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.

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.

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.

This why I'm Methodist

I was asked yesterday why I chose the United Methodist Church as the denomination in which to become ordained. I gave my tried and true stock answers: I believe in many of Wesley's teachings on service; I am inspired by the work I see the Methodist Church doing in the world; I am excited by the opportunities of service in my conference, etc.

Then I went home, and cracked open The Christian as Minister, one of the required reading materials in the process of becoming Ordained in the United Methodist Church. I was immediately struck by just how much my personal opinions and beliefs mirror the doctrine of United Methodism. I was a little overwhelmed; how often does the intimate murmurs of a single person's heart match up so well to a set of practices and principles set up by an institution? Truly this is where I'm meant to be.

A particular section of the book especially called to me. Entitled "The Meaning of Servant Leadership," it defined the term servant-leader as used by Robert K. Greenleaf, director of Management Research at AT&T. Greenleaf, inspired by a character in Herman Hesse's novel Journey to the East, declared that "a great leader is seen as a servant first." The primary goal of this servant-leader is to "make sure that other people's highest priority needs are being served." He goes on to say that the best test as to whether one is a servant first or a leader first is to determine if "those served grow as persons; do they while being served, become healthier, wiser, freer, more autonomous."

What a wonderful philosophy to apply directly to our lives, not only our career choices. Service to all, mirroring God's infinite love onto our fellow human beings. This is why I'm Methodist.

Missing a friend

Probably ninety nine percent of the readers of this blog know Tyler Sit personally, and I would wager that ninety nine point nine percent of that ninety nine percent have had their lives changed for the positive just by knowing him. The familiar sights of Tyler hurrying from one destination to another, a joyful smile on his face as he sang out a greeting to a friend he met on the way (which happened at least once every five minutes), or frantically working on some worthwhile project for one of his myriad commitments, or chowing down on a bowl of tofu and vegetables almost as big as he is, always brightened my day.

I count myself even more blessed to have shared so many unique and life-changing experiences with Tyler. Studying abroad together in Ecuador, we were able to explore what it meant to be North Americans abroad, face the challenges of culture shock and confusion, and have tons of fun. Nearly dying together in a pitch-black tunnel on a windy mountain road definitely brought us closer.

Back in the States, both our lives revolved around Marsh Chapel, and I increasingly turned to Tyler for fun, fellowship, and a sounding point on the challenges of missions, the ordination process in the United Methodist Church, and just being a whole person.

This summer I was able to see Tyler at the Fund for Theological Education's Leaders in Ministry Conference held in New Orleans. What an amazing experience! Along with the fabulous Kate Rogers, we met intelligent, compassionate young Christians with the same drive towards ministry.

Tyler is now in Atlanta, continuing to love others and grow in Christ at Candler School of Theology. I'm sure he has already become dear to his friends there. Here, he is sorely missed. More than anything in the world, I would love to hear his loving voice ask me: "Bethany, how is your soul?"

Wanderings

As we rapidly progress from summer to winter in New England, we are granted several weeks of exquisite weather called, "Fall."  It is in these days, when the leaves slowly blush from green to orange to red, that nature seems to invite us into its crisp air for quiet meditation.  I often find myself slowly meandering down well-foliaged streets and paths, no destination in mind, in subtle homage to this time of year.

Alternatively, I did some semi spur-of-the-moment exploring in a new town this weekend.  I hopped on whichever bus arrived at the stop I had wandered to, rang the bell when I saw what looked like an interesting area, and ended up across town.  I stepped out of the bus, looked around, wandered a bit.  Realizing I was a lone female in what looked to be a questionable and unfamiliar part of town, I thought it might be advantageous to find a coffee shop and camp out.  I made my way to a delicious little restaurant called "Soul Bistro."  I befriended the wrinkled old chef named Alfredo, discussing the nature of southern food- as he proudly offered up some pan-fried trout almandine.  I settled down in the near empty dining room with my trout and peach tea, pulled out my copy of Durkheim's "The Elementary Forms of Religious Life" and my yet unopened edition of "Christian As Minister."

A bit intimidated by the reading I had before me, I took a moment to  reflect on the vocational discernment meetings I had participated in earlier in the week.  I stumbled upon the realization that I want to do urban ministry, although that's not really a surprise.  I have been wrestling with the idea of finding a place within the church especially.  Feeling like only misery would ensue if I, hippie liberal, began pastoral ministry in the deep south, I wonder where I belong, where I will wander.  And what about my denominational affiliation- I love the United Methodist Church, but there are some major qualms with the current doctrine.  Do I stick around to fight for that change, or do I seek another denomination that seems to be more like-minded? Can I be a part of a whole with which I do not entirely agree?  Can I be intentionally out of place?

And as if on cue, I laid down the open book, sat back, and looked straight ahead.  There in front of me was a giant bulletin board filled with information about the homeless shelters, food drives, food pantries, and rehabilitation programs being started, continued, and operated by the local church community.  So here I was in a northern city eating southern food, an outsider among an insider's community, in unfamiliar territory with steady confident steps.  And God smiled and said, "Silly girl, how could you be anywhere else?"

...Answered

The phrase goes "God works in mysterious ways." Most of the time, I've found that to be true. How could we expect to know the will of a God so far above our understanding? Nevertheless, sometimes I think we catch a glimpse of what God intends for us.

Last week I was frightened and anxious, bent down by all of the pressures of life. I entitled last week's entry "Prayers," and spent the week praying for direction and peace of mind. God answered my prayers through the most obvious way possible, a letter.

No, God and I are not regular correspondents, although I couldn't ever have a better pen pal. The letter I received yesterday was from me to myself, a letter I had written from the Fund for Theological Education's Leaders in Ministry Conference in New Orleans that I attended in July. I was so blown away by how much my prayers were answered through this letter, that I wanted to share it with you. I wrote:

Dear Bethany,

I hope you will remember this conference in a positive light. You shouldn't remember the insecurities you felt, the need to excel personally. Or, maybe you should, but in order to fight against these things, not to hold on to them. You are so blessed. Never forget that. Because you are blessed, you have immense responsibility. You must use your talents and gifts for others. Sitting back because you're frightened, lazy, or lonely is not an option. No matter what you do you must live first for others. You must leave behind pride, ego, fear, and put yourself out there. Don't go for the easy paths. Forge ahead. Do things that are addressing real needs. Ask people what they want. Interact with people. Remember that you are responsible only for your half of the relationship and make sure your half is impeccably Christ-like.

Take time to be alone with God. Pray. Do yoga and meditation. Set aside at least an hour a day for those things. Get up early if you have to. Read the Bible. Make everything you do a prayer. Love generously-yourself and others.

"Give us grace, O God, to dare to do the deed

which we well know cries to be done.

Let us not hesitate because of ease, or the words of men's mouths, or our own lives.

Mighty causes are calling us-

the freeing of people, the training of children, the putting down of hate and murder and poverty, all these and more.

But they call with voices that mean work and sacrifices and death.

Mercifully grant us, O God, the spirit of Esther, that we say:

'I will go unto the King and if I perish, I perish'"

Sometimes, God answers our prayers through the mail. How miraculous.

Note: the prayer at the end of this letter was used for FTE's Leaders in Ministry Conference. It is a poem by W.E.B Dubois, entitled "Give us Grace."

Prayers

Writing an entry this week has been very difficult. The semester has started in earnest, and, like always, I find myself overwhelmed by work, school, and life in general. Although the business of the semester is a little comforting in its sameness, this semester brings the challenges of moving out of my safety zone, and into the great unknown of "adult" life.

Strangely, I find myself starting to do adult things, make adult decisions. I'm moving into the professional world (at a snail's pace) by beginning the ordination process in the United Methodist Church; I'm living mostly independently financially from my parents in an apartment; I'm transitioning into the intellectual adult territory of graduate school; and finally I'm engaged to a wonderful, loving man and find myself on the path to being a wife.

Many of these emerging roles (pastor, wife, adult) are frighteningly foreign. These are things I hardly dreamt of becoming, except in the safely distant future. Suddenly, the future is immanent. I find blessings piled on blessings, and, human being as I am, begin to list my shortcomings, and the reasons why I can't accept them, why I'm bound to fail.

Again, themes emerge in these entries. Themes that crop up in my journey through life, the things I haven't quite reconciled, haven't quite squared away with my psyche. Performance, failure, the overwhelming pressure to do everything and be everything.

So, daily I offer up my prayers. Prayers for peace of mind, for confidence in God, prayers for blessings in my endeavors and in the endeavors of my friends and coworkers. Prayers for a loving and lasting relationship, prayers for the skill, patience, and love that fuel healthy ministry.