Grumpy Old Men

I have an affinity for grumpy old men.

I love 'em.

I don't have a specific age group in mind with "old." Some are actually rather young.

One of my favorite grumpy old men just died.

He was a member of my call committee and loved by many (including me).

He was ready and faced it bravely, making the decision to be put on palliative care himself and to eat sugar (no more Splenda) now that he didn't need to watch his diabetes.

At Christmas Eve he wasn't doing so well and came to worship in a wheelchair. Prior to this he had been quite agile and able to move around well. He had been scheduled to serve communion that night. I approached him and said that we could figure something out if he wasn't able to be a communion assistant. But, he said he wanted to serve. And so he did.

From his wheelchair he offered people the blood of Christ. For some people, that will be their last memory of him.

He was not shy about the fact that going into the interview with me he did not think a young woman could be his pastor. He was also not shy about the fact, that he was proud that they did call me.

Blessings, Grumpy Old Man. Rest in Peace.

Into the wild blue yonder

Uff da. January is tough. It was last year too. There is a lot to prepare. But, more than that, there are a lot of people who are struggling in some way or another. Just when I feel I've been present to one and they are moving forward another one comes. Only a couple are emotionally draining (those with whom I've been close prior to their hardship), but all are time draining.

I find I begin to wait for this time to be over. Something in me senses that once I get past each of these things my work will be less difficult.

There have been two situations in particular that have been difficult. Recently when talking with a friend I mentioned my involvement in my workplace as we attempt to raise and borrow money for a new heating and A/C system (and a few other things). She asked me, "How do you know what to do?" I said, I don't, I just ask people questions and then wing it.

That's what I'm doing in these other situations. I don't know what to do. But, I know I have to do something. I've asked the right people (other professionals who have been trained to deal with this sort of thing) but that doesn't mean that everything will go according to the ideal plan. In some ways it's freeing to say "I don't know what the heck I'm doing." Even if it's just to myself (and this blogging community).

I got an e-mail from a parishioner who has been involved in this heating system stuff who hear a devotion I lead last night that talked about God in the midst of chaos. He mentioned that he forgets that a lot of this is probably new for me too - that I seem so wise and capable that he forgot that this might be new territory for me.

I'm both scared by that and honored. Wow - am I so much of a non-anxious presence that when my anxiety is truly there (like when talking about taking on hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt) I don't show it? Hah! Fooled them.

Jean Therapy

After a long and exhaustive search -

hours upon hours spent,

miles upon miles trod,

stores upon stores scoured,

and failure upon failure.....

I have found store where multiple pairs of jeans fit me!

I only purchased one pair this visit....but, I will return.

(Seriously, the last pair of jeans I was really happy with were found the winter that spanned 2001-2002...and they're falling apart. I've been looking intently for 2 years - and desperately for the last year.)

Alleluia.

Sit

I'm always amazed when it seems like I do nothing whatsoever and people feel like I'm doing so much.

We are doers - so much so that it's depressing for many elderly as they become less and less able to do what they formerly did.

But, I've sat with people a lot recently. Not doing anything...because really, what could I do?

My heart is hurting for some. It's sometimes in my throat for others - or in my stomach for still others. And I can't do anything.

And that's okay.

Today, my office was a safe place to share - earlier this week I was the person who hadn't yet heard the stories a million times - this weekend I'll be one who doesn't shun one embroiled in sin.

In a common confession we confess for the things we've done and the things we've left undone. But, it's not always about doing or not doing something. Although it's not very easy, I feel privileged to do my job by just sitting with another.

A Mirror to my Psyche

It seems that the busier I am, the more I get done and the happier I am.

My mom and I were talking about this phenomenon last night & she mentioned that it means that she doesn't have to figure out what her priorities are, the priorities do it for her.

I think that might be somewhat true for me - people don't wonder why I might not follow through with them in the same manner this week because they know what I'm preparing for. And, so, I'm able to do more reaching out than responding to people's self-prescribed emergencies. Also, actually having to deal with true emergencies helps me to put those other petty things in perspective.

Interruptions to my set schedule are important - it's how I find out a lot. It's part of my job - having time when people know they can catch me.

The other part is that I don't allow myself to get wrapped up in dumb things of my own doing. I'm preparing to have some people over to my house later this afternoon and I have these phone books that I keep meaning to take to recycle. They keep slowly moving towards the door and I don't want to hinder their movement. So, I put them in the corner of the staircase that has room for them and thought I might wrap them up like presents and set something on top of them to be decoration. Well, if I weren't quite so busy I might do that (which would then waste some time that I could use other places). Instead, they'll be (hopefully) covered by a cloth, maybe with something cute placed on top. But, rather than spend any time even considering wrapping - I was able to make a better decision.

I know, silly. Minor. But, a mirror to my psyche. :) (And, there's the title of the post).

A Fly on the Wall

Every once in a while my office's phone messaging system receives a message that seems as if someone accidentally dialed.

I think usually people listen to the really long message and either fade off or think they've hung up when they haven't.

I get a kick out of these calls - and sometimes feel as if I should listen for a little while in case the person was trying to leave a message and then got distracted. There's something somewhat scandalous listening into these snippets in people's lives that they didn't mean to share. Today all I heard was a TV in the background. Sometimes I've heard conversations that I haven't been able to understand any but a few words. I've heard someone scolding a dog and another person singing.

I'm amused by the frequency of these calls.

Breaking Anonymity

I'm frustrated with Blogger right now.

I already have 3 accounts and I was starting a new web page for the new book club I'm in. I didn't want a 4th account - so I tried to make two different names under the same account. Blogger help says I can do it. But nothing I do (even when I think I'm following the directions correctly) is working.

It makes me want to swear.

So, here I am - first name - out there, out in the open. It's such an unusual one, I'm sure my anonymity is completely gone.

Signed,
The Former Amused.

Nerdy

I wasn't really a true nerd in High School or College - I was just shy. I did, however, become a nerd in seminary. So much excites me about the stuff I'm supposed to be studying and teaching and preaching.

Amazingly, I continue to have new revelations - new insights...even if they are sometimes misguided. This entire season of Advent has been one - a new look at what we're actually doing (and it's not that we are awaiting a tiny little baby).

I get to teach about the Bible - the history - the way we read it - the interesting characters in it. It's not just about preaching a message - but about getting others to talk about what it might mean for our lives. It's exciting.

And when we're done in our Adult Bible Study class, we're going to bake communion bread.

I'm so lucky. And, I'm so nerdy. I can really claim it now.

The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same

You've Changed 56% in 10 Years

You've done a good job changing with the times, but deep down, you're still the same person.You're clothes, job, and friends may have changed some - but it hasn't changed you.

How'>http://www.blogthings.com/howmuchhaveyouchangedin10yearsquiz/">How Much Have You Changed in 10 Years?

Saturday Night Theologian

Lately, I've been a Sat. Night theologian. Sometimes (like this morning) not even starting my sermon until Saturday late-morning. I had done a lot of study and thinking prior to this morning, but nothing was being formatted.

It's 6pm. I am almost done w/ my sermon. I've got some Bible Study planning to do. But, I'm feeling ready.

I have yet to be able to tell what makes a good sermon. I mean, I know mine aren't publish-worthy. I don't know that they would ever be. My writing style needs the right emphases and vocal tones - a lot of my sermon is what happens when I'm actually preaching (ad libbing included).

But, every time I think I totally bomb (or, rather, theologically, somehow block the spirit's work) someone comes up and says they think it was a great sermon. When I think I've had a good sermon, there is little to no response. I don't know what that means. Does it mean that people aren't sure what I'm saying? Does it mean that I can't get other people excited about what excites me? Does it mean I'm off base?

I get frustrated because it feels like I can't read my audience. And, because it's my job to connect, to get people thinking, I get frustrated that I can't seem to know how to do that - that I just stumble into it.

Unfortunately, it seems like I have a better success at stumbling into it when I do write my sermons on Saturday night. I'm not sure what that means either.

Day by Day

Sometimes it's a Nocturne by Chopin, sometimes it's the opening chapter of the Gospel of John, sometimes it's a song by an up and coming artist.

Yesterday it was something I can usually count on. Yesterday, I knew God's overwhelming presence through the following hymn:

Day by Day

Day by day, your mercies, Lord, attend me,
bringing comfort to my anxious soul.
Day by day, the blessings, Lord, you send me
draw me nearer to my heav'nly goal.
Love divine, beyond all mortal measure,
brings to naught the burdens of my quest;
Savior, lead me to the home I treasure,
where at last I'll find eternal rest.

Day by day, I know you will provide me
strength to serve and wisdom to obey;
I will seek your loving will to guide me
o'er the paths I struggle day by day.
I will fear no evil of the morrow,
I will trust in your enduring grace.
Savior, help me bear life's pain and sorrow
till in glory I behold your face.

Oh, what joy to know that you are near me
when my burdens grow too great to bear;
oh, what joy to know that you will hear me
when I come, O Lord, to you in prayer.
Day by day, no matter what betide me,
you will hold me ever in your hand.
Savior, with your presence here to guide me,
I will reach at last the promised land.

Ouch, pinching hurts.

A wise friend told me last week that my church and I sound like we are at a "pinch point." From what he said, it sounds like it's the time when we are recognizing each other's weaknesses and having to determine that we are going to deal with them.

I know I've let people down in the last year and a half, and yet for some reason, it seems like right now that is happening a lot. I know I've been let down too, and I sometimes forget that. It took me relating a particular story to my mom and her saying, "well, that's kind of mean" for me to realize that, yeah, it is. I sometimes lack that perspective.

It was actually only one particular instance that seemed to pinch really hard. But, that pinch left a bruise and all of the other little pinches that usually just tickle a little now hurt.

It was good to be with family these past few days, with people who love me no matter what. People I can literally physically lean on. A place where I don't have to wonder what I'm going to feed myself or how close I am to being out of toilet paper. In some ways, a place to nurse my wounds.

My bruise is now just starting to yellow and fade. I'm still sensitive. Last Monday I shared with the council that I had been having a hard week (the week before) - it was good to figuratively lean on them - even if they don't know what all of the weight I'm carrying is - they know that I'm struggling. And sometimes that's all I need.

To let someone else know that I'm hurting.

The picture of generosity

I don't think I even grasp the enormity of the Spirit at work. I can't even begin to express the generosity of people who have nothing.

Today, I preached from the Gospel of Mark - about the scribes who are full of themselves and devour widows houses & the poor widow who gave all that she had (2 coins worth a penny) to the temple's treasury. I focused on the Point of View - or the focus of each character - and that of Jesus.

I've written about our homeless man that is more a part of our congregation than many members. He attends almost every Sunday. He helps out on church work days and comes during the middle of the week to rake leaves or help with other outside labor. He brings tears to my eyes and humbles me in conversation about his faith (and right now as I type). He's kind, considerate, humble, works to hold his temper around some of the other campers - basically he lives with - who drink too much. He likes to sleep outside and feels stifled inside.

Today after the service (and after my sermon about the poor widow who gave everything), he came up to me to shake my hand (like many parishioners do) and told me the following story: yesterday he found himself (for the first time) at a particular agency that works with homeless people. He said that he stumbled upon their board meeting and everyone was invited to it. There were door prizes & he won a digital camera. Would we have any use for it?

We have had a digital camera on our "wish list" for a little more than 1/2 a year. We accepted the camera, and will put it to good use, as he would want us to.

I'm starting to get the feeling that my time here in this congregation is going to be defined more by my interaction with this one man than with anyone or anything else. I am humbled, amazed and inspired by him. I truly see Christ in him, even if he doesn't see it for himself. (We're working on that - on how he embodies Christ's love in the world).

When she told me her grandson had returned from Iraq, the tiny 80-something dedicated saint actually jumped up and down. She's a calm, reasonable woman, but she jumped up and down - and I left with a lipstick mark on my cheek.

I got to hold an 8 month old baby with big blue eyes today. Apparently she loves to dance to Christina Aguliara. Her mom says it's better than Justin Timberlake.

Last night I got to play detective as the Property chair and I walked through the building to be sure no one was camping out there. Apparently a man had been in a back staircase the day we have an older adults group - he ran out the outside door when the "older adult" surprised him. I love church buildings - I could walk around sanctuaries in the dark all the time. Of course, we also had to look through the basement. The Property chair let me hold the flashlight.

Supporting the self-sufficient and secretive

It's not uncommon for people to invite me into their pain and tell me they don't want anyone to know.

Two more people have cancer. Neither wants anyone to know.

Neither wants me to go to any extra effort with them (whether bringing communion to the one who is homebound or going and praying with the other while (or before) her chemo at the hospital).

Both want me to pray.

And, I get it. I think I would be like that too. It is difficult when so many people continuously ask "how are you doing?" with that look of pity in their eyes. It's even more difficult if no one goes to any extra effort to offer care.

I'm not sure how much to push it for these women who have a hard time asking for help. I'll call to check in. Should I ever show up unannounced? That seems like it's going too far.

An off-topic PS - when I spell-checked, one of the suggestions to replace "Chemo" was "Cheney." Well, he does sometimes induce vomiting and loss of hair.

Mob Mentality

I spent a lot of this week standing outside in a crowd of people listening to someone speak/demand/incite.

Yeah, I got to hear Barack Obama (who really does give me hope for our country) and Cindy Sheehan and I got to be part of a symbolic backdrop for something that received little to no press (against reinstating the death penalty).

One of my parishioners regularly asks me where the activist clergy are. He wants someone to lead an outcry against injustice. He wants marches in the streets with angry shouts and rallies. We've had some good conversations around this, especially around the incredible isolation of leadership and need for support for said activist clergy.

But, I also wonder about the climate. I've taken part in marches and gatherings and protests. I believe in using my voice, in gathering people to do so together, bringing a more powerful presence. But, do these protests, do these marches, to these gatherings ever bring about change? It seems reactionary rather than progressive. Couldn't the same amount of energy produce greater results by working for justice in different ways.

Am I just becoming cynical? or worse, lazy? or even worse, ambivalent?

I do get that people are energized by these events. And, a show of support (my main purpose for attending two of these events - Barack was for fun) encourages and gives credence to someone's position.

Maybe I just don't like crowds (and maybe this is a good excuse to avoid practicing my sermon at 9:30 on Saturday night).

Barely contained...

My Canadian pastor friend, Jason, called last night to say hi and to run the concept of his sermon by me. On this Reformation Sunday he, in true Lutheresque mode, decided that the best metaphor for sin is farting.

You know, that sometimes we just can't help it, that it can pervade the room or be silent, but deadly, or be a little toot that no one notices. He also likened it to the fact that sometimes we try to blame it on someone else, or worse yet (my opinion) that we proudly claim it.

So, for worship at my congregation this morning we had a former pastor back to share the Word in continued celebration of our 75th Anniversary year. He also had the children's sermon and started to talk about sin - and that sometimes it just builds up and builds up until you just need to confess- and at about that time I could feel the giggles building up and building up inside me.

He and the parents that were up there with their kids probably just thought I was smiley broadly as he shared the Word with the kids. If only they knew what I was thinking...

Pastor = Me = Friend

I had a really good pastoral day yesterday. Since kids in public schools in this area had off, I had one of my monthly classes - from 9-12...we only got through 2/3rds of what I'd planned, but they were asking good questions and were invested.

Had three intense and good pastoral visits with people - over surgery, death, and theological discovery.

But, I worry. I think one of the same things that makes me a good pastor makes me a good friend. And, when I overuse my good listening and making connections muscles in my job, they're just worn out and weak when I talk with friends.

No matter how interesting, how entertaining, how close I feel to the person, I find myself distracted and not as able to make connections or listen as carefully.

I do, however, bubble over with talking about myself. And so it sometimes becomes a bit of a lopsided conversation.

I guess what I have going for me is that I'm self-aware. At least I know my tendencies.

It's not really what I want to say. But, it's what I can.

My morning was incredibly emotional.

And good.

However, with the exception of how my parents and my sermon were received by my congregation, everything that I really feel like I would want to share is not appropriate for me to share at this point.

So - people were so very nice to my folks. It was an interesting group that gathered around them at coffee hour this morning. Huh. I just realized it was four of the six members of the call committee that were sitting at the table with them for some of the time.

My mom and dad said it was a really interesting conversation - about war and forgiveness (inspired somewhat by my sermon). They had similar impressions of some people as I have (or do). Which was good - reinforced some gut instincts I've had about people.

My sermon seemed to connect to people from various points of view. We held worship in the fellowship hall because our heat hasn't been turned on yet and the fellowship hall is naturally warmer than the sanctuary. I wonder if the space makes preaching more effective. So, now the question is - do I want to do something about that? And if so - what?

Sometimes I hate confidentiality. What I really want to reflect on is confidential. Maybe I should dust of the old paper journal in my nightstand.

Healthy Souls

Had a healing service this am. I had been freaking out a little bit beforehand because I was not nearly as prepared as I should have been. And yet - it was amazing.

Our practice is that people are invited forward to kneel at the altar to receiving laying on of hands and anointing with oil. They generally are asked if there is anything in particular for which they'd like to pray. Usually people have tons of physical ailments and there is never any mention of mental/emotional or spiritual health. Each time we've had one of these things I've mentioned the entirely of health, not only focusing on physical ailments. But, maybe it was my sermon, maybe it was because the building was cold (we haven't turned our heat on yet), maybe it's recognition that we are more than our physical selves - a large percentage of people asked for prayer for a specific emotional/mental or spiritual health issue - either for themselves or for a loved one.

From bi-polar disorder, to impatience, to doubt, to inability to forgive, to feeling betrayed by the institutional church...it was amazing. If you can't verbalize this stuff with God and at church something is not right.

Unfortunately, I also found out that 2 people have recently been diagnosed with cancer and a third is having another test after she's been in remission for a little over a year. Not the way I like to discover that. Ick.