number of things that could bother me this summer, but, by the grace of God, most of them don't. That is, serving a church in a different tradition is a high-level exercise in discerning adiaphora in ecclesial practice and doctrine. One learns to love people even if they are silly; and one hopes even to learn how one's own practices may be silly, and how we can all learn to do church better.

While at first I was dismayed that my parish here only celebrates Holy Communion once a month (and yes, I know, that's more than some), I am now beginning to see it as a blessing, for the simple reason that I am not sure if I could go through it again. Leaving aside the liturgical/historical awkwardness of intinction and grape juice, my main issue is simple: crumbs. They're everywhere. It makes me sick to my stomach. I don't care what your view is of what happens during the Eucharistic prayer (or for that matter of the validity of Methodist orders); even the most Zwinglian/modernist/memorialist should be able to see the irreverence of tossing the bread all over the place.

Now, deep breath. The rest of the month is just preaching. Probably no chance for interpellative catechesis. The Lord can handle it. Focus on the task at hand: eating green beans, fried squash, etc. Mmmm.

vbs

2007-06-29T21:19:00.000-05:00

Oh mercy - I am behind on my posts and I have not even been to the middle east! I am in the middle of Vacation Bible School. (Sam said something a couple of weeks ago about the vbs hangover - I think I am there. It is not so much margaritaville as it is juice and crackers town). When this weekend is over, I am driving to the home of the Children's Director of our home church with a great big bunch of roses and a gift certificate to somewhere nice where there are no crafts.

This is hard work! It is also really fun. There is this tiny group of kids running and singing and learning about Jesus loving them. And there are sugar cookies. And tomorrow a pool party (if it doesn't rain). This small church thing has a lot going for it. The cookies are homemade - and the wool for the sheep craft they are making is...sheep's wool! I am learning so much. I am so tired. And I am actually, finally, having some fun. This picture is Margaret the music person teaching the kids to sing the "We are Disciples" song. Remember that one? "We are D." -- "We are D.I." -- "We are D.I.S.C.I.P.L.E.S." You get the idea.

The most interesting thing that happened today has two parts. Part one is the fact that when the kids acted out the Good Samaritan story - our Levite had an intern! Part two is the fact that tonight went so much better once I started to act like a pastor (instead of one of the moms helping with vbs). It's not like I was not acting like the one in charge yesterday. It is just that I was not acting like a pastor. I cannot even explain what was different tonight - but it was different. I was different. And the whole night went better and more smoothly. And everybody had a better time - including the intern. Two weeks ago I was counting the days, wishing my summer away. Now I feel like it is going too fast.

Like the song goes: "Jesus is calling us to be his disciples!!! D. I. S.C.I.P.L.E.S!!!"

the way time passes

2007-06-27T10:43:00.000-05:00

I love old people. I know some might not like that as a category, so, if you prefer: I love senior adults, elderly folks, etc. But I think it ridiculous to think of "old" as a dirty word. Today I met an 81-year-old man (not the oldest in our church by far) who proclaimed that he was old, and thankful for it. Amen, I say, to that.

How can we receive the gifts God gives--age, for example--if we do not acknowledge them? I have been steadily amused at the "young adult" Sunday School class here at the church, where the younger members are in their mid fifties. I am not saying that they ought to "admit" that they are "old," but I do wonder if calling ourselves something that we are not stops us from growing into the blessings of what we are.

Anyway, all I really wanted to say is how much I have enjoyed visiting people--at home and at the hospital. I keep saying that, because it keeps shocking me. I'm not even very good at it. I don't want to do it on many levels. But afterwards I always get the feeling that I have participated in some primal way in my (our?) raison d'être, and so (as usual) a stock phrase: "The Lord is glorious in his saints: Come let us adore him."

Spontaneous Bible Study

2007-06-26T21:02:00.000-05:00

Wow. Everyday here at STCC brings more excitement, more challenges, more lessons, more joy, and more God-filled-ness. God is so good. Sooooo good. I can't say it enough.

This past week brought an interesting challenge my way. I must preface this recollection, however, and say that my prayer (for the past week and a half or so) has been that God would help me really live into the truth that He alone is success. You see, with the HUGE amount of responsibility that I carry here at STCC, with the great amount of need present in the surrounding communities, and with my spirit literally being touched everyday by people's hope, pain, and smiles -- I have found myself wanting to plan this, and start that, and do this, and make that work. I have been ever so tempted to depend on me. I think, "If I can just plan the perfect revival, and make an amazing eye-catching flier, and save every teenager in Charlotte by August 17th -- then God will be pleased."

Hahahahahahaha. Yeh right!

Everyday I learn (anew) that if God doesn't do it -- whatever it is -- it isn't going to get done. God alone is the one who touches hearts, who brings in the people, and who meets the needs. I'm just a vessel -- useless really -- unless God molds me, fills me up, and uses me. I am learning that I can't get caught up in planning (as tempting as it is). I have to get caught up in worshipping.

With that said.....let's get back to last week's interesting challenge.......

I showed up at Bible Study on Thursday evening and I noticed a group of church members standing outside the church. I grabbed my Bible, exited my car, and headed to the church steps. As I walked toward the group, Ms. Ann said to me, "We're locked out." "No problem," I said, and I reached for my church key. But....why were they locked out? Wasn't Pastor Rivens here? And wait -- if Pastor Rivens wasn't there -- who was gonna teach Bible Study? Ms. Maggie then turned to me and said, "Are you teaching Bible Study tonight?" Well trust me -- I had not planned to teach Bible Study. As I pondered her question, I was informed that Pastor Rivens had had a death in his family and had to unexpectedly go out of town. Someone was needed to stand in the gap.

Just then -- my prayer came to mind and the Holy Spirit gently reminded me that God is success -- my plans do not make success. God's Spirit -- spontaneous and beautiful -- is the core of true success.

So -- led only by the Spirit -- I opened the church doors and led Bible Study. With an on-the-spot lesson and an on-the-spot hands-on illustration -- the church members and I excitedly walked through Ephesians 6 and the first two parts of the armor of God (the belt of truth and helmet of salvation). It was AWESOME!!!!!! We walked through the text together, asked questions of each other, and learned some really deep things!!

The experience left me speechless. First, I was speechless because of how God moved in spite of my lack of preparedness. Second, I was left speechless by the way the church members so warmly welcomed me to teach them. Third, I was awed by the way we came together as a community -- plans aside -- and just plain ole studied God's Word.

I told you God was good.

Sound the Alarm!

2007-06-25T23:16:00.000-05:00

This past Saturday, I attended the O.K. Program of Indiana’s 3rd Annual Awards Ceremony. O.K., which is an abbreviation for “Our Kids,” is a program that provides mentors for young African American males. The black teenage boys enrolled in the program are provided with mentors. The mentors serve as positive male role models. Mentors build personal relationships with the teenagers and, by means of a reward system, encourage success in school. On Saturday, students who had achieved or maintained good grades, good attendance to O.K. meetings, and had been good citizens received awards. Included in the package was a one-week field trip to Atlanta, GA for all who met the requirements. A handful of Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department (IMPD) cops have partnered with the program to work with these boys. These officers work together with students, police agencies, schools, community members, and faith-based initiatives to provide support to young African American males. As I see it, this type of law enforcement is preventive law enforcement, rather than the usual retributive law enforcement – often disguised in the name of “justice system.”

During the event, the speaker – Sergeant Timothy Knight of the IMPD – cited a few statistics that sent me reeling. According to Sergeant Knight, among young adults ages 18-44 who are incarcerated, over 40 percent are black males. Of course, being the critical student that I am, I knew not to just accept these nauseating statistics at face value. I therefore decided to do my own research on the Bureau of Justice statistics on prison and jail inmates. The latest statistics on prison and jail inmates can be found on the U.S. Department of Justice website (Please see Harrison, Paige M. and Beck, Allen J, Prison and Jail Inmates at Midyear 2005. May 2006). Relevant to our discussion are the rates of imprisonment among young minority men – particularly African Americans. According to Harrison and Beck, “When the total incarceration rates are estimated separately by age group, black males in their twenties and thirties are found to have high rates relative to other groups. Among the nearly 2.2million offenders incarcerated on June 30, 2005, an estimated 548,300 were black males between the ages of 20 and 39” (10). That means – from my own research – that black males within the ages of 20 and 39 make up about 25 percent of the total US prison population. This is different from Sergeant Knight’s conclusion of over 40 percent. The purpose of my research, however, was not to disprove the Sergeant’s findings. His numbers may be more recent than the 2005 statistics from which my conclusion is based (and I have asked Sergeant Knight to point me to his sources).

While I must admit that I breathed a sigh of relief after coming up with numbers far less than what Sergeant Knight had suggested earlier, I must confess that the numbers are still repugnant when one looks at the overall picture. African Americans make up about 12.9% of the US population. Let us assume that black males within the ages of 20 and 39 make up about 40% of the total black population – this is not likely; the percentage should seem far less if we are to consider ages of black males under 20years and above 39yrs. If 40% of the black population is males 20-39yrs, then this age group makes up about 5.16% of the total US population – again, the actual percentage would be far less, but I am considering the best scenario. What these results – arrived at from this crash course in statistics – mean is that about 5.16% of the US population makes up 25% (a solid quarter) of all incarcerations. For those of you who are totally discombobulated by all these mathematical calculations, let me summarize my research findings in words (with no numbers): less than five percent of the total US population accounts for over a quarter of the total number of incarcerations! Again, this is the best scenario; the actual numbers might be worse!

Every compassionate person would agree that there is a calamity. I do not think this is the forum to debate the issue that some people who are in jail truly belong to jail. I have been involved in prison ministry long enough to be able to opine that most people are in jail not because they are inherently evil – we all are; rather, an unhealthy environment is the primary cause of most incarcerations. In other words, most people are in jail because of the kind of communities they were born into. At least part of these young people’s crime is that they happened to be born into or lived in the wrong neighborhood. In my five years of prison ministry, whenever I have the courage to ask a prisoner why he did not choose a better path, I get almost the same answer every time: “There ain’t many other options for us. This is what you grew up with.” By saying this, I am not implying that people should not be held accountable for their actions. But it will serve us a great deal if, rather than be quick to judge and condemn others, we acknowledge that if we had been brought up in a similar environment, we too might become a statistic. On a more theological note, then, I have to remind Christians that our quotidian assertion that “I am blessed,” is quite a presumptuous claim.

With such high rates of black males being locked behind bars, prison life permeates African American community and prevents it from rising. There is a kind of vicious cycle – a whirling vortex that sucks young people in as it spirals downward. There are no male role models for these young people. If you have most of the men in a particular community in jail, then it is natural for young males to view transition from community to prison as the normal process. Sad to say that, in some communities, this may be as natural as kids in other neighborhoods transitioning from middle to high school! Let me say – knowing well that this might land me in big trouble with hardcore feminists – that when a community loses men, the entire neighborhood takes a hit, and the stability of the neighborhood is threatened. Indeed a generation of young people has emerged whose lives and very essence has been deeply marred by the prison industry. I do not have time to go into the psychological effects that these kids, required to go through security every time they need to see “daddy,” experience. There will definitely be anger, resentment, anxiety, and bewilderment if a child has to be searched each time he or she wants to see “daddy.” As young as these kids are (sometimes 5 or 6yrs), their only recourse is to mask their inner maelstrom. These kids are too young to express how they feel on the inside.

We need to recognize that there is a crisis. Rather than spend tax-payers money building more prison facilities, the best solution is to deal with the factors that lead to the offenses to begin with. This is “preventive” law enforcement, rather than the prevailing “retributive” law enforcement. If something is not done to rescue some of these young people, many who could have been saved will be damned. As many officers and mothers pointed out during the O.K. ceremony on Saturday, in most cases all it took was showing a young person that they were cared for. When some of these teenagers felt a sense of care and protection, all the anger, bitterness, resentment, and disdain for authority receded. Anger and resentment were replaced by determination and creativity. There is hope: with some effort, many of these teenagers can be rescued.

The purpose of this article is not to point the finger at any persons. We need to get beyond the blame game and acknowledge that there is a crisis. Yes, SOUND THE ALARM. Go and tell it on the mountains, over the hills, and in the country – there is an epidemic that is eating away a whole generation. Tell it with all your might. Tell it with all that you do and are. The prophet Isaiah says, “For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest” (Isaiah 62:1). For the sake of America’s future, we cannot keep silent. The fact is that we cannot turn this issue into a “black issue.” The task is greater than the black church alone can handle. The truth is that if we care about the future of America – not only of minorities – then we must raise the Homeland Alert level to the “Severe Imminent Threat, Red.” What is needed is an “emergency response.”

If there are any Christians reading this article, then let me end with a reminder of a simple but profound truth: We are all God’s children. And if we are all God’s children, then these kids are O.K. – Our Kids!

The Emergency Phone

2007-06-25T15:47:00.000-05:00

Bethany has an emergency phone that members can call if they need a pastor at night or on weekends. It was my first time on the rotation and Mark handed me the phone, commenting that it rarely rings. I stuck it in my pocket without much thought.

Of course, at 1 AM that very first night I am startled awake by an unfamiliar ringing noise. I jump out of bed and answer, “Hello, this is Elaine Wilder.” The person on the other end explains that they are calling from Summerville Hospital, that “John Doe” has passed away and his wife wanted to notify the church. I said thank you and that someone would be there as soon as possible. I hung up the phone, shocked. The Bethany staff gave me the phone, but never told me what to do if it rang! I had never provided pastoral care surrounding a death before. Nerves were building. I knew I was headed to the hospital.

I turned on the light and opened my closet. What does a female pastor wear to the hospital in the middle of the night? The male pastors at Bethany would wear a clerical collar, but I don’t have one. I didn’t want to look too formal, but this wasn’t a casual situation either. I decided on a suitable outfit and jumped in my car.

As I was driving, I started to calm down. I began praying that God would use me to bring peace and comfort, and that God would give me the appropriate words.

I entered the ICU room where the body lay. John’s wife was there filling out paperwork. She recognized me as the summer intern and we embraced. She immediately told me that she was thankful for 36 wonderful years of marriage. I listened as she continued to share memories. We spoke of how we were grateful that John’s suffering had finally come to an end. Once the daughter arrived, we all gathered around John’s body to pray. We shared a lovely prayer together, offering thanksgiving for John’s life and prayers for John as he moved on to eternal life. I wrote down my phone number and left the family to have some private time together.

What a privilege it is to offer care to a family during a death. I have never felt so honored in my entire life. God truly does bless us with the words and gifts we need for our ministry. I am thankful for this, my first opportunity, to minister to a grieving family.

I have the on-call phone for the next two weeks. While I hope it never has to ring, I look forward to responding if it does.

teary-eyed prayers

2007-06-25T13:50:00.001-05:00

With Matt (my supervisor/pastor) out of town, I'm having to go it alone this week with some of the home and hospital visits. It is by no means my favorite part working in the church, but it's the part that I most need to remind me that I am in fact working for the church, and not some sort of well-meaning self-improvement intellectual-aesthetic commune.

Today, though, a parishioner volunteered to go with me up to Forsyth Medical Center, where a member had recently been hospitalized. He heard about the situation when I did, he knew that I had never met the man in question, and he had planned on taking me to lunch anyway. Good divine timing, if you ask me.

It turned out that L.V. was in for what he thought was a second stroke--but turned out not to be (they're not really sure what it was). He was sitting up and reading the paper, so we were able to have a good conversation. At the end I offered to pray with him, and so I took his hand and prayed this terrible prayer--honestly, I thought, as I said amen, "Now that was a lame prayer! This guy's going to wonder what kind of idiots they're sending to the ministry these days." But then when I looked up L.V.'s eyes were wet.

I don't know if I'd say making an old man cry is always the mark of the Holy Spirit, but it certainly wasn't anything genius on my part. I was humbled. And so I have to say with John the Baptist, in today's (transferred) reading, "He must increase, and I must decrease."

I'm a church hopper!

2007-06-24T21:05:00.000-05:00

Since my placement is an agency rather than a church, I have no formal Sunday commitments. Each week I have been attending a different church in the Memphis area. It's been refreshing but strange at times to have no responsibilities in the services. I've also had the freedom to visit churches of different denominations--Disciples of Christ (Christian Church), Baptist, Full Gospel, and United Methodist. Over the next few weeks, I hope to attend services at United Church of Christ and Messianic Jewish churches.

I think it's always helpful to remember what it feels like to be a visitor to a congregation. I've really appreciated when pastors explain their understanding of various aspects of the service like Eucharist, offering, prayer, song, etc. Little things like signs, notes in the bulletin, and space in the service to greet one another really help a visitor feel welcome. One church even sent me a bag of cookies!

Even though all of the congregations I have visited have been very warm and welcoming, I have felt most "at home" at the United Methodist Church across the street from my placement. Dr. Scott Morris, the founder and executive director of the Church Health Center, is an associate pastor at St. John's UMC in addition to his administrative responsibilities and medical practice. As a dual-degree student in the UM ordination process, it's been great to have a model of how a pastor can be involved in the worship and life of a congregation as well as a faith-based non-profit organization.

preaching, take one

2007-06-24T12:44:00.001-05:00

This morning I preached my first sermon (which I've posted here). I was excited about it up until the last moment, when, singing the hymn, I suddenly realized what I was about to do. Then I got a little nervous. Craziness.

Once I was in preaching-mode everything went well. I got some good comments, and a lot of the comments which basically indicate that people were happy to have gotten out on time. I'm hoping that I get some more critical assessment at some point.

Hard Lessons

2007-06-21T09:38:00.000-05:00

Though I've only been here at STCC for 2 weeks, its feels more like 2 months! The pastor and congregation here really encouraged me to dive headlong into this new community, and that's exactly what I've done.

I have so many responsibilities, and the pastor here at STCC guides with a (self -proclaimed, mind you) "hands-off" approach. That basically means, whatever God leads me to do -- I am free to do. I am free to take complete charge of a project and shape it and mold it into the thing I feel led to create. This freedom also affects how I work with other members of the church -- I have complete freedom to organize workers, invite youth to activities, or even plan "training meetings" for upcoming events. Along with this approach -- as you may have guessed -- comes a GREAT deal of responsibility. A GREAT DEAL. I am in the midst of planning projects that won't get done unless I coordinate them and I have people who look to me for what to do and when to do it. I am not exaggerating when I say, I have never had so much responsibility placed on my shoulders. Never.

This is a new experience, and I'm not sure how I'm doing at it. I'll give you an example. One of my main tasks this summer is to plan, from the ground up, a 4-day Youth Revival. I never realized that planning such an event had so many ins and outs! There's so much to be considered. A normal day of planning consists of, first, finding entertainment for the revival (this involves a great deal of networking and LOTS of telephone calls). I've been trying to locate several Gospel Rappers and invite them to perform. I've also been in talks with a Christian Comedian and a Christian R&B singer. Let's not even talk about drawing up contracts and setting prices. Second, planning involves going to different businesses in Charlotte and asking for donations -- paper products, food, fliers -- anything that might assist in serving the youth. Third, it involves creating publicity for the event -- composing fliers, putting an ad in the newspaper, booking a slot on local radio stations, etc. Fourth, it involves contacting local churches and inviting them to join us during the revival, and encouraging them to share their gifts during that time as well. Next, there's going back and forth with choosing a theme. What message does God have for the youth? What theme does He want the revival to center around? Also, workshop topics and leaders have to be selected, the menu finalized, the needed funds raised/located, and on and on!

And, all this is on top of daily ministry activities like leading Bible study, serving at Trinity's Table which is a free-meal program offered twice a week, preparing sermons, serving at SOULED OUT which takes place every Friday night from 6-8 as a fun place for youth in the community to come and chill, pastoral care of the congregation, and personal times of prayer and fasting.

The honest truth is, I usually totter between two extremes during the day. Sometimes I remind myself to stand firm on God's Word and I know, without a doubt, that God has everything under control, and I stand confident that God would not have called me here if He wasn't going to challenge me and grow me. And other times, I look around and simply feel like I'm about to have a panic attack.

STCC is a pilot project that was started by the Western North Carolina United Methodist Conference, as an exploration into innercity and urban ministry. Its not a HUGE ministry, and the STCC building isn't particularly high-tech or fancy. There are only 1 or 2 people on full-time clerical staff, and money, of course, is always an issue. Nevertheless, the ministry is doing so much. God has been so good and has truly moved in the midst of STCC. STCC understands the communities that surround it (housing developments), and it uses that understanding to "meet...people where they are" (that's the church's motto). However, its the kind of ministry where when a good thing happens, everyone knows without a doubt that it was only by God's grace. Everyone realizes that though it seemed impossible, and there wasn't enough money, and there weren't enough volunteers, and there were way too many 6-12 year olds running around, and there wasn't enough food to go around...even though it seemed impossible....God did showed up and showed out anyway. Because we are constantly reminded of how little we have in terms of resources, we are constantly reminded of how much we need God.

As I serve here at STCC and I am stretched in ways I've never been stretched before, and stretched in ways that honestly I do not like to be stretched -- I am reminded of how God alone is abundant. Dr. Amy Laura Hall, in her Christian Ethics class, reminded us that Christ is abundant. Even when resources are not -- Christ is and always will be. I am worn so thin, and I even run out at times, and sometimes I'm tempted to complain, give up, cry, and scream. That's when I remember that our work here at STCC exists and continues only by God's grace. We are only vessels. This is a lesson I struggle, on a daily basis, to remember.

Nevertheless......God is faithful, and every now and then He places people or events in my path to remind me of this lesson. This past week, my reminder came in the form of "Sweating in the Spirit!" "Sweating in the Spirit" is an aerobics DVD. Every Monday and Thursday, the women of the church come together (dressed in t-shirts, shorts, and sneakers), pop in the DVD, and.....sweat in the Spirit! The aerobics class is a FUN way for the women to spend time together, and to remind one another about the importance of physical health. As I stood there exercising, laughing, and dancing with my sisters in Christ, I was reminded of the beauty of community and I was encouraged to keep on keepin' on. And that's exactly what I'll do.

a little youthiness

2007-06-21T08:26:00.000-05:00

Sorry for two posts in a row, although this does follow up somewhat on the previous. I had the youth last night for the first time. There aren't many of them--even less in the summer. Last night we had four, all boys. The bulk of the time we spent making bubblegum sculptures--which they loved, to the utter disgust of their parents. But I also decided that, rather than trying to make up some sort of devotion, I'd do Evening Prayer with them, and in the process introduce them to some of the benefits of praying something that you didn't come up with on the spot (i.e., the nonce prayer that nevertheless all sounds remarkably similar to me).

I don't think most of them cared. They squirmed through the whole thing, interrupted to ask what we were doing, lost their place, dozed off, etc. But, overall, I'm very glad I did it. It introduced them to something new, refreshed some things they'd heard before (like the Our Father and the Creed), and gave them the opportunity to ask some questions (which did, by the way, prove that they were paying a little attention) like, "Why are we talking about the catholic church? Don't they believe that you pay to get into heaven?" So amidst the dizzying conversation that followed--which still convinces me that these kids take in a lot more than you would expect--I dare to hope that at least three ideas came across: (1) "catholic" means universal, (2) Methodists don't believe in Purgatory, (3) catholics do not believe that you have to pay your way into heaven. I guess it's not a bad start, all things (gum sculptures) considered.

sanctifying time

2007-06-20T12:46:00.000-05:00

What are the most important parts of pastoral ministry? I had the answer but I dropped it somewhere in the part of my mind I lost at noon from eating too many hushpuppies.

Oh, yes. So we hear all about the wonderful social ministries of the church, the mission projects, the youth groups, the children's choirs, even the worship services and sermons, but it's not that often that I hear about prayer. I mean, we're all supposed to do it, right? And everybody seems to think that pastors pray--though whether or not they pray more than your average parishioner (especially when we start counting the elderly folks with little to do) is up for grabs. While it would be ridiculous to sit around praying all day and never do any good (I'm pretty sure the prophets have some comments on that), it's equally absurd to go around trying to save the world (an interesting aspiration to begin with, whatever you mean by it) without prayer.

One of the ordination vows in the Book of Common Prayer asks, "Will you persevere in prayer, both in public and in private, asking God's grace, both for yourself and for others, offering all your labors to God, throught the mediation of Jesus Christ, and in the sanctification of the Holy Spirit?" The ordination rite in the Methodist Book of Worship contains (not surprisingly) very similar language.

I knew when I first got here that I was going to need some kind of daily ritual. The Daily Office, one of the great gifts of Anglicanism, has provided it, as is "meet and right." It provides both opportunity for prayer but also for meditation on the Scriptures. What's wonderful is that I can easily consider this part of my job, and likely it will be for most of my life. During the school year, unfortunately, our academic schedule at Duke does not lend itself well to routine prayer (much less regular corporate prayer). (I shall stop here lest I start ranting about chapel.)

Anyway, if you've never tried the Office, don't think about it as an Anglican or catholic thing. It's a tradition to be shared. It's "common," after all. And it's a joy to know that when I pray I'm not simply praying for the Church but with the Church.

If you'd like to join us sometime, the easiest way is simply to find Morning or Evening Prayer in the BCP (available online), or find it daily somewhere such as the C of E's website (though the readings are different).

Meet Monica: A Challenge to Traditional Notions of Mission

2007-06-19T20:14:00.000-05:00

I went on a mission trip with a group of youth and adults to Wolfe County, KY from June 10-16. Wolfe County has a population of about seven thousand – over 99.2% these are White. I am sure I helped to double the Black population in Wolfe County during the period that I was there! We spent a week with the Appalachia Service Project (ASP). ASP is a Christian volunteer organization that provides housing services to low-income families living in Central Appalachia – specifically in the states of Virginia, West Virginia, Tennessee, and Kentucky. Volunteers repair the homes of families in these rural communities.

We stayed at the Bethany Christian Center in Campton, KY, and each crew – of about seven – were dispatched to their job site every morning. My crew was known as the “Babysitter’s Club.” I am sure this name was derived from Monica’s occupation. Monica, the wonderful lady whose house we repaired, babysits for friends and family. On a given day, Monica could have anywhere between five and ten children at her house. She kept a close eye on the kids and also tried to instill moral values in them. These adorable kids played with us and offered a helping hand. I bonded with a 3-year old boy called Michael. Each time I crawled out on my belly from the bottom of Monica’s house - after hours of digging 2 ft by 2ft square holes and pouring concrete - Michael, who would often be keeping an eye on me, would run to meet me – his face beaming with excitement. While Michael was so comfortable and enlivened around me, some of the other kids gazed at me in awe from a distance. My approach toward them would, however, cause a retreat on their part. Monica, never afraid to express what was on her mind, would often say about those kids: “they ain’t never seen a black man before; they’re from one of them places”! We would all giggle at this statement, knowing, though, that there was an element of truth in Monica’s dissection of the situation.

Monica was a wonderful host. Each person on my crew expressed that the memorable part of the trip was getting to know Monica. While she was bugged down with the distraction of trying to keep her children in their place, Monica would still offer to give us a helping hand in our project. Despite being often turned down, Monica was insistent that we allow her to give us a helping hand. She would ask over and over again, “Is there anything I can do to help.” Being aware that she had her hands full, we would often say “no.” But a determined Monica would find something to contribute to our project. At times she would pull out the bags of dirt that we had accumulated from digging, giving us more room to dig. In the face of impending shoulder surgery, which is to take place within the next couple weeks, Monica would grab a hammer and beat the nails into our girders. Finally, when we had managed to get Monica away from getting her hands dirty with us, she would either go inside the house and grab her electric fan to cool us as we worked, or make a gallon of kool-aid; or sometimes even order pizza.

For the life of me, I could not understand why Monica would not just “leave us be” to do our work. Why could she not just be content with being a hospitable host to volunteers working diligently on her house? Why could she not concentrate on taking care of her many children and not interfere with our project? After days of watching a restive Monica, she made a statement that seemed to me a rejoinder to my poser: “I feel bad watching you all doing all that work and me doing nothing.” Monica wanted to contribute to this project.

Of course, I tell Monica’s story because there may be a profound pastoral or theological reflection that can be drawn from her story. Monica’s story, while not directly related to the church, has shed some light on an aspect of our traditional understanding of “mission” that baffles me. This was a “mission” trip, but one does not have to travel in order to do “mission.” Thus, most churches are involved in what they refer to as “local mission” – an attempt to reach out to people in depraved neighborhoods within the locality of the church. I tell Monica’s story, because often in our “missionary” work, we place people on the receiving end of the spectrum, while we do well to remain on the giving end of the spectrum. Of course, we are the missionaries, and thus, we have to give to these people whatever we planned (or should I say budgeted) to give them. These people on the other hand, as beneficiaries of our benevolent mission (or should I call it missionary zeal), should allow us to do our ministry effectively by receiving whatever we planned (or budgeted) to give them. Notwithstanding, churches – especially affluent churches trying to reach out to impoverished communities within their locality – have to reexamine their traditional conception of “mission.” I say this because the result of placing people on the receiving end of the spectrum, while we remain (or work hard to remain) on the giving end of the spectrum is that we create invisible boundaries around us. These invisible boundaries prevent people that we have placed on (or pushed to) the receiving end of the spectrum from ever feeling that they can fellowship with us. Needless to say, we are often oblivious to these invisible boundaries because of our blind spots and our zealousness to engage in mission. We need to remember that it is extremely – very, very, very – difficult to be on the receiving end all the time.

Some people, even though they need the help we offer, do not always want to receive; they want to participate; they want to bring something to the table. Like Monica, they want to contribute. Most people – especially those in impoverished communities – increase their feelings of self-worth by being useful. The problem with our traditional model of doing “mission” is that we try to develop a relationship with people, but we tell them – indirectly or unconsciously – that they should not worry about contributing something to the relationship. We tell them to be leeches and feed off the divinely inspired vision placed in our hearts by God. Those of us who have been in any kind of relationship, whether with friends or lovers, know that a relationship cannot exist if both parties do not contribute to the relationship. If only one person contributes, the other becomes a parasite. If only one person is allowed to contribute, what we have is a hierarchy and not a relationship. Could it be that despite our stellar local missions ministries, we fail to draw people into our “open doors” because of the invisible boundaries that we have created around us – a boundary that says to people: “we have open doors, so long as you come in here with open arms to receive.” After much discussion with folk who are beneficiaries of churches’ local missions, I have discovered that people would very much like to enter our “open doors”; but they also want to be assured that they can bring something to the table. The challenge for us is whether we will be prepared and willing to receive whatever they have, even if we have millions and theirs is a widow’s mite.

We have to reshape our conception of “mission” that views mission as a one-way street. Mission is a two-way street, and we must begin to find ways to give people the opportunity to offer something.

Some thoughts from an exam room...

2007-06-18T22:31:00.000-05:00

So I've been spending time in the wound care clinic and learning about the healing process for bodies and souls...

The majority of the patients who are referred for wound care have diabetes. One common complication of diabetes is neuropathy, which is a nerve disorder that often leads to numbness in hands, arms, feet, and legs. Once a person loses feeling in their hands or feet it is easy for them to injure their bodies without even realizing it. A small blister that might be a painful nuisance for a non-diabetic person can lead to infection and even amputation for a diabetic patient if it is not properly treated. Diabetes is an extremely demanding disease that requires discipline with nutrition, exercise, monitoring of blood sugar, and checking your feet.

I have been amazed and touched by the loving care that the wound care nurse and physician provide for their patients. They patiently listen to the concerns and needs of the patient before they ask them to sit in the exam chair in order to examine their wound. They thoroughly understand the healing process-cutting back calluses and applying ointment and bandages when needed.

Some patients enter the exam room with smiles on their faces, but as one woman stepped through the door her body language and tone of voice seemed to indicate that she was feeling downtrodden. She had been referred to wound care because she had two large blisters on her feet from walking. As she commented about the situation, she said that she was disgusted. I asked her if she was disgusted about the actual blisters on her feet or that she was not able to walk. Tears streamed down her face as she told us, “I’ve been doing everything they have been telling me to do—checking my blood sugar six times a day, walking five days a week to try to lose some weight—but now I can’t even walk because of these blisters. I’m just disgusted because I’m trying so hard but for no use. I’m afraid I am going to start to get depressed over it all.”

I spent some time just listening to her, giving her some space to cry, and responding with some empathy. Then, I shared with her about some of the exercises that I learned about in the Diabetes group meeting that she could do from a chair while her blisters heal. I also got her some information about Diabetes group meetings and a fellowship group that meets once a week to support one another because she felt like talking to some others with similar struggles might help and give her hope. The physician asked me to call around to area pharmacies to try to locate lamb’s wool to prevent further blisters. I was able to find a pharmacy and ask them to hold it at the front for our patient.

This encounter with this disgusted patient has stuck with me. How can we as churches and faith-based community agencies best support and care for patients who are overwhelmed by their diseases? Her situation brings to light the intimate connection between physical, emotional, and spiritual health. Where are calloused places in our lives that need to be cut away in order for us to spiritually heal and provide space for others to heal?

The Least

2007-06-18T07:50:00.000-05:00

I've noticed, especially in the last couple of weeks, much of the pain that is present in a rural community. I haven't been able to diagnose a cause of it all, but I don't know that I need to. My role, as I see it, is not primarily in diagnosis (though that component is present), but in identification and treatment.

Identification: pain. Lots of it. Everywhere. I have met congregation members who have been to prison, who have lost loved ones to drugs, who have committed crimes I don't want to mention here. Prostitution in Pembroke is too common, and the Syphilis rates for the county are among the highest in the nation. Children come into our daycare with evidence of abuse.

This week, I've been talking to one very distraught mother; her son passed away just a few days ago unexpectedly...probably from drug-related reasons. I was at the church on Saturday morning working on my message for Sunday when I noticed her standing across the road at the cemetery. She was standing by her son's grave. We talked and prayed, and I tried to reassure her. She wanted to change the way those with drug problems get help...and pointed out so many of the problems with the "system."

I'm so glad that the church is not a "system," and I really hope that we don't become one. In the midst of all of this pain that surrounds me, I realize that the church surrounds those in pain. The faithful people of this community come, week after week, when things like these keep happening. Healing occurs here, at the church. Thanks be to God.

This week, I've seen firsthand how the church as surrounded the family of this distraught mother. Also, they've surrounded the pastor and his wife. See, last Friday, our pastor had a heart attack, and is currently hospitalized. He's okay, and we thank God for that. The love poured out by the congregation has been immense. Our prayer-time during yesterday's worship service was particularly powerful. Some of the children made a giant card and went around the church getting everybody to sign it.

Isn't it wonderful that the love of Christ can sustain us in these difficult times? Isn't it wonderful that the Church is a beacon of hope in a dark world? I give thanks that God is found with the least...and I give thanks that--if we're the least--God is with us the most.

words, telling the truth, and thin theology

2007-06-13T09:52:00.000-05:00

I'm revisiting the big topic that is in some sense the topic of the Modern church in America: the Christian Gospel (let us be explicit: "Jesus is Lord") is about more than what happens to me after I die. It's also about more than me. (We've already discussed it here in this post.)

But how do you teach that in a way that is more constructive than deconstructive?

Yesterday in one day I had two different, but equally frustrating experiences of the way our culture (our church culture) has watered down the strength of the faith.

***

I went with the senior adults (a smallish group) to visit the "talking murals" at a church an hour or so to the North. The murals were interesting--quite nice, really, and a surprisingly vibrant thing to see in a rural church. But after we looked at the murals and listened to the presentation, this pastor walks out with a big stack of materials (and a giant Bible--which he never opened--ah how I love the prop Bible) and proceeds to explain how to make a "wordless book"--you know, the little homemade evangelistic tract made of different colors of construction paper (black, red, gold, etc.) to symbolize the "plan of salvation." And then he pontificates about how you have to ask people if they have made a decision and invited Jesus into their heart, and he suggests that these seniors need to share the wordless book with someone before the summer is up. (Or else what? I mean, does that mean that their 80 years have been worthless before they found this brilliant salvific technology?)

It seemed like he went on for ages--and I had to bite my tongue, because I got really angry. Nothing seemed to phase the group. Afterwards they all said, "Oh, well that was pretty!" But I kept thinking about how crassly manipulative and wrong the impromptu sermon was. I wanted to tell everyone, "Look, you can ignore everything that guy said." But as it turned out I didn't say anything because I realized that they weren't too worried about it. They have probably seen it before. I am young, and occasionally hotheaded. They have the peace that comes from age.

***

Last evening was our third night of Vacation Bible School. It has been a lot of fun. I love spending time with the kids.

Can you tell the truth by lying? This is an old question, and not as easy as you might imagine; it hangs on quesions of what language is and does. An old professor gave this example: a kid kicks his brother. You ask, "Did you just hit your brother?" Now strictly he could say, "No," insofar as "hit" may imply the use of the hands and not the feet, but it may be more truthful for him to say "Yes."

I bring this up because I feel like a lot of adults lie to kids by simplifying Christian concepts for their level of comprehension. Last night at VBS the theme was "courage." I can't tell you how many times I heard people equating courage with bravery, with facing your fears. That's all well and good, but it is only vaguely connected with the Christian virtue of courage. Bravery is for the soldier, but courage is for the martyr. I know that's a little too deep for the younger kids, but I figured I could broach it with the 5th graders. They didn't even know what a "martyr" was.

Perhaps my queasiness here just means that I'm not the best person to teach younger kids. Because--back to my lying question--I don't think that you should hide the concise but complex theological terms that the Church has chosen over the centuries. Kids may not understand it all--and we should do our best to explain--but I wonder if it is not better to leave it incomprehensible and intact--for the time when they can understand--than to water it down and risk them understanding wrongly. Because that can lead to that weird place in which adults realize that things aren't exactly like they were taught as a child--and so it all falls apart. Furthermore, if language actually shapes our understanding (and I tend to believe that it does, as does the old Christian maxim, lex orandi lex credendi), then shouldn't we use the best language possible as we are forming young disciples?

Please forgive this long and directionless post. I am developing what my supervisor calls a "VBS hangover."

It Has Begun!

2007-06-12T17:46:00.000-05:00

I'm back!

Some three and a half weeks ago, I posted my first note on this blog -- and announced that before I began serving at my field-education placement, I was headed to the Middle East (Syria, Jordan, Egypt, Israel, and Greece)!

Well, my incredible trip has come and gone, and I have finally arrived in Charlotte, NC as the summer intern at South Tryon Community Church (STCC)!

I must say, the trip abroad was incredible. Absolutely incredible. I experienced God in so many different ways!! I could spend all day reminiscing, so I'll just mention one God-filled moment. While in Egypt, I (along with 35 other seminarians and laypeople) was given the opportunity to climb the mountain that, for thousands of years, believers have recognized as Mt. Sinai! As I stood at the foot of the mountain (at 2am, mind you) and stared at the sky -- my knees felt wobbly and weak. The beautiful curve of the mountain, the perfect placement of the stars, the stunning darkness of the night, the crisp smell of the dust-filled desert air -- it was all too much.

How could I stand in the presence of God? Because that's exactly what I was doing.

And then it hit me (just before I headed up the mountain to watch the sun rise) -- I stand in His presence EVERY day. Every single day. Every moment, every second. Though I am unworthy -- God invites me to stand in awe of His presence, His goodness.

And I've been ever reminded of that truth here at STCC. Today a few church members walked with me through the community that neighbors the church. I passed out a few fliers and talked to a few people -- introduced myself -- ya know. And again, I felt that wobbly-knee-sensation.

As I saw the many homes in the community, saw children playing, met mothers and fathers of the community, and as I passed one home and smelled dinner cooking -- I realized that this community of people is ALSO a might show of God's presence. And I, though unworthy, have been called to enter into this community to serve and be served.

I am SO incredibly glad to be here at STCC and am crazy-nervous AND crazy-excited about what God has in store!

balance

2007-06-11T07:38:00.000-05:00

Bible School is coming along well – I think!I guess I won’t know until it is finished.I am enjoying having lots to do. Although I do not get to be with people in the church as much as I would like since I feel this push to get bible school done.I am not really a very good details person.I am more of a big idea person who can come up with what to do, and is happy to let others do it. That is sort of what I am doing here, but I need to make sure all the details are covered…and that is making me nervous!I know God is in here somewhere- but the old cliché about who is in the details is probably really true. So, it makes it harder to see God when you are nit picking about making sure there will be enough tacky glue for the Saturday project for bible school weekend.

The details.

I spent some time with a pastor/ friend this week who pointed out the obvious to me about what I was doing detail-wise this summer.How terrible and wonderful to have someone in your life who will point out the underbelly of your hard work.Show you where you are making it about you and not about God.I have to say it was hard to take.But at the same time who else would do that?Ah, no one.That’s who.Holy friendship as our good Dean Jones points out is a tough job.She is holding me back to be sure.But only so that I stop and see my beautiful family; so I stop and remember to read a book for fun this summer (shudder at the thought); so I stop and maybe see the really beautiful opportunities that are waiting for me, but that can be accomplished in a way that leads to Sabbath – to resting in God.Rather than frittering away my salvation like some puritan on a mission, I should see that God is in the details… and be at peace.The thing is, the people I want to serve (someday and the ones I am working with this summer) need me to be the kind of pastor who does see God --- and not a pastor who is anxious about every little thing or who is too ambitious to notice who this is really all about.

Two weeks ago I was blessed to serve my family communion.I had never done that before.I pressed the bread first into the callused hands of several farmers: “The body of Christ broken for you.”reminded me of Dr. Lischer’s book so much.Then the middle aged widow of the country doctor whose eyes were so incredibly blue and so incredibly sad: “The body of Christ broken for you.”And I thought, “The communion of saints, here for you.”Then my little family came up like stair steps.I bent down to give four year old Dave bread, “The body of Christ, broken for you,” I said.“Tanks” he said quietly, seriously.Then Luke so grown up with a big sweet grin and “Amen” just like the adults.Then Susanna.“The body of Christ broken for you,” I said trying at this point not to cry.But instead of “Amen” she said, “Please Mommy, give me a big piece.I am really hungry.”

And I think that is the message that my friend has been trying to teach me over the last couple of years, and part of what my supervisor is trying to teach me this summer.While I want immersion in this experience of ministry, the reality for me is that I am mostly someone’s mommy.I am called to be a pastor to rural church folk.I am also called to be a pastor but, mostly a mommy, to this little band of raga-muffins who call me "Mom."

I didn’t give Susanna a bigger piece of bread than I gave anyone else that morning…but I need to remember to give her as much Christ as she can stomach – and for a while more of me than I give others.It is a delicate dance.But – if in ministering to the world, I forget to minister to my family, what will be gained? What kind of life am I modeling for others? If instead, we can live into this fish-bowl of a life together, then surely God will see to it that there is enough of me and enough of Christ to go around. It is about abundant life - not a burned out life.

I am starting to get it.Thanks be to God for pastors who care to spend a lot of their time nurturing others (when I know there was a sermon to write) for nothing more than love of neighbor and love of God.Grant that I can learn these lessons well enough not to forget them in the midst of the details or in the flush of success. Maybe this is a lesson only for second career students, but I really don't think so. I wish for all of my friends in field ed - the joy of an immersed experience this summer - and for those of us with families - the joy of both serving and living sabbath.

Annual Conference: The State of the Christian Church

2007-06-09T19:04:00.000-05:00

I attended South Indiana Annual Conference in Bloomington this week. The image you see on the right is a picture an amazing group of Duke Divinity School alums who serve in the South Indiana Conference.

The biggest issue on the table this week was whether to merge the two conferences in Indiana – “Imagine Indiana,” it was called. The Indiana Area of the United Methodist Church has been divided into a North Conference and South Conference since 1968, with one bishop serving both conferences. What this means is that there is one bishop overseeing two cabinets, two lay leaders, two councils on ministries, two councils on finance and administration, two boards of ordained ministry, two boards of laity, two conference staffs…and all the other duplications that my Methodist brothers and sisters can identify. At annual conference this week, the recommendation by the Imagine Indiana Planning Team was for a new conference to be created in the state of Indiana.

After an hour of intense discussion, during which people argued for and against the proposal, delegates voted on the Planning Team’s recommendation. The results released showed that both Conferences voted in favor of uniting to form one conference: 78% voted for the plan in the North and 67% in the South. This is, indeed, a gigantic step in favor of moving forward to form one Indiana conference. This new conference could meet as early as 2009.

After Annual Conference I could not help but reflect on the state of the church. My reflection began with the words of Jesus in John 17:21 – “that they all may be one.” There is a Christian obligation to achieve Christian unity. This is a very sensitive and complex subject. Nevertheless, I am forced to believe that Christian unity should not consist of a mere acknowledgement of “one God,” but also “one body…one faith, one baptism” (Ephesians 4:4-6). Our biggest setback as the people of “one faith,” is our fragmentation into a multiplicity of “denominations,” “movements,” “conferences,” “fellowships,” … the list goes on. Christian unity has become a utopian vision limited to “academic discussions.” No matter how eloquent or sophisticated these discussions are, if all we have are theoretical considerations but not a pragmatic approach to unity, we become another version of a bird trying to fly with one wing – it moves around in circles, i.e., if it is lucky enough to get a lift. One should visit these “denominational” websites and observe the different groups (or should I call them “sects”) that exist even in a particular denomination. There is, indeed, a heavy weight of Christian sectarianism.

Both of the verses cited above (John 17:21, Eph. 4:4-6) connect Christian unity to God’s unity. Thus, with the proliferation of Christian denominations – all having different practices and doctrines – it may not be farfetched to say that Christian disunity is (or looks like??) practical polytheism. We have to reaffirm the unity for which Jesus prayed for his followers – a unity which is based on God’s love. When we are united in God’s love, “everyone will know that you are my disciples” (John 13:35). Not only do we have to reaffirm our belief in this unity, but as Christians, we have a fundamental duty to realize this unity.

the saints

2007-06-07T12:59:00.000-05:00

One of the simple joys of this summer has been the experience of living with members of the congregation and spending time with their friends and family. It typifies why I wanted to do field ed: while I have always felt drawn to the more visible aspects of ordained ministry (teaching, leading worship, administering the sacraments), I haven't know what to think about the more subtle moments which fill the rest of the week, all of which involve people. You see, I am not what you would call a people person. Large groups of people tire me. (And that, he says with a kind of understatement, is the definition of introversion.)

Perhaps I am not very talented at self-description; that, or: introverted and extroverted are not especially intelligible terms in the life of the Church. The point is, these folks are wonderful. It's not like every moment is the most exciting thing in the world, but every moment is a gift. I've written in the last few posts about children's activities, but today I had lunch with my host and his friend, an 88-year-old named Harry. I feel, half an hour later, almost buzzed, because I was in the presence of a saint. This gentle man didn't say anything terribly profound: for a couple of hours we talked mostly about gardening, but also a little bit about food and Billy Graham (he was on his way to the new museum). Bob later told me a couple of stories of how Harry had influenced people.

My impulse, as we left, was to kiss his feet and ask for a blessing, because I thought somehow that he was a sort of icon, a sacramental presence of the Kingdom in the world. I didn't, though in a way I did get a blessing as he said he would "talk with God about me."

Almighty God, by your Holy Spirit you have made us one with your saints in heaven and on earth: Grant that in our earthly pilgrimage we may always be supported by this fellowship of love and prayer, and know ourselves to be surrounded by their witness to your power and mercy. We ask this for the sake of Jesus Christ, in whom all our intercessions are acceptable through the Spirit, and who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

you never know what to expect

2007-06-06T08:41:00.000-05:00

Exempli gratii: I had no idea that I would get a flower arrangement my first Sunday here because I drove the farthest. But it happens.

Last Sunday I tried to teach the kids "you are what you eat" as a way of thinking about Holy Communion. I had my celery stalks which had drunk a good deal of blue food coloring. But when I asked what the difference was between the blue celery and the normal celery, the response was, "This one has more leaves. Can I eat it?" Ah. Charmers, aren't they? Tonight I get to talk to them about the armor of God, which I'm pretty sure is going to be one big Play-Doh fest.

My laptop broke. And yes, I am a child of technology and feel completely helpless right now. What am I going to do, read? Well maybe, and do more planning (more children's stuff, a "normal" sermon, and some prayers). Unless the Gideons come by again and instead of telling them the pastor's out I accidentally open my mouth and say something about how strange it is that their Bibles don't have Tobit and Wisdom.

Quick Update

2007-06-04T21:54:00.001-05:00

A Joy: Sunday was wonderful. I sat in on the young adult Sunday school class, and we talked about Amos and social justice. The discussion got quite heated, and I think some folks learned some things. I got pretty agitated when folks started in on the "God helps those who help themselves" gig...but we rectified that situation quickly. Worship was also a delight. We celebrated our past and present Sunday School superintendents and talked about fishing for people (I brought along a fishing pole for the kids).

Make sure you use the right term: I don't have any hard data on how often Duke Divinity Field Education Interns see the need arise to use a synonym for "buttocks" in their day-to-day ministry, but it can't be that often. Well, I used one particular synonym today, and got in a little bit of trouble. It all started when I saw, upon arriving at the church this morning, that the children from the daycare had assembled for a storytelling/singing time in the church sanctuary. I ran for the guitar, and led the group in a couple of songs. We sang ah-la-la-la la-la-le-leu-ia... (you know the one? It's kinda hard to communicate without actually singing it for you)...and lots of the verses like "hug another neck," "clap another hand," "Jesus is a friend," etc. One of the favorites was "bump another rump." I must admit, the rump-bumping verse was my favorite verse in those pre-elementary years.

A little later in the day, after lunch, Sister Sandra, who directs the daycare, came up to me and asked "are you gonna be offended if I ask you a question?" "Well, that depends on what it is," I replied, jokingly. She kindly, and quite seriously asked me not to use the word "rump" in front of the children.

Oops.

She laughed a little, and explained that there was one preschool teacher who didn't approve of that term..."I know," she said, "it's silly." As I tried not to roll onto the floor, Sister Sandra explained that she too thought that this was silly. Apparently, the daycare prefers the term "bottom." Bottom! Even "butt" is okay! Hmmm. "Bump another bottom, bump a bottom next to ya" just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it? I'll be leaving that verse out from now on, I suppose. I'm perfectly willing to respect other's wishes when it comes to the language their children use...I guess, in this case, I'm just...amused, very amused.

It's a good thing that the daycare doesn't cook rump roast for the children at lunch time. What would they call it? "Bottom roast?" Eww.

fight over the flag

2007-06-01T12:29:00.000-05:00

Okay – I was not going to write about this – but then Grace said something about it yesterday during our evaluation/reflection time and now I think I do want to write about it. Yesterday when she asked why I had not written about it - I said it was because I thought it bothered her more than it bothered me since she was the person in the hot seat – but now I think it is actually bothering me enough to at least need to process it.

It is a flag thing. Should the flag be in a church? By flag I mean THE FLAG – of the United States of America, Old Glory. If you do not vote the right way – you are a socialist. If you separate church and state, you are a socialist (that is bad, btw). If you are the pastor and you separate church and state…I cannot repeat what you are called. For this part of the state (I mean John Edwards’ big new house is in this county)…it is divisive as you have lots of political and theological diversity. How do you navigate these waters without offending the very people you are trying to teach and help form? How are we to be in community as the Body of Christ without hurting people who have given their bodies (or the bodies of fathers and husbands) in order for us to have the freedom to worship as the Body of Christ? Where is God in this conversation? And what to do when this conversation reveals who you really think God is and what you really think Church should be. Are we the rotary club or a church? What is the difference? Or rather …how do we teach the difference without dishonoring veterans and their sacrifice? Any thoughts on this?

Do you know where you will go?!

2007-06-01T11:40:00.000-05:00

One thing I’ve been struggling with at Sandy Plains is how preoccupied many people are with heaven, hell, the devil, and “getting saved.” My first Sunday, as I sat towards the back of the sanctuary, I heard one woman share a prayer request during our customary prayer-request time. She asked for prayers for the husband of a friend who had passed. Apparently, he died sometime early in the morning, just a day or two before. She shared concern for her friend, who said that her husband “wasn’t saved.” She tried to comfort her friend by saying “You don’t know that. The Lord could have been working on his heart between the time you went to bed and the time he passed.”

Other members of Sandy Plains have shared some the same worries about “un-saved” relatives and friends. As I believe in the extraordinary healing power of Jesus Christ, I too share worries about friends who don’t know that power. I see God as the power to transform lives, to heal our broken places, to make us servants so that we can be instruments in bringing the just kingdom of God to fruition here, in this realm. Yes, here, at Sandy Plains, in Pembroke, Robeson County, eastern North Carolina, God’s will be done, “on Earth as it is in heaven.”

So, sure, I get a little concerned when people don’t know Jesus…but I don’t usually think about it in terms of an eschatological location. I’m more concerned when the church down the road sponsors a drama like Judgment House, which seems designed to scare the hell out of people. This can’t be good. Around these parts, it seems that many folks are far more concerned about eternal this-or-that than they are about here-and-now discipleship.

I’ve thought about a couple of explanations for this kind of “scary as hell” thought.

• One, I think, is economic. The area of Sandy Plains has been, historically, an area with a low-income population. Perhaps a preoccupation with the next life, where there will be streets of gold and a mansion for every believer, comes from conditions of great need. Why wouldn’t the hungry be ready for the heavenly banquet?
• Another reason might be the kind of denominational influence in the surrounding community. I pass at least four or five Baptist churches of the free-will/fundamentalist variety on the way out to Sandy Plains. I’ve been told that there are tons more of these fundamentalist-type-churches than Methodist-type churches in the area, and folks are influenced accordingly. Everyone has family members and friends who go to other churches.

Well, I don’t know what to think or do about it all. Maybe I shouldn’t do anything. After all, it is certainly not my place to correct theology at a time of intimate need. It seems like the nice thing to say is that “there’s room for both of these views” or to try and find some middle ground. I most certainly wouldn’t pass judgment on something as important as one’s eschatological outlook, but I must disagree with it, even if silently. So far, I’ve been keeping my mouth shut about the issue, but I’m sure that sometime soon someone is going to ask a question that’s too direct to get around. What will I do then? In the meantime, I suppose I’ll pray for grace.

The Radical Message of Jesus!

2007-06-01T08:23:00.000-05:00

I went with Rev. Pickering, pastor of Care and Nurture at North UMC, to visit RJ (name and identity withheld) in the hospital last week. RJ is a regular at North’s soup kitchen – Bread-N-Bowl – held three times a week to feed the poor. RJ, a homeless man, was accidentally shot in a drive-by-shooting incident that occurred across the street from the church about two weeks ago. During our visit, RJ was in immense pain. He gave vent to his frustration with a system that shows little or no sensitivity toward people who are not well off. He complained about not receiving his medicine. No one seemed to care or show any sensitivity toward a person in great agony, suffering from several gunshot wounds. RJ expressed his desire to leave the hospital, even though he was a homeless person. “I will get out of here if I could walk or get one of them wheel chairs,” he said.

In addition to the many words that he said to us, RJ passed a comment that has caused much reflection over the past week. “Somebody getting paid anyway,” he remarked! That RJ was in a hospital where workers were paid to take of people like him – people coming off the streets with no insurance – and yet having no one to empathize with his cry of anguish was, for him, an almost incredible tale of hope and tragedy.

It would be difficult for all of us to imagine RJ receiving such treatment if he was the CEO of a Fortune 500 corporation. It is to a society like ours – one in which the cry of the needy is neglected – that we must, with conviction, proclaim the radical message of Jesus:

I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see thee hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to thee?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not to me.’” (Matthew 25:42-45) – RSV

Jesus regards that which is done to “one of the least of these,” as done to himself. He does not ask what we have felt or thought, but what we have done or left undone in our dealings with “one of the least of these,” not the kings nor people usually in position of honor, but the afflicted ones – people like RJ. Jesus identifies himself with the suffering human race, and shows that in neglecting to perform acts of charity to the afflicted, we disregard, despise, and dishonor him. In our neglect of “the least of these,” we are neglecting Christ; when we show no love, no sympathy, no pity, we would not have ministered to the one who claimed: “foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head” (Luke 9:56). Love looks to Christ, and rests in Christ as its ultimate center.

Is it preposterous to think that Christ, even now, dwells incognito among us, wandering among us, disguising himself as the poor, sick, distressed, disabled, suffering, and oppressed. He is not concerned about how we feel, or what we think about the “least” among us, but what we do to and for them. Everyone who ponders this finds that it is radical! It is to this radical service that the Christian community is called.

The more I ponder the life and radical message of Jesus, the more I wonder if there is, indeed, a rigid dichotomy between having a conversion experience and disrupting the status quo. The two are beginning to seem interconnected, like the two beams of the cross!

Today I met Joe....

2007-05-30T08:16:00.000-05:00

Today I began to claim my pastoral identity. I spent the entire afternoon visiting members of the congregation in their homes, and doing this made me feel completely alive. This is not to say that all of it was happy and wonderful, though. When I left one particularly run-down nursing home, I had to swallow hard to keep from crying. There were so many people who were lonely and in need. But Rev. Mark Fentress worked hard to remind me that while we can’t change every situation or keep people from feeling lonely, it is our job to go and visit and bring God’s love to the people.

Meeting Joe was the high point. Joe is a widow of about 85 years old, who still lives independently. I could tell from the minute I stepped into his foyer that he was excited to have a young person come visiting. We chatted and shared bits and pieces about our families. He showed me pictures of his wife and even pulled out the program from when he played football at the University of Alabama. We connected and enjoyed each other greatly. Finally, when it was about time for me to leave, Joe got a serious look on his face and asked, “Well, young lady, when are you going to be preaching?” I told him in a week or so, and he handed me a pen and asked me to write down the details. “I’m going to come and hear what you have to say,” he declared.

How affirming! While some of the Duke interns have no fear of preaching, I must share that I am a bit intimidated. While I trust God to work through me, I also realize that my preparation and insight will play a big part. To hear that someone like Joe is excited to hear a young person (and even a woman!) preach, reminds me of how important and exciting my task is.

I return to my sermon writing with a renewed vigor. While I understand that Joe rarely, if ever, makes it to church, I will write with him in mind. And I just might call Joe and ask if he needs a ride to church on the morning I preach.

To have the opportunity to share hope and God’s love, whether through visitations or preaching, is a wonderful blessing.
I feel blessed that God has called me to spend my entire life doing these things.

dinner and kids

2007-05-30T07:58:00.000-05:00

A couple of things:

1. It's not so much that I am bored (I have plenty to do and plenty to read), but I'm a little confused as to why the mass of promised invitations to dinner have yet to materialize. On the first day practically everyone I met promised that they would have me over, but so far I haven't gotten any invitations (aside from the people I live with). Hmm. Time is ticking, eh? I suppose I could do the sneaky thing that bad pastors do and slip it in a prayer somewhere, [begin Brother Maynard voice from Holy Grail] "Almighty God, we give thanks to thee for all the people who have issued preliminary invitations to thy servant, knowing in thy mercy that thou shalt remind them of the fruits of bearing false witness..."

2. This week's task is childish--err, for children? Do you have to be childish to do a children's sermon? Anyway, I have to start doing children's sermons, and I also have to get ready to teach the 5th graders at VBS in a couple of weeks. I've never done a children's sermon, and I haven't really seen them done in the last couple of decades, so I'm starting from the model that Matt (the pastor) has given the past couple of weeks. This week is odd--there's a guest musical group and we're honoring the graduates, so there's no sermon, but there is Communion. Right now I'm thinking I'll talk to the kids about Communion. If I were exceptionally bold (and I'm not) I would find a way to tell them about Athanasius, but as it stands I'll be lucky to get in even the weakest form of "you are what you eat."

something stinks

2007-05-29T20:46:00.000-05:00

Something stinks in our garage. We think we know what it is – but we have yet to clean it up. You see – about six months ago (don’t judge me) I let the kids play with flour in the drive way. We were out of the play sand and it seemed like a fun idea at the time. Flour is food. Food spoils. A while back I figured out that some of the flour had been mixed with water and turned into a paste and that that paste had spoiled somewhere in the bowels of what is the toy section of our messy garage.

Okay – so to the point of this blog…where is God in my stinky garage? I am not so sure – but I do see in myself a need for a kind of spiritual discipline where I am able to be both a student of theology – as well as a mom who cleans her garage once in a while. And for those of you who know me, even a little, you know I would rather write a paper, or teach a bible study than clean anything.

There is a need for balance in life…and when you are out of balance, things can begin to stink.

I have been gone from home for a lot of wonder-filled hours today…talking to people, meeting new people, eating dinner at Anathoth and now I need to go snuggle kids, say prayers, and sing songs.

I have a lot to learn about balance. But for tonight, I am going to do bedtime, and then go have a pretend date with my husband and watch a movie. Maybe I will get to the garage tomorrow.

transparency

2007-05-28T17:33:00.000-05:00

Sunday was a pretty busy day considering it is a holiday weekend and many people were at the beach. The sanctuary was not as full as last week’s homing service – but it was easy enough to get the people to circle the room for “We are the Church.” The children played the wind and fire of Pentecost and enjoyed running into the sanctuary waving colored paper to represent wind and flame. I helped with prayers and litany – although in spite of knowing better, I stilled managed to “squash people” (gesturing for people to sit rather than inviting them to sit) when I asked people to be seated…everything takes practice I guess. The sermon was about the need to feel the intensity of the presence of the Holy Spirit – proclaiming out loud what for me is an urgent need to become a pastor – to share the good news of God and Church. I want to be good at it right now…but I am learning that the most important thing I need to be able to do is move aside and let God do the work. Be present but transparent. If I don’t learn how to do that – then I am likely to spend the next thirty years “squashing people” instead of letting God lift them up!

This week has been interesting as I shadowed Grace attending meetings and visiting many of the people in the community. One particular visit stands out from the week – a lady in a near by nursing home who will turn 91 today. She has severe osteoporosis and is unable to move very much. She is depressed at the prospects of not being able to leave the nursing home. She was under the impression her hip was out of joint and that once she had recovered she could go back home. She has been living with her younger brother for the last several years (he is in his late seventies) and she thought she would be going home once her hip was better. When Grace and I came to see her – she was obviously in pain. It was clear to her that she was not getting better.
We also visited the home of a family grieving the loss of their husband and father. At 55, he was too young to die. There was a lot of suffering going around. Grace lived up to her name and her appointment, being both present yet transparent for those in need. She was able to chat and comfort. Her presence was very much larger than herself as God filled the spaces and grieved with those suffering loss.

I know it takes practice and discipline to be able to let God fill a space through your presence and words. How beautiful the hands and feet. I saw God in the faces of a grieving widow, and a dying saint and in the hands of a pastor.

what a great start....

2007-05-26T20:10:00.000-05:00

My first week as an intern at Bethany UMC in Summerville, SC has drawn to a close I can honestly say that I have done and seen more than I ever could have imagined in 7 short days. They say that a pastor participates in all aspects of life from baptism, to confirmation, to marriage, and then onto burial. After tomorrow, I will have observed and participated in all of these occasions. While things will not always be as busy as they were this week, I was glad to have the opportunity to dive in with both feet.

My supervising pastor, Rev. Bob Howell, has been kind enough to allow me to shadow him in all that he does. Rather than working on any one thing in particular, I spent this week observing and learning. I have truly begun to gain a sense of what the senior pastor of a large congregation does. We have had many thought-provoking conversations. I am asking lots of questions and receiving good answers based in a lifetime of experience.

Coming into this summer, I hoped and prayed that this experience would be my chance to claim my pastoral identity. I now feel certain that Bethany will provide me with the perfect opportunity to do this. I will preach my first sermon (and second and third and fourth….) here. I will have a diverse group of mentors to look up to and from whom I will receive feedback. I will do everything that a pastor does, and these responsibilities are already making me feel completely alive.

As we celebrate Pentecost, I can feel the Holy Spirit descending upon me and the people I am working with. I can already tell that this will be a life-changing summer.

the sectarian thing

2007-05-24T12:25:00.000-05:00

I'm a little hesitant to post again already, having not heard from several of our bloggers, and being a little worried that you might think I'm sitting around all day on my computer. (But hey, even busy little interns like me have to make sure they have time to, say, watch Lost.)

I've gotten to sit in on several meetings in the past few days, including the board meeting for the local Communities in Schools initiative as well as, today, the relatively new West Davidson Ministers Association which runs a food program for impoverished children.

This morning we had an interesting question about how pastors should deal with community events (e.g., little league) schedule on Sunday morning. I won't divulge exactly how this group is handling it, but there is a spectrum of responses, from angrily demanding that the organizations cease their use of that time, to complete indifference.

My first reaction, the one steeped in Hauerwas (etc.), is, why are we surprised that something conflicts with church? Being in the rural South, it's easy to forget that the church cannot be totally identified with the community. My second reaction, a more pastoral reaction (but one that might be abrasive nonetheless), is to ask what we are doing wrong in our churches if our own members think of Sunday morning as just one activity among many. That is not a problem that you solve by making angry demands or denouncements. It is a culture that has to be taught and practiced over many years. Our job is not to change the way the local baseball team schedules its games, but to form Christian disciples.

Anyone? What sort of response could you envision? It's also interesting to me that rural communities like Davidson county are confronting this issue that many urban parishes have taken for granted.

Hello from Memphis, TN!

2007-05-23T23:17:00.000-05:00

So it's been interesting reading everyone else's stories and hearing about how the first week is going for y'all! I attended church with my field supervisor on Sunday and had my first official day at the Church Health Center on Monday. Its sanctuaries are the clinic exam rooms and waiting rooms or the Hope and Healing Center's exercise rooms and cooking classrooms. It's been amazing to observe and participate in some of the many ministries this week. I'll tell you more about them later...

My supervisor and I pondered for some time about what my title on my nametag should be. Though they've had numerous interns work in the clinic, dispensary, public relations, physical therapy, and health promotion, this is the first time that they have hosted a seminary student. I'm going to be working in many different areas of the agency, and while everyone seems to be excited that I am here, it's clear that most folks are not quite sure what my role should be. With my interests and vocational discernment, I've never really fit into nice, neat categories, so this is pretty familiar territory.

We finally decided on Ministerial Resident. What do y'all think?

Down a Country Road

2007-05-22T18:51:00.000-05:00

Sunday morning was a whirlwind of new faces and experiences. I got up early and drove the thirty-minute drive from my house to Sandy Plains Church for the first time. In my CD player, M. Ward played some soothing rural-sounding music, and it was early, so the sun was casting its warm rays against the sweet-corn fields and old tobacco barns that line the roads to Sandy Plains. There are signs of the culture, too: feathers, dream-catchers, and the like were common among the cars I passed, and I crossed over the Lumber River several times along the way. Small businesses along the way also give some indication of the culture in the area—there’s the Lost Colony Trading Post, for one, and signs for Lowry’s Luxury Suites, Bear Swamp Baptist Church, and an old sign for The Law Offices of Locklear, Jacobs, Hunt, and Brooks.

Sandy Plains Church lies just north of Pembroke, NC, and is in the heart of “Lumbee Country.” Most everyone who lives in the area is a member of the Lumbee tribe. I already know that much of this summer will be spent learning about the Lumbee, and about those specific people who call themselves members of Sandy Plains. Historians believe the Lumbee to be descendents of the Hatteras and Sir Walter Raleigh’s “Lost Colony” of 1587. Others think that the Lumbee descended from the eastern Souix, and some see the Lumbee as an amalgam of races.

On the way out to Sandy Plains, I couldn’t help but notice the land, and connect—in my own mind—the Lumbee people to the land in an intimate way. What was a hunch on the drive over has borne out into reality—a little historical research confirmed my suspicions. As the Scots settled the area in the early 1700s, the Lumbee saw that it was necessary to divide up the land and seek official deeds to property that had been cultivated and collectively owned for many years. The names on these deeds are still prominent in the community surrounding Sandy Plains: Locklear, Oxendine, Bell, Cumbo, Hunt, Chavis, Brooks, Jacobs, and Lowry are some of them. Often, a Lumbee is reluctant to part with his or her land; land seems to stay in a particular family for years. As Joseph Michael Smith writes, “no one who really knows the Lumbee people can deny their attachment to the land, their religiousness, nor dismiss the sense of community.” As this week has so quickly passed me by, I've noticed evidence of this strong community bond among the members of Sandy Plains UMC.

Ownership of the land is connected to its natural resources—those early land deeds were marked in relation to the Lumber River, and area swamps, like Bear Swamp. These provided protection, fertile soil, and abundant plant and animal life in the area, and still do. I’ve already met several people who live on land that has "been in the family" for generations. I would guess that members of Sandy Plains are farmers, and many have parents who were farmers--it seems that everyone speaks so naturally about the land.

As I’m getting to know the people of Sandy Plains, I’m learning that they are indeed connected to the land. I am anxious to talk to others here at Sandy Plains—to ask about their individual connections to the land, how it speaks to them—how they speak to it. For the moment, though, I’m content to thank the Creator for the blessings given to us in the rich soil and water still present in our surroundings, for those drives through the country where one feels at one with the earth, and for an introduction to a community pregnant with possibility for learning about ministry.

I see the old, old trees;
and for my people
the woods, the river
and the open fields
are all alive
I live with them
and in their spirit.

I know how to speak to the land
and how to listen
to what it tells me.

I take no more
than what I need from it,
and keep its secrets to myself
because I know,
it will never betray
the heart that loves it.

--“Land of the Lumbee”
by Barbara Brayboy-Locklear
(Lumbee)

Hello, Lexington

2007-05-21T13:16:00.000-05:00

You may have to click and look closely, but yes, they put my name on the little sign in front of the church. And by the way among the other unnamed "guests" was the Bishop.

A few thoughts on the first two days:

I moved in Saturday night, and Sunday morning I showed up for worship and afterwards got to eat a magnificent meal, with fried chicken, countless vegetables, casseroles, and dessert, and of course plenty of sweet tea. I have no idea how I will remember all of the names. No idea. I'm hopeless. The people have been lovely.
Bishop McCleskey of the Western North Carolina Conference (UMC) preached a great sermon. It tickled my Anglican ears because it was about the way repetition in prayer and worship gives us a kind of deep memory that we often don't even know we have.
I think I will survive with the whole worship-band thing and non-weekly communion. I still think of myself as a sort of "young fogey," but that doesn't mean that I can't respect the place I'm in and find Christ in it.
I really like being out in the country, even if I sometimes feel out of place.

sweet tea and promises

2007-05-21T10:25:00.000-05:00

Sweet Tea and promises. That is how I would describe my first day. There was a lot of sweet tea flowing at Cedar Grove UMC as generations gathered for homecoming Sunday. It was a big event. There were muffins in the morning, a worship service with the DS preaching, and then Sunday dinner in the fellowship hall. There were old ladies holding babies (the youngest yesterday was two weeks old, born to a woman who grew up in the church – her husband was a transplant from Efland UMC a few miles down the road). There was singing in the sanctuary – hymns to tell the old, old Story – and general chit-chat and catching up. One lady I spoke to told me “You don’t have to remember my name, I am from New York. I grew up here and always come for homecoming Sunday.” The men talked about the weather, and how badly we already need the rain. They teased each other in front of me about who is in charge of the church; though I am sure they are all a part of what keeps that church humming.

I went to Duke a couple of hours after homecoming to share a meal and witness the signing of the covenant between the Annual Conferences in North Carolina, the div school, and the Duke Endowment – but more importantly – the pastors of the rural churches involved in the Thriving Rural Communities program.

Many people had come a far piece on a Sunday afternoon after leading worship and taking care of their people. It was a testament to their desire for their church and their ministries to go beyond themselves. The commitment to the program is really a commitment to continue to do the things that these churches and pastors have been doing already – but now they will be doing these things together. How Methodist! We ate a meal together – there was more sweet tea. And then we went to worship where the groups gathered re-committed to serve God – but not as an island. These pastors agreed to join together to make a difference together in rural North Carolina. To be in relationship with one another and with a school dedicated to bringing up new generations of pastors committed to the same goal…spreading the good news about the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God to everyone – even to the least of eastern and western NC.

I thought about the older lady at church that morning walking around with a two week old baby, showing her off to all the people gathered for homecoming. The young man from the congregation who came to the event last night sat and talked to me before and after dinner. Converted two years ago (his words), he sees God at work in his life (lost a job Tuesday morning, got a new job at church’s Wednesday night supper! “Can you imagine that?!” he said shaking his head). He told me about the religion classes he takes to know more about God and Church. He described teaching a friend about why children are welcome in worship at his church. His wife was running the church office when I had arrived at work, and his son was the disheveled acolyte for the morning’s service. “My son is the stand in acolyte because, they know he will always be there.” This church has changed the course of his life and the life of his young family.

Those are the people who will be touched by the commitment made by those pastors last night. The people who grew up and live out their lives in rural NC know God will not abandon them. They know God and they love each other. But they need to have assurance that their church will not abandon them. They need resources and holy space to cultivate and grow in God’s love. As mills close and cash crops change, the United Methodist Church has just committed to not only stay in rural NC but also to be a presence on a scale that is larger and more connected than ever before. As Charles Wesley said:

Come, let us use the grace divine, and all with one accord,in a perpetual
covenant join ourselves to Christ the Lord;Give up ourselves, thru Jesus' power,
his name to glorify;and promise, in this sacred hour, for God to live and die.

In Search of Meaning!

2007-05-19T18:03:00.000-05:00

I arrived in Indianapolis last week Saturday to begin Field Ed. My first week at work has revealed some of the many tensions that I will have to wrestle with this summer. In any given day, I could go from feeding and dining with people in a state of virtual penury to being in a meeting and dining with pastors from some of the largest congregations (what sociologists term “civil congregations”) in the city of Indianapolis. I could go from singing with seniors (pretending to know “old-timers”), having a deep conversation with seniors about Western propaganda to a meeting with the youth minister on effective ways to reach this generation. I could also find myself in the “neighborhood” in one minute, but in the next, find myself in an area where king-sized mansions forces one to gasp, “Wow! Now that was impressive! Very impressive!” – Quoting from a TV commercial.
The desire to find meaning in the midst of such tensions is the unending task of all human beings (an even more daunting task for a second year divinity school student). The obsession with “meaning” brings to mind many unanswerable questions that will be continually raised this summer. The questions raised are endless, so much so that one despairs of an answer and feels that instead of asking “why,” it would be more beneficial to concentrate on the “what can I do next.”
More and more, I am beginning to accept these questions not simply as ideas or opinions occurring suddenly in the mind, nor as passive reflections, but as a response directed toward God as its satisfying object. As a response, then, such reflections cannot be lifeless; rather, it must seek to do fruitful labor. The hope is that the search to find meaning would not be separable from actually “getting my hands dirty.” Who knows, maybe some (or most) of the answers might come from being out on the field; not in the locker room! Is that why it is called Field Education?

On the road...

2007-05-18T08:12:00.000-05:00

This is an appropriate location to post my first blog for this summer: I am in the middle of a 19 hour journey from Durham, NC to The Woodlands, TX, sitting in a hotel room near Biloxi, Mississippi. So what are my thoughts? What do I feel about embarking upon this experience? To say the least, I am excited. I get to stop studying about the church and start being the church. However, there is a slight bit of apprehension. It does not stem from being nervous about my ability to preach, or my knowledge of the church. Rather, my apprehension stems from the responsibility that comes from being someone’s “pastor”. I have never had that level of authority and a full year of Church History has made me respect such authority. Each person we studied this year attempted to relate God to a certain age. While studying such history is important, the unrelenting challenge that confronts me is that it is my job to relate God to this age and to the people. While I realize that the task might be too daunting for a student who has just finished his first year of divinity school, I feel a sense of grace in the process. God has sent the Holy Spirit to be with the church, helping it grow and learn; that same spirit will be with me this summer. And when the task is too great (as it inevitably will be) I will have people to help guide me, making sure that I neither think too little nor too much of myself or of my abilities. The truth of the matter is that God is the one who reveals himself to the church, my goal for this summer is to learn how to become a fitting conduit.