Sunday, November 20, 2011

“No matter who you are, or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here”

Attaining diversity and inclusion is not a linear process. As soon as you think you’ve successfully tackled an aspect of prejudice or inequality, you have to go back and assess the situation. We see that in so many fights against inequality in this country. Are we living in a post-racist, post-sexist time? Definitely not, though we’ve made great strides as a nation. It should go without saying, though, that you cannot check off the “anti-racist” box in your search for equality quite yet, no matter who you are or what you believe. You have to keep checking the system.

In the UCC, we pride ourselves in being all-inclusive. When I told some friends about the diversity assessment presented at the Joint Boards meeting this last weekend, their reaction was “well aren’t you already an all-inclusive church? I thought that was kinda your thing.” And its true, our church history is pretty impressive when it comes to prophetic activism. In 1785, a historical strain of the UCC became the first Protestant denomination to ordain an African American pastor. In 1853, we ordained Antoinette Brown, the first woman since New Testament times elected to serve a Christian congregation as a pastor. The UCC’s Golden Gate Association ordained the first openly gay person, Rev. William R. Johnson, as a minister in an historic Protestant denomination in 1972, and in 2005 the General Synod became the first leadership body of a large U.S. church to support equal marriage rights for same-sex couples. That’s a pretty good list of firsts, and is just skims the surface of the UCC’s push for equality and inclusivity in its polity and activism. “No matter who you are, or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here,” is a tag line the UCC wrote and embraces.

So why are we still concerned with justice, equality, and inclusivity in the UCC? Well, I don’t think it can be denied that when one battle of this sort is won, another two present themselves. The UCC did not, and could not, abandon the issues of racism once it ordained an African American pastor. Just because a system no longer actively prevents groups of people becoming leaders, it still may unconsciously (or, unfortunately, consciously in some cases) prevent groups from being molded into leaders. And that’s just one aspect of universal inclusion. In every group, the majority of the people don’t want to necessarily be a traditional “church leader,” but still deserve a church that holds their presence as a thing of value.

This past meeting I think the Holy Spirit called the UCC out a little bit. The Collegium was about half way through their diversity report, when a woman stood up and asked for a point of personal privilege. The room went quiet as she, in obvious frustration, remarked the lack of acknowledgement of people with disabilities in the presentation. When she was speaking, two other women stood up in solidarity with her comment. It was a humbling moment for the whole body, and apologies were gracefully made. Geoffrey Black, the UCC’s General Minister and President, made a good point, though, when he said, “This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation.” Inclusion and equal access is not a linear process. We can’t even hope to name every marginalized group at this point. As the world grows and changes, our dynamics as society change as well. We need to go back and check ourselves to really make a difference.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

A difficult commitment

I'm heading towards a slew of serious commitments-in April I will commit to a seminary, a three to four-year commitment not to be sneezed at. Shortly thereafter, I will be committing to a life of service in ordained ministry in the United Methodist Church (assuming that the United Methodist Church commits to me!). In May, I will be making the biggest commitment of my life, by marrying my fiance of four months. It's strange, then, that the hardest commitment to make this semester, is the commitment to a day off!

Like many who work in a service career, I find it very hard to make myself unavailable to those who ask for help. My personality is over-sensitive, over-empathetic, to the point that I find it very hard to take time to care for myself. Unfortunately, this means that my life has become overworked and over-stressed. Lately, I've been finding that I am less and less able to care for those around me.

As my colleague Kate Rogers mentioned in her post this week, we spent last Saturday watching an ethics training video geared towards spiritual leaders. This video series was filled with memorable stories and advice from a wide variety of leaders, but the quote that stuck with me the most was a statement made by a Methodist pastor in the section dealing with self-care. He countered the spiritual leader's tendency to want to be perfect in love, saying "we are not called to be perfect care-givers; we are called to be healthy human beings, helping other human beings to be healthy."

Still, it took a relaxing and stress-free visit from my mom, along with several mother-daughter heart-to-hearts, to prepare me emotionally to a commitment to one day a week in which I will not touch school work, chapel work, or wedding preparations, and will instead focus on nourishing my own mind, body and spirit.

So, Saturday is my new day off for the rest of the semester. I will turn off my phone; I will tune into the health of my body; I will reconnect with my spirit. I will rest.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Boundaries Ethics Training

Last Saturday, Bethany and I, lead by Jen and Soren, watched a three hour video series called, “A Sacred Trust: Boundary Issues for Clergy and Spiritual Teachers.” The series seamlessly hears from clergy throughout the range of religious practice, from a Catholic Priest to a Buddhist monk, on the variety of issues that inevitably arise when interacting with congregants. The videos impress the idea that, no matter the religious tradition, the role of a clergy person innately carries power and influence that must be monitored. The videos skimmed the obvious no-no’s (No manipulating people, no inappropriate physical relationships with congregants, etc), and spent the majority of the time discussing the more subtle responsibilities of the clergy. In this internship at Marsh, I spend a good deal of time thinking about how to listen to people, respond to their remarks, read between the lines, and initiate helpful conversation and meditation. A lot of the Vocation Care exercises and other education revolve around how to interact with the other person from the view of the other person. These videos, however, turned the discussion on “you,” the leader, rather than “they,” the congregant. They addressed challenges like duel-relationships, the power of the pulpit, and transference by using the narrative of the leader, not the follower. They prompted soul-searching questions like: “Do I get too much fulfillment and excitement by being someone’s confidant?” “Am I pushing my own agenda at the pulpit for a desired result?” “Do I contact congregants because I need the contact?” “Do I need my congregations help and support?” “Who are my friends, and how should I be in friendship with my congregation?”

The different leaders highlighted in the tapes had many different approaches to the questions posed. When it comes to friends, some said one can absolutely not be friends with a congregant, some said they recommended being friendly without spending time with one another, and others made a distinction between social friends, or friends you go bowling with, and personal friends, friends in which you confide your feelings and troubles. Rather than leaning on their congregations, some recommended finding emotional support in therapy, others through spiritual advisors, and a few through clergy contacts. All recommended a variety of self-care models, whether it be strictly observing family time or eating right and staying healthy. There seemed to be a general consensus, though, among all those interviewed, that to be the most effective spiritual leader, one must strive to be a whole and supported individual.

Generally speaking, the videos offered educational, but foreseeable, insight and ideas. For example, while I previously may not have considered the possibility of a congregant botching my eye surgery (or some other less-dramatic duel-relationship), the scenario reveals rather obvious complications. There was one idea, though, which surprised me. The videos encouraged clergy to be very aware of how invested, and the level of enjoyment, they receive through pastoral contacts. They warned against getting too much of a thrill from hearing people’s secrets and offering advise, and suggested making sure congregants can function without pastoral contact meetings. After I thought about it, this definitely makes sense, but I’m very glad it was called to my attention. I think, in the ministry profession, hubris and dependence are very slippery slopes. Loving the job is great, but getting too excited about giving someone the BEST advice, or falling in love with the demand of your presence, are easy ways to neglect the best interest of the congregant. A large part of ministry involves leading people to healthy, safe, relationships, and to do that, an awareness of your relationship to them is pivotal.

Family

Today is a very special day! As I write, my mom is en route to Boston. She's coming to visit me, a visit I've been looking forward to for a long time. Our original plan was to run a half marathon together. We made those plans last semester, before I went to Niger, before I was engaged, and, unfortunately, before my mom injured her ankle. Needless to say, plans have changed!

I can't wait to see my mom. I also can't wait for her to meet my fiance's parents for the first time. Our two families are coming together, a major step in our path to joining lives. This stage of my life is a joyful one as well as an apprehensive one. Both my fiancee and I are shifting roles not only in our relationship with each other, but also in our relationship with our families.

My family is so important to me, and having my parents feel comfortable with my mother and father-in-law is something I want very much. There's little chance that such a wonderful and loving group of people won't get along with each other; even so, I would appreciate prayers for this exciting time.


Thursday, November 3, 2011

A Sunday run...er...walk

I am going to forgo the predictable intro in which I describe my state of stress and anxiety. Everyone knows the story. Which is why, as an "assignment" for the Marsh Associates this week, Jennifer Quigley and Soren Hessler encouraged us to incorporate the practice of keeping Sabbath into our schedule. This is something that has given me no end of trouble in the past. Keeping the Sabbath is a wonderful practice, necessary to reconnect with God, community, and the self; and, unfortunately, something I have not been successful at enacting.

The solution to this problem was apparently being commanded to keep the Sabbath as a part of my internship (believe me readers, I am fully aware of the irony here). And so, last Sunday I set out on my long run for the week. As I was huffing and puffing my way up and down Newton's "gently rolling hills," I realized that even my stress-busting exercise routine was becoming just another appointment to keep. I stopped, caught my breath, and started walking. Then, when walking started to seem too ordinary, I began to stroll.

For the first time in the week, I took time to do absolutely nothing. I took in the scene unfolding around me, the sounds of other joggers, the cars passing on the street, and let it all dissipate into background noise. A half hour later I called my dad and reconnected with my community back home, asking about his life, the well-being of my grandparents, of my siblings. After fifteen minutes of chatting, I settled into a walking meditation. I thanked God for the problems and challenges that keep me sharp, for the lives of others that put my own life into perspective, for the day. Rising on the crest of my prayer, I shook my legs out, and ran home.