Praying for Princeton

“Only the wounded healer can truly heal.” -- Irvin D. Yalom

Compassionate God, descend upon your people of Princeton in our grief. Our hearts break for the woman gunned down outside of Los Aztecas. We mourn her tragic death, and we weep with her family and children. Remind us that nothing -- not even the worst acts of violence -- can separate us from the love of Jesus. Lord, have mercy. 

Prince of Peace, surround the alleged perpetrator and his family with a blanket of mercy. Their lives are also interconnected with ours, and we ask that a web of forgiveness may be woven, strand by strand, when the time is right. Lord, have mercy. 

God of Hope, guide us as the “Why?” of this situation overwhelms us. As we linger with the questions, show us your path of shalom. Remind us how you bore the violence of the world on Calvary so that we might become a new community of peace. Christ, have mercy. 

Risen Lord, reveal to us your scarred hands. Touch the violent places in our lives with your grace. In the midst of our scars, may we bind up the pain of our community. Grant us the wisdom to see that only the wounded healer can truly heal. Guide us on the path of hope. Lord, have mercy. Amen. 

You Are A Promise

“You are a promise; you are a possibility. You are a promise with a capital ‘P.’ You are a great big bundle of potentiality. And if you listen, you’ll hear God’s voice. And if you’re trying, [God] will help you make the right choices. You’re promise to be -- anything [God] wants you to be!”                                     

 -- “I am a Promise” by the Bill Gaither Trio

“For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.”                       

-- Psalm 139:13-14

My sweetest niece Hadley, 

We were thrilled to meet you last week! Being an aunt and uncle is the best gig in the world. We get all the fun of spoiling you without the full responsibility. I could snuggle you all day long and marvel at the miracle of life that brought you to us.  You came with your own unique characteristics -- an extra long thumbnail, a voracious appetite, strong arms (ready to throw for corn hole), and glorious chubby cheeks. You’re a wonderful gift we unwrap each day as we get to know your personality, your preferences, and your delights. 

I pray all babies in this world would be as welcomed and beloved. That each child might be cradled and nurtured and given the opportunities you will have to learn and grow. You’re a great big bundle of potentiality wrapped in a blanket dotted with pink hearts.  Our tender hearts hope you’ll become anything and everything God wants you to be. We will do our best to help you listen to God’s voice. We’ll love you even when you make the wrong choices. We’ll always be there, urging you as you crawl, catching you as you toddle, and encouraging you as you drive away from home someday. 

I also hope this world will become more welcoming and loving because of babies like you. Perhaps your generation will help us eliminate poverty and provide equal opportunities in education and jobs. Maybe you all will find a cure for AIDS and cancer. You could turn us to nonviolent ways of solving our conflicts. Or you might swing wide the doors of our hearts so people can love whom they love, regardless of gender or race or religion or class. There is so much possibility in you just waiting to unfold. 

You are a promise, my dear niece. 

Love you with all my heart, 

Aunt Lisa

Much Ado About "Nothing"

“For I am convinced neither death nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” -- Romans 8:38-39

When all is said and done, I will have added “nothing” to General Conference 2012. That is, the preamble to our Social Principles in the Book of Discipline will now say, “Nothing can separate us form the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord,” based on Romans 8:39. With tremendous help from my delegation, I made an amendment to an amendment in an attempt to move us from political posturing to a Scriptural statement about the God we worship. 

Here’s what happened: A majority report from Church and Society created a lengthy addition to the preamble of our Social Principles, which express our stand on difficult issues like abortion, the death penalty, and homosexuality. Many of the more liberal delegates supported this report because it specifically stated we are not of one accord on these issues. We voted for the more terse minority report favored by the more conservative delegates. This report said we affirm our unity in Jesus Christ while acknowledging differences in applying our faith in different cultural contexts as we live out the gospel. In an effort to compromise, an amendment was proposed: We stand united in declaring our faith that God’s grace is available to all and that neither belief nor practice can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

When this amendment was proposed, I mumbled at my table that Romans 8 says “nothing” can separate us from God’s love, not simply beliefs or practice. My fellow delegation members urged me to make an amendment to the amendment. At first I had the wrong color card, so the presiding bishop wouldn’t call on me. Finally, I got the white card and started jumping up and down by my seat to be recognized. When I made the recommendation for “nothing,” we took a vote. It passed by only 56 percent. 

Facebook and Twitter feeds lit up that only 56 percent of conference delegates believe Paul’s words that “nothing” can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. While I’m aware there was tremendous political posturing happening, I’m also troubled by the notion that we can’t even agree on this important verse of Scripture. At the start of our lunch break, I spent 20 minutes conversing with a delegate who believes that sin does, in fact, separate us from the love of God. I stood firmly on the prevenient grace of Jesus that comes before we’re even aware. 

It seems so small to have added “nothing” to the Book of Discipline during my 15 seconds of General Conference fame. One of my seminary friends joked that I’d soon be signing advanced copies of the 2012 Discipline for my fan club. But in all seriousness, that “nothing” may really be something. It may somehow be the gracious word of God’s love we all need to hear. 

Dem bones

"As it is, there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you’, nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’ On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it." -- 1 Corinthians 12:20-26

I cast my first real vote today. We were deciding whether to amend our constitution to create a set-aside bishop who would not be assigned to a specific geographical area so as to have the freedom to concentrate on leading the Council of Bishops. The legislation failed to receive a two-thirds majority vote. 

The most difficult part of being on the floor is keeping track of what’s called the consent calendar, where we bunch legislation together and vote on it en masse. Once I figured out where we were, I tried to help the Congolese delegation at our table track the legislation and use the electronic voting devices. The instructions for the devices kept changing. Plus, they were listening to the instructions in Swahili, tracking with a French copy of the Advance Daily Christian Advocate, and looking at an English version of the consent calendar. Oy vey!

Last week I grew weary of being part of a global church with the cultural differences, the language issues, and the different social realities, especially when it comes to the treatment of women and people who are homosexual. I still struggle to see how we can go forward together, especially on the issue of homosexuality. In some American churches, our stance of “homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching” prevents people from being part of our churches because they find us hypocritical and judgmental. Our Asian and African delegates have begged us not to pass open and affirming legislation because homosexuality is illegal or condemned in some of their cultures. One man even said his church told him not to come back if we voted to ordain people who are gay or lesbian. 

Tonight we broke into round table conversations about the global nature of the church, and I reflected on the people I’ve met so far. I remembered the Ivory Coast pastor who’s only been to one year of seminary because she can’t afford the other two. I recalled the superintendent from a “poor corner” of the southern Congo whose pastors earn $10 to $20 a month. I can’t imagine these realities either, and yet we’re called to be part of one Body of Christ. We can’t start cutting off eyes and feet just because we think we don’t need each other. 

There is no easy way to be a global body, just the reassurance that God has arranged us, one part connected to the other -- toe bone connected to the foot bone, foot bone connected to the leg bone, leg bone connected to the knee bone -- so that all of us dry bones may one day get up and walk around together. 

Big Leagues

I was called up last night to be seated on the floor. I felt like a minor league baseball player who received a call from a major league team. I substituted for another delegate who needed a break, but before you get too excited, I didn’t get to cast any votes. It was a worship service of repentance for the way we Euro-Americans have treated indigenous people. Today I went back to my minor league role as a reserve delegate. 

From what I can tell, the big league is a mixed bag. Yesterday I observed a hair-splitting legislative session where negativity and cantankerous talk spread like a rash. A subcommittee spent close to an hour discussing the placement of commas in a petition, and a procedural point was debated for 90 minutes before the secretary of petitions could clarify. As it turns out, a delegate from the Congo had been correct in questioning the way the chair was handling the voting. I truly believe his concern was dismissed initially because he couldn’t articulate it in English. At the end of the day, this committee was so stuck that they had only addressed six of 96 petitions. 

Now I am a rule-follower and a grammar queen (often to a fault), but I couldn’t help but wonder in a global church if this were the best way of doing things. We have very real issues before us about the structure, inclusion, shape, and future of our church, and we’re getting bogged down in this minutia. As Pastor Mike Slaughter tweeted from another session during this debacle, “Our theology is great but our methodology sucks.”

Yet one of my colleagues in a different legislative session had a completely opposite experience. He was incredibly grateful for the deeply thoughtful and respectful responses that delegates exchanged. Even while they were debating a very sensitive and emotional petition dealing with one aspect of our stance on homosexuality, delegates were very kind to one another. They prefaced their statements with phrases like, “I hear you, but from my perspective ...” or “I understand what you’re saying, but in my country we believe ...” Likewise, I sat in on two more sessions today where humor and kindness prevailed in the wake of really difficult issues. 

It seems the difference between a positive, constructive experience and a negative, unproductive one in the big leagues may be as simple as a kind word, as gentle as a laugh, or as patient as listening to the other side. I’m not sure how we begin to heal the rash of negative talk in our denomination, but I trust that somehow, a joyful heart is good medicine. 

We Are the World

“Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” -- Acts 2:3-4

Serving at General Conference has made me long for a return to Pentecost, when the power of the Holy Spirit allowed the early disciples to understand each other, regardless of which languages they spoke. This year 41 percent of the delegates are from other countries (up from 25 percent in 2008), and most of them do not speak English as their first language. As you walk through the convention center, you can hear a beautiful mix of Swahili, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Russian, and Korean, just to name a few. Yesterday’s opening worship featured a plethora of languages, and we were always encouraged to respond in our native tongue. What a gift to be surrounded by Christians from around the world!

Unfortunately, most of the time our interactions feel more like the tower of Babel. Having spent time in other countries, I know how challenging it is to follow what’s happening around you, let alone when communication gaps occur. Aside from the Daily Christian Advocate, much of the conference literature is not reproduced in these other languages. Today a verbal announcement was made about a change in the schedule, but some of the international delegates followed the printed schedule, meaning they ended up in the wrong rooms for the afternoon session. 

Even when our international colleagues can understand the words, the cultural context is often so dramatically different that it’s hard to explain. Yesterday I sat in on an orientation for female delegates and helped to translate for two women, one from the Ivory Coast, the other from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. I had to describe some nuances in the definition of “pornography” in our Book of Discipline. Let’s just say I was using words I don’t often use in English, let alone French. At the end of our session, the leader of our small group announced she was a lesbian and encouraged us to vote in the way of inclusion. The women with me had never met someone who was openly homosexual, let alone a woman who was a federal judge and a faithful member of the Church. 

At one point during a legislative session today, the delegates were arguing procedural points and trying to take a vote. Everyone was getting frustrated. A man from Korea in the back of the room started singing, “God is so good,” and everyone joined in, each in his or her native tongue. 

And I thought there just might be hope for us yet. 

Spectacles

This type of blogging is called a "braided" or "mosaic" essay where the parts are interspersed and woven together. I'm borrowing this concept shamelessly from another writer in the blogosphere. 

The countryside of Gibson County is strikingly beautiful this time of year. The green is returning to the fields, where God’s paintbrush has splashed purple wild violets everywhere. 

I score well over 200 points on the clergy stress test, if you count the loss of my dog, Isaiah, as “death of a family member.” Mostly that’s due to a new job, new residence, and new relationships. Supposedly scoring over 200 in a 12-month period can set you up for serious psychological and physical consequences. 

My legs aren’t used to the hills around here. The cardio just about kills me on my bike rides and runs. I sweat bullets and pant like I never even lifted a finger before.

One of my favorite books as a kid was Will I Have a Friend? On his way to his first day of kindergarten, Jim worries aloud to his dad about finding a friend at school.  Finally, in the afternoon, Paul shares his truck with Jim. 

I’ve been running or walking each day past the home of Rhonda, a parishioner who is visually impaired. I interviewed Rhonda my first Sunday at Hillside, asking her what being visually impaired has taught her about faith. She learned the “sighted guide” technique early on in life, holding onto the arm of someone who has sight and walking two or three steps behind. Maybe that’s a lot like how we should walk with God.

William Bridges claims that transitions have three parts -- the ending, the letting go, and the new beginning. 

I violate the “No Trespassing” sign to jog down the road to Lake Gibson. I figure I’m not fishing or hunting, so I’m not causing any harm. I sit on a rectangle of concrete to pray, meditate, and stare at the still waters. Today there’s a broken pair of spectacles on my concrete block. Time for a new pair of glasses.