I haven't blogged much lately. It got instantly crazy on Labor Day, with internship, work, and classes. I have been reading blogs though, and lots of books and writing a lot and trying to balance all of that with family time, which only is successful because my husband is amazing.
My 7 year old, Jude and I had an interesting discussion about why he thinks God is male. I went to pick him up at class last week and from the top of the slide, he said, "Leave me in peace. I am God! And I'm trying to figure out how to execute those people over there." I remarked that he must be an Old Testament kind of God. But I guess he's just trying to use play to reclaim some of the powerless he feels since losing our house. That's the theme for him lately - powerlessness. He mostly exhibits his grabs for power at bedtime, which he refuses to acknowledge exists. A child's cosmology can be fascinating and a microcosm of our own adult need to make sense of the world.
I have been gripped by a fascination with the cultural/sociological aspects of polity, theology, individualism, and creativity. I'm hoping to turn it into a sermon for the Thanksgiving service at MMUUS, which is intergenerational. I have been mulling over a Sharon Welch essay, Return to Laughter, I read for my Leadership Studies class. I am boring everyone I know by talking about it constantly, and using it to more deeply explore the issues above. This seems fair to me, as my 15 year old is doing the same thing to me regarding her honors physics class and Newton's Universal Law of Gravity. I told her that I don't really care much about it, as long as it continues to function and I don't go flying off the face of the earth.
I'm facilitating four small groups this year, which is one of the things I love about ministry. I'm gearing up to get back into action on the lay pastoral care team at First Unitarian, and put in my first fall shift on the Connect & Breathe post-abortion talk line.
Our move back to Rochester has been good for me in the sense that it theoretically gives me more time and less of a commute most days (except when I drive to Syracuse) but it also means that the kids ask to do more stuff. I'm really enjoying watching them grow and change and evolve, despite some of the challenges.
Well, the hordes are awake and talking at me, so it's time to start the day now that I'm caffeinated. I'm going to try to get back here more regularly. I have recently found, through doing a ton of weddings, that people actually look me up and read my newsletter articles and blog posts to see if my theology and style are a good fit for them. Fascinating stuff - I've joined some UU Facebook groups on social media, evangelizing, etc. so this is another great interest of mine.
OK, enough or I'll be off on that next!
Showing posts with label theology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label theology. Show all posts
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Connect & Breathe in UU World
I received my issue of UU World yesterday, and sat down this morning with it, and my cup of coffee. I found myself thrilled and inspired by what I read within this month. First of all, as a person with a degree in communications, I enjoyed Peter Morales' editorial on communication and learning how to do it better in the 21st century. Having accessible web presence and communications that reach people where they are - through Facebook updates sent by text, tweets, and email, are vital additions to traditional print communications.
I also really enjoyed Donald Skinner's article about A Third Place and missional work. This speaks directly to the creative ministries we were encouraged to think about in Rev. Lee Barker's class on post-denominational ministry last January at Meadville Lombard.
And of course, I totally loved the article To Listen without Judging by Kimberly French. Connect & Breathe is a reproductive justice initiative I probably wouldn't have gotten involved in had I not been at church the day Rev. Kaaren Anderson gave her sermon on abortion and sexual justice. However, I was there, and was one of the multitudes that signed up to help. Last night, I sat for my second time on the hotline with another volunteer and had such a wonderful evening chatting with my co-volunteer about feminism, sexuality, and abortion. These are topics that don't often come up in my day-to-day life outside of church. But they are key to my understanding of class, gender and justice. I definitely have more to say about these topics!
The training that C&B has put together, as well as the thoughtfulness to language and public perception of the talkline are highly impressive. I am thrilled to be a part of this work as part of my commitment to my home congregation, and as part of my internship work that I'm doing as part of seminary and ministerial formation.
And finally, it was lovely to read Myriam Renaud's article, Got God? Myriam co-taught the Liberal Theology class I took at Meadville Lombard in January, and is delightful. I was very inspired by her theology studies and approach to Unitarian Universalism through her understanding of God.
I haven't been blogging much. Family, school, illness, and internship have sucked all the hours from my days. I have homeschooling reports to write, and a paper on Pietism due today. Despite the busy-ness and other stresses, (like the foot of snow we're getting, again), I am happy. Life is full of meaning and love and gratitude.
I also really enjoyed Donald Skinner's article about A Third Place and missional work. This speaks directly to the creative ministries we were encouraged to think about in Rev. Lee Barker's class on post-denominational ministry last January at Meadville Lombard.
And of course, I totally loved the article To Listen without Judging by Kimberly French. Connect & Breathe is a reproductive justice initiative I probably wouldn't have gotten involved in had I not been at church the day Rev. Kaaren Anderson gave her sermon on abortion and sexual justice. However, I was there, and was one of the multitudes that signed up to help. Last night, I sat for my second time on the hotline with another volunteer and had such a wonderful evening chatting with my co-volunteer about feminism, sexuality, and abortion. These are topics that don't often come up in my day-to-day life outside of church. But they are key to my understanding of class, gender and justice. I definitely have more to say about these topics!
The training that C&B has put together, as well as the thoughtfulness to language and public perception of the talkline are highly impressive. I am thrilled to be a part of this work as part of my commitment to my home congregation, and as part of my internship work that I'm doing as part of seminary and ministerial formation.
And finally, it was lovely to read Myriam Renaud's article, Got God? Myriam co-taught the Liberal Theology class I took at Meadville Lombard in January, and is delightful. I was very inspired by her theology studies and approach to Unitarian Universalism through her understanding of God.
I haven't been blogging much. Family, school, illness, and internship have sucked all the hours from my days. I have homeschooling reports to write, and a paper on Pietism due today. Despite the busy-ness and other stresses, (like the foot of snow we're getting, again), I am happy. Life is full of meaning and love and gratitude.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
On becoming
I remember when I first went to visit a spiritual director as part of small group ministry that I was involved in two years ago, and I told her, "I have done so much growing already...it's sometimes frustrating when I get glimpses of how much more I have to do." Chaplaincy training is another place where you face that realization just about every day.
Another conversation that ended up being very true was when the student chaplain at Meadville Lombard told my triad group (my triad met weekly for course work, and met with the chaplain monthly) that seminary was in a lot of ways a way of breaking us down into small pieces so we could put them all back together again - theologically, emotionally, sometimes even physically, due to the intense need for self care.
When I was a child, I was Catholic, and I had transcendent experiences of God. I had faith in a supernatural Father, and I prayed to Him, and felt His presence in my life. At some point though, existential questions of suffering in my life, and perhaps even a biology of atheism, took away that personal relationship with a Christian God (and it was always a relationship with God, not with Jesus, or even Mary, which is perhaps why it was so natural to become a Unitarian Universalist).
I continued to have transcendental experiences in my life - moments of becoming, of growing, of mystical connection with other people, with nature, with something more - and those experiences are what keep me an agnostic, that make me a person who is aware of the unknown, and of possibility, while still subscribing to Occam's Razor. In a recent post about prayer, I explored some of my thoughts about prayer as a person of non-traditional faith, and I refound this quote that spoke to me. As a religious humanist, I am a cosmic theist, in that I believe in the transcendent immanence of God, which some might call panentheism. However, I have not felt that personal transcendent experience of God (and I realize that is a loaded word) very often as an adult.
I remember being about 10, during the Cold War, and thinking about how infinitely stupid adults were, as a I lay awake, fearful of bombs falling on my house or my school. And I remember an image of physically tucking that thought away into the back of my 10 year old mind, and telling myself that I would never forget to realize that adults were stupid. That we complicate things unnecessarily for ourselves, which results in all sorts of negative consequences in our lives, our social networks, our world. More on this later.
This morning, when I was meditating, I felt God (again, that loaded word, especially for me, as an agnostic) as a presence. I believe in connections, in something greater than the sum our our living, aware parts. And that not only showed up for me this morning but has been with me, as a presence, in the room, all day. It's kind of frightening actually - I mean, I actually thought, perhaps I am having a mental breakdown of some sort ;).But, I am a levelheaded kind of gal, and I am pretty sure I know how this actual feeling of presence has come back into my life.
For some time now, I have been wrestling with prayer, my love of Catholic tradition from my childhood, and with how to make my daily spiritual practice more meaningful, which I have, through ritualistic meditation each day. But it hasn't been until the last 4 weeks of chaplaincy that I have prayed, really prayed with people. And the part where being as a child (as Jesus himself would remind us) comes in, is that it doesn't have to be complicated. I don't have to get caught up in the words God, or Jesus, or Christ, or heaven, or sin. My role as a chaplain is to be present with people, to help them be, to serve with humility. It doesn't really matter what I believe in that moment - it matters that I can connect with that person, and that we create something through our relationship in that moment. If I can let go of my baggage about semantics (and as a writer and editor for many years, many that know me well will know that's a difficult task), and just be in the moment of wonder and (God) and creation, then that has the potential to become transcendent.
This prayer that I have been engaged in and wrestled with, and felt awkward in and powerful in - that has changed my spiritual practice. Again:
"When I pray, the humanist in me is patient but nonplussed, asking who I think I am talking to, and I reply that I don't know, but I do it anyway, my breath casting words into the seemingly unanswering air. Perhaps it is only my need to make the universe personal and intimate. I know myself to be a personal and intimate being, and it seems not totally impossible that the powers which cast me with these qualities, which enables me to be both rational and poetic, may be the same as I, writ large." -- Frances E. West
Humanism is a based on reason and compassion - but that religious piece of humanism does not have to exclude God (or at least I take the liberty as a UU to say so).
And the question is so what? Why do I do this ministry? Now that I can catch my breath in week four, when I can think again about congregational work, community work, and chaplaincy, it becomes very clear that my moral authority as a minister is in not only becoming more authentically myself, but in journeying with others in their own journey of becoming. It's about right relation as a position of moral authority, and about radical hospitality. As a ministry, radical hospitality is breaking down that sin of disconnection that is the root of so much human pain and suffering. Ministry is about finding a theology that makes sense of that sin - not in the sense of predestination, or bargaining with some higher power, or even understanding it - but making sense of it and figuring out how to live our lives that we have the best we can.
One day, I dropped my son off at his Waldorf program and one of the church staff (where we meet) was being (in my mind) quite rude to a new mom who had parked in the wrong place. I was pretty ticked off about his behavior, and my son's teacher, Lynne, who is just a gentle saint of a woman, put her hand on my arm and gently said, "He's doing the best he can." In the moment, that answer didn't feel like enough, but now it does. Ministry is about helping people do the best they can, without judgment and with humility. And that includes me. Sometimes the best I can do doesn't feel like very much, but that's OK sometimes.
Another conversation that ended up being very true was when the student chaplain at Meadville Lombard told my triad group (my triad met weekly for course work, and met with the chaplain monthly) that seminary was in a lot of ways a way of breaking us down into small pieces so we could put them all back together again - theologically, emotionally, sometimes even physically, due to the intense need for self care.
When I was a child, I was Catholic, and I had transcendent experiences of God. I had faith in a supernatural Father, and I prayed to Him, and felt His presence in my life. At some point though, existential questions of suffering in my life, and perhaps even a biology of atheism, took away that personal relationship with a Christian God (and it was always a relationship with God, not with Jesus, or even Mary, which is perhaps why it was so natural to become a Unitarian Universalist).
I continued to have transcendental experiences in my life - moments of becoming, of growing, of mystical connection with other people, with nature, with something more - and those experiences are what keep me an agnostic, that make me a person who is aware of the unknown, and of possibility, while still subscribing to Occam's Razor. In a recent post about prayer, I explored some of my thoughts about prayer as a person of non-traditional faith, and I refound this quote that spoke to me. As a religious humanist, I am a cosmic theist, in that I believe in the transcendent immanence of God, which some might call panentheism. However, I have not felt that personal transcendent experience of God (and I realize that is a loaded word) very often as an adult.
I remember being about 10, during the Cold War, and thinking about how infinitely stupid adults were, as a I lay awake, fearful of bombs falling on my house or my school. And I remember an image of physically tucking that thought away into the back of my 10 year old mind, and telling myself that I would never forget to realize that adults were stupid. That we complicate things unnecessarily for ourselves, which results in all sorts of negative consequences in our lives, our social networks, our world. More on this later.
This morning, when I was meditating, I felt God (again, that loaded word, especially for me, as an agnostic) as a presence. I believe in connections, in something greater than the sum our our living, aware parts. And that not only showed up for me this morning but has been with me, as a presence, in the room, all day. It's kind of frightening actually - I mean, I actually thought, perhaps I am having a mental breakdown of some sort ;).But, I am a levelheaded kind of gal, and I am pretty sure I know how this actual feeling of presence has come back into my life.
For some time now, I have been wrestling with prayer, my love of Catholic tradition from my childhood, and with how to make my daily spiritual practice more meaningful, which I have, through ritualistic meditation each day. But it hasn't been until the last 4 weeks of chaplaincy that I have prayed, really prayed with people. And the part where being as a child (as Jesus himself would remind us) comes in, is that it doesn't have to be complicated. I don't have to get caught up in the words God, or Jesus, or Christ, or heaven, or sin. My role as a chaplain is to be present with people, to help them be, to serve with humility. It doesn't really matter what I believe in that moment - it matters that I can connect with that person, and that we create something through our relationship in that moment. If I can let go of my baggage about semantics (and as a writer and editor for many years, many that know me well will know that's a difficult task), and just be in the moment of wonder and (God) and creation, then that has the potential to become transcendent.
This prayer that I have been engaged in and wrestled with, and felt awkward in and powerful in - that has changed my spiritual practice. Again:
"When I pray, the humanist in me is patient but nonplussed, asking who I think I am talking to, and I reply that I don't know, but I do it anyway, my breath casting words into the seemingly unanswering air. Perhaps it is only my need to make the universe personal and intimate. I know myself to be a personal and intimate being, and it seems not totally impossible that the powers which cast me with these qualities, which enables me to be both rational and poetic, may be the same as I, writ large." -- Frances E. West
Humanism is a based on reason and compassion - but that religious piece of humanism does not have to exclude God (or at least I take the liberty as a UU to say so).
And the question is so what? Why do I do this ministry? Now that I can catch my breath in week four, when I can think again about congregational work, community work, and chaplaincy, it becomes very clear that my moral authority as a minister is in not only becoming more authentically myself, but in journeying with others in their own journey of becoming. It's about right relation as a position of moral authority, and about radical hospitality. As a ministry, radical hospitality is breaking down that sin of disconnection that is the root of so much human pain and suffering. Ministry is about finding a theology that makes sense of that sin - not in the sense of predestination, or bargaining with some higher power, or even understanding it - but making sense of it and figuring out how to live our lives that we have the best we can.
One day, I dropped my son off at his Waldorf program and one of the church staff (where we meet) was being (in my mind) quite rude to a new mom who had parked in the wrong place. I was pretty ticked off about his behavior, and my son's teacher, Lynne, who is just a gentle saint of a woman, put her hand on my arm and gently said, "He's doing the best he can." In the moment, that answer didn't feel like enough, but now it does. Ministry is about helping people do the best they can, without judgment and with humility. And that includes me. Sometimes the best I can do doesn't feel like very much, but that's OK sometimes.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sandwiched
Like many of my contemporaries, I am part of a sandwich generation, simultaneously parenting young (and not-so-young) children while caring for the needs of aging parents.
I went home to central PA this week to visit with my family for the first time since Christmas. My little kids adore visiting their grandparents, and I look forward to stealing some hours to visit a couple of dear friends and their children.
It struck me, really struck me, how time is passing. I am no longer a young adult (duh). My parents are aging and struggling with illness. Balancing the needs of my children while visiting with them was enlightening.
My mother has always been (and considered) a handsome woman. But the last 10 years have not been easy on her body. I really saw her with fresh eyes this week, as she needed to be helped out of the shower. This woman, whom I spent years hating, and still avoid at times, and who has defined so much of what I have become in spite of her, is old. She has mellowed a bit. She is overweight and on oxygen 100 percent of the time. I helped her put lotion on her back, and then her legs. She had beautiful legs, in her day. Due to Bowen's Disease (which is not usually malignant, but is in her case), she has sores all over her legs, as a result of too much sun, and arsenic poisoning. She also has developed an autoimmune disease, which has left her legs and arms covered in other sores and rough patches. She has severe diabetes, and cares greatly for her feet. I rubbed lotion into her feet, taking the time to massage them for her.
My father is adored by my 5 year old son. He never let go of "Papa George's hand and prattled on and on. My father is in the process of being tested for prostate cancer, and has moderate to severe dementia. He has survived aneurisms, accidents, heart attacks. Jude and him are a good pair. They talk to each other, but don't really care about the response, just needing a warm hand and a listening ear. Lucy climbed on his lap, and it brought tears to my eyes to see how much they love him and accept him as he is. That's not an easy task for the older girls, who dislike the dementia unit at the nursing home and are made a bit uneasy by the overly friendly overtures of the women patients. We took my dad out to Red Lobster, because Jude remembered how much Papa George loves it. It was a fun meal, and my dad had a great time.
It was hard to come home. My 14 year old was ready, after 4 days. She told me, "I know this is your home mom, but it's not mine anymore." That about broke my heart - I would move back in a heartbeat. I am homesick for the mountains for weeks after a visit. Happy Valley is a charmed little place, privileged, growing, transforming. I miss my house there, my friends, Spring Creek, bike riding. I miss my friends still. But there are things I love about the Finger Lakes.
Being sandwiched means that when I took a vote on whether to stay another night or not, and I was the deciding vote, I put my own love for home aside and put my children's love for their home first. So here we are, back at the ranch, so to speak.
Next week starts a new chapter in my life, and I am a little anxious, but ready. The joys and sorrows of being in the sandwich generation will inform my compassion and love for those who share this journey.
I went home to central PA this week to visit with my family for the first time since Christmas. My little kids adore visiting their grandparents, and I look forward to stealing some hours to visit a couple of dear friends and their children.
It struck me, really struck me, how time is passing. I am no longer a young adult (duh). My parents are aging and struggling with illness. Balancing the needs of my children while visiting with them was enlightening.
My mother has always been (and considered
My father is adored by my 5 year old son. He never let go of "Papa George's hand and prattled on and on. My father is in the process of being tested for prostate cancer, and has moderate to severe dementia. He has survived aneurisms, accidents, heart attacks. Jude and him are a good pair. They talk to each other, but don't really care about the response, just needing a warm hand and a listening ear. Lucy climbed on his lap, and it brought tears to my eyes to see how much they love him and accept him as he is. That's not an easy task for the older girls, who dislike the dementia unit at the nursing home and are made a bit uneasy by the overly friendly overtures of the women patients. We took my dad out to Red Lobster, because Jude remembered how much Papa George loves it. It was a fun meal, and my dad had a great time.
It was hard to come home. My 14 year old was ready, after 4 days. She told me, "I know this is your home mom, but it's not mine anymore." That about broke my heart - I would move back in a heartbeat. I am homesick for the mountains for weeks after a visit. Happy Valley is a charmed little place, privileged, growing, transforming. I miss my house there, my friends, Spring Creek, bike riding. I miss my friends still. But there are things I love about the Finger Lakes.
Being sandwiched means that when I took a vote on whether to stay another night or not, and I was the deciding vote, I put my own love for home aside and put my children's love for their home first. So here we are, back at the ranch, so to speak.
Next week starts a new chapter in my life, and I am a little anxious, but ready. The joys and sorrows of being in the sandwich generation will inform my compassion and love for those who share this journey.
Attending Church
Today I went to church, not as RE assistant, but just as me. It was the last day for our ministerial intern, David Messner, and he gave a hell of a sermon. I felt inadequate afterward ;). What a gifted speaker he is!
The sermon was about taking those liminal moments - thresholds - where you are in a time out of time and can see into the windows of your life. About taking risks and living the life that calls you. And you know what, I felt really good after that. Not a day goes by (with gratitude) that the hard work of my own transformational experiences and callings is on my radar. I am following my calling, I am parenting with love and intention, I am attempting to be in right relation with the people in my life despite the daily challenges of that. I am a work in progress, but I'm aware of it, and in it.
I hope that I can maintain this ability to step outside my life and see the opportunities and growing edges. One place is in finding the joy in each day. It's easy to get caught up in daily living and chores and necessities. But in some ways, my children are such a gift because they make me laugh right out loud every day. They bring tears to my eyes with their kindnesses, honesty, and deep loving humanity.
Every day I pray that I can live into a theology of joy. It's harder than I would have thought, but it has so many little gifts that enable even more joy to enter into my life.
The sermon was about taking those liminal moments - thresholds - where you are in a time out of time and can see into the windows of your life. About taking risks and living the life that calls you. And you know what, I felt really good after that. Not a day goes by (with gratitude) that the hard work of my own transformational experiences and callings is on my radar. I am following my calling, I am parenting with love and intention, I am attempting to be in right relation with the people in my life despite the daily challenges of that. I am a work in progress, but I'm aware of it, and in it.
I hope that I can maintain this ability to step outside my life and see the opportunities and growing edges. One place is in finding the joy in each day. It's easy to get caught up in daily living and chores and necessities. But in some ways, my children are such a gift because they make me laugh right out loud every day. They bring tears to my eyes with their kindnesses, honesty, and deep loving humanity.
Every day I pray that I can live into a theology of joy. It's harder than I would have thought, but it has so many little gifts that enable even more joy to enter into my life.
Listen, Open, Serve
That's the mission of my congregation. I've done a lot of personal transformation on listening - both to myself and others. I'm getting really interested in the Serve part, and we had an interesting conversation in Wellspring about it a couple of sessions ago.
What does "Serve" mean to you? Is it a burden? A gift? Fulfilling? Martyrdom?
How do you serve in your life and why do you do it?
How is it a part of how you live into your faith?
What does "Serve" mean to you? Is it a burden? A gift? Fulfilling? Martyrdom?
How do you serve in your life and why do you do it?
How is it a part of how you live into your faith?
Saturday, May 15, 2010
UU Salon: May - The Soul
Over at UU Salon, they want to know: Does it exist before we are born? Does it disappear when we die? It is unchangeable, or capable of growing/shrinking/strengthening? Can you lose your soul, or gain one?
I have refrained from reading other posts on this topic until I had time to mull over my own thoughts and get around to posting something. I really like this idea of posing questions to the blogosphere and then compiling them. Nice use of technology and community!
So onward. Does it exist prior/after life as we know it? An interesting story: When I was exploring neopaganism, I loved the story in Circle Round (or at least I think that's where I read it, but I'm too lazy to get up and look) about how our souls all get mixed into this great cauldron and each time a new baby is born, we get a little bit of everyone in our new soul. During this time, my mother was driven to distraction by my "atheism," refusing to come to my wedding a few years before, etc. due to my lack of religious beliefs. I remember telling this story to my kids when they were little and loving it. Anyway, my mother is now in her last years. Her health is very poor and we've been talking about death and dying. I have always seen her as this pretty traditional but non-churchgoing Christian until the last few year, since I entered the journey to the ministry. Since then, my grandmother's Irish pagan roots seem to be coming out. My mom tells me stories of celebrating the wheel of the year, etc. But she blew my mind last month when she basically, word for word, said that the cauldron is what she thinks happens to souls when you die. Could have knocked me over with a feather. She just laughed and said her mother's beliefs are catching up with her (her mother was a seemingly devout Protestant, FWIW).
Basically, the whole notion of matter and science and energy is why I am not a full-blown atheist, but rather an agnostic with a theistic bent. I like Deitrich's cosmic humanism - I believe that God, or what I would call Soul, is immanent in everything, and I have a hard time letting go of my faith that there is some intrinsic part of us that remains as some sort of energy and is passed on into other things - perhaps mingling with the very stardust of which we are made. It's probably just some unlikely concoction I've dreamed up in my limited understanding of physics and such, but I love the idea, and it brings me a lot of comfort.
I think that your soul can change because it's energy, according to my theological view of the soul. I think that what we do impacts the energy that we emit and contain, and if we do things that are evil, that will change our very essence. It's where my moral authority comes from lacking the presence of God.
I have refrained from reading other posts on this topic until I had time to mull over my own thoughts and get around to posting something. I really like this idea of posing questions to the blogosphere and then compiling them. Nice use of technology and community!
So onward. Does it exist prior/after life as we know it? An interesting story: When I was exploring neopaganism, I loved the story in Circle Round (or at least I think that's where I read it, but I'm too lazy to get up and look) about how our souls all get mixed into this great cauldron and each time a new baby is born, we get a little bit of everyone in our new soul. During this time, my mother was driven to distraction by my "atheism," refusing to come to my wedding a few years before, etc. due to my lack of religious beliefs. I remember telling this story to my kids when they were little and loving it. Anyway, my mother is now in her last years. Her health is very poor and we've been talking about death and dying. I have always seen her as this pretty traditional but non-churchgoing Christian until the last few year, since I entered the journey to the ministry. Since then, my grandmother's Irish pagan roots seem to be coming out. My mom tells me stories of celebrating the wheel of the year, etc. But she blew my mind last month when she basically, word for word, said that the cauldron is what she thinks happens to souls when you die. Could have knocked me over with a feather. She just laughed and said her mother's beliefs are catching up with her (her mother was a seemingly devout Protestant, FWIW).
Basically, the whole notion of matter and science and energy is why I am not a full-blown atheist, but rather an agnostic with a theistic bent. I like Deitrich's cosmic humanism - I believe that God, or what I would call Soul, is immanent in everything, and I have a hard time letting go of my faith that there is some intrinsic part of us that remains as some sort of energy and is passed on into other things - perhaps mingling with the very stardust of which we are made. It's probably just some unlikely concoction I've dreamed up in my limited understanding of physics and such, but I love the idea, and it brings me a lot of comfort.
I think that your soul can change because it's energy, according to my theological view of the soul. I think that what we do impacts the energy that we emit and contain, and if we do things that are evil, that will change our very essence. It's where my moral authority comes from lacking the presence of God.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
SLD Assembly
So I'm home now and winding down from the St. Lawrence District Assembly. Last night, I drove into Syracuse and attended the Josephine Gould Discourse: “Twittered, Tweeted and Still Lonely — Choosing the On-Line Church” by Rev. Linda Hoddy of the UU Congregation of Saratoga Springs. I really enjoyed the thoughtful discourse on technology and ministry. There were three responses - one from my friend, Rev. Kelly Weisman Asprooth-Jackson, one from Rev. Richard Gilbert (who as minister at my congregation forever, but I started attending right after he retired, so I have never actually met him, though I aspire to take his UU Polity course at CRCDS one of these days) and one from the DRE from the Albany UU, Leah Purcell, who I had a lovely talk with today.
This morning's keynote speaker was Rev. Robert Latham, and that was the highlight. He spoke convincingly and passionately about the importance of mission and the need to prioritize it over things that act on our mission. He made me want to become that evangelistic UU minister that I am probably too nervous to become ;). His intro by Rev. Tom Chulak was absolutely hilarious, and was a spoof on the song Davey Crockett.
I didn't get either of my first choices for the two workshops, but I enjoyed the second one, which was by a fellow Meadville student, Andrew Mertz. I hadn't met him in January but made sure to introduce myself after the workshop. He was an engaging speaker and the topic was pertinent to my interest in youth, and looking ahead to starting some campus ministry at Syracuse University (anyone who as resources for this should feel freely invited to send them to me!). The first workshop was a watered down repeat of a class I took in January, but with a focus on RE. I have no idea why I signed up for it as a choice at all, but I should have snuck into my first choice. Only because I had already been over the material, so it wasn't a good use of my time. Certainly was a good topic for others though!
Our District Executive, Rev. Chulak, is retiring, and his closing words were quite moving. He seems to have done a great job during a difficult transitional time nine years ago, and the District board is obviously vibrant. My former boss/current friend Jan Gartner is newly elected, and I know she'll be a fabulous addition. She's got great energy and I heard firsthand how happy some of the members at First Universalist are to have her as their DRE this year!
Tomorrow, I"m leading Children's Worship since my boss is on the Coming of Age trip to Boston (lucky!). I'm reading a story called Henry Builds a Cabin (Thoreau, ya know). It should be fun. I have to think of a fun thing to do for the greeting! Unfortunately, Jude won't be there again :(. Tom's work van broke down totally yesterday (losing a day of work too), and it looks like we will be van shopping on Monday (with what money, I have no idea - perhaps the tax return will magically appear? Or my long overdue paycheck from corporate America?)
This coming week I am very focused on my two final papers. I need to write a sermon based on Mark 1:9-13 - the baptism and appearance of the Holy Spirit. Inspiration/ ideas for a UU spin are more than welcome.
Cute note of the day. Jude said, "Tell me something funny. I appreciate a good joke!"
This morning's keynote speaker was Rev. Robert Latham, and that was the highlight. He spoke convincingly and passionately about the importance of mission and the need to prioritize it over things that act on our mission. He made me want to become that evangelistic UU minister that I am probably too nervous to become ;). His intro by Rev. Tom Chulak was absolutely hilarious, and was a spoof on the song Davey Crockett.
I didn't get either of my first choices for the two workshops, but I enjoyed the second one, which was by a fellow Meadville student, Andrew Mertz. I hadn't met him in January but made sure to introduce myself after the workshop. He was an engaging speaker and the topic was pertinent to my interest in youth, and looking ahead to starting some campus ministry at Syracuse University (anyone who as resources for this should feel freely invited to send them to me!). The first workshop was a watered down repeat of a class I took in January, but with a focus on RE. I have no idea why I signed up for it as a choice at all, but I should have snuck into my first choice. Only because I had already been over the material, so it wasn't a good use of my time. Certainly was a good topic for others though!
Our District Executive, Rev. Chulak, is retiring, and his closing words were quite moving. He seems to have done a great job during a difficult transitional time nine years ago, and the District board is obviously vibrant. My former boss/current friend Jan Gartner is newly elected, and I know she'll be a fabulous addition. She's got great energy and I heard firsthand how happy some of the members at First Universalist are to have her as their DRE this year!
Tomorrow, I"m leading Children's Worship since my boss is on the Coming of Age trip to Boston (lucky!). I'm reading a story called Henry Builds a Cabin (Thoreau, ya know). It should be fun. I have to think of a fun thing to do for the greeting! Unfortunately, Jude won't be there again :(. Tom's work van broke down totally yesterday (losing a day of work too), and it looks like we will be van shopping on Monday (with what money, I have no idea - perhaps the tax return will magically appear? Or my long overdue paycheck from corporate America?)
This coming week I am very focused on my two final papers. I need to write a sermon based on Mark 1:9-13 - the baptism and appearance of the Holy Spirit. Inspiration/ ideas for a UU spin are more than welcome.
Cute note of the day. Jude said, "Tell me something funny. I appreciate a good joke!"
Friday, February 19, 2010
Confession
You know, Ash Wednesday just kind of up and missed me this year. As a recovering Catholic, I am usually attuned to the calendar of the Catholic church, but I don't know what happened this year.
In any event, I realized that I kind of miss confession. I would like a little absolution for my sins. I feel like a crappy parent a good deal of the time, thanks to my ex-husband's voice in my head, my mother's bad parenting influence, and my own innate failings. I feel like a bad wife because I am definitely a feminist and not a product of the 50s, cellophane crowd; and I am FAIL at remembering birthdays and things.
I don't think I've committed too many of the seven cardinal sins this year. But in all seriousness, there is a part of me that misses the ritual of that confession with the priest; the Hail Mary's and Our Father's. The Creed. The Rosary.
Maybe some of this is coming from a titillating discussion in my New Testament class on canon. Ritual and liturgy and law, theology. There must be a reason why it is so attractive to people. UUism doesn't make it that easy. We talk about free and responsible search and all that. I seem to always take the more difficult road. My mother says I need a t-shirt that says "Preacher for All People." I kinda like that!
In any event, I am considering making Lent a time of spiritual practice, though I don't get to go to confession. Now to decide which sin I am to work on!
And lest anyone think I'm making light of Lent, I am absolutely not. I found it a very wonderful spiritual practice throughout my childhood, and am wondering if there might be a way to revive that sense of connection to the holy.
In any event, I realized that I kind of miss confession. I would like a little absolution for my sins. I feel like a crappy parent a good deal of the time, thanks to my ex-husband's voice in my head, my mother's bad parenting influence, and my own innate failings. I feel like a bad wife because I am definitely a feminist and not a product of the 50s, cellophane crowd; and I am FAIL at remembering birthdays and things.
I don't think I've committed too many of the seven cardinal sins this year. But in all seriousness, there is a part of me that misses the ritual of that confession with the priest; the Hail Mary's and Our Father's. The Creed. The Rosary.
Maybe some of this is coming from a titillating discussion in my New Testament class on canon. Ritual and liturgy and law, theology. There must be a reason why it is so attractive to people. UUism doesn't make it that easy. We talk about free and responsible search and all that. I seem to always take the more difficult road. My mother says I need a t-shirt that says "Preacher for All People." I kinda like that!
In any event, I am considering making Lent a time of spiritual practice, though I don't get to go to confession. Now to decide which sin I am to work on!
And lest anyone think I'm making light of Lent, I am absolutely not. I found it a very wonderful spiritual practice throughout my childhood, and am wondering if there might be a way to revive that sense of connection to the holy.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Bible and Meaning
I was raised Roman Catholic and was not encouraged to read the Bible. I don't know if it was because I was a girl, or because it was to be interpreted by the priests, or what, but it always felt inaccessible to me, and even the stories didn't engage me.
When I tried to read the Bible as a young adult, I couldn't do it. I couldn't slog through all those begats. Now that I'm getting to study the Bible for the first time, I am really starting to get the context of living in a country with such a large Christian demographic.
So, I guess I"m interested in how UUs and everyone else accesses the Bible. Does it bring meaning to your life? What are your favorite verses? Why? How does it inform your life; how does it create transformation?
What other stories and books and poems do you find useful and transformational in your life? (because God knows, I don't have a long enough wish list at Amazon already!)
When I tried to read the Bible as a young adult, I couldn't do it. I couldn't slog through all those begats. Now that I'm getting to study the Bible for the first time, I am really starting to get the context of living in a country with such a large Christian demographic.
So, I guess I"m interested in how UUs and everyone else accesses the Bible. Does it bring meaning to your life? What are your favorite verses? Why? How does it inform your life; how does it create transformation?
What other stories and books and poems do you find useful and transformational in your life? (because God knows, I don't have a long enough wish list at Amazon already!)
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Religion and class
Some more quotes from my class reading that resonate with my unending concern about UUism (and religion in general) and class, and war:
Harvey Cox: "the characterization made a few years back by Philip Scharper that ‘most of the theologians -- Protestant and Catholic -- who have had such a heavy influence on American theologians and American theology have tended to be, almost by definition, members of tile upper-middle class, indeed forming something of an intellectual elite’ (Catholic Mind, April 1976, p. 18). This is a problem that even the most skillful editorial selection cannot avoid. Why?
He goes on to talk about privilege and economics allowing for leisure to study...
“Religion has very often been nothing more than the superfluous consecration of some situation or action which was neither judged nor transformed by this consecration. Religion has consecrated the feudal order and its own participation in it without transcending it. Religion has consecrated nationalism without transforming it. Religion has consecrated democracy without judging it. Religion has consecrated war and arms of war without using its spiritual arms against war. Religion has consecrated peace and the security of peace without disturbing this security with its spiritual threat. Religion has consecrated the bourgeois ideal of family and property without judging it and has consecrated systems of exploitation of men by men without transcending them; on the contrary, it has used them for its own benefit.The first word, therefore, to be spoken by religion to the people of our time must be a word spoken against religion. It is the word the old Jewish prophets spoke against the priestly and royal and pseudo-prophetic guardians of their national religion, who consecrated distorted institutions and distorted politics without judging them.
So how can people of faith, or people of no faith, who engage in social justice work, stand up and speak? What is it about religion that allows us to hide behind it without living into the values it espouses?
Tillich: "The same word must be spoken today about our religious institutions and politics. Will religion in this country, in this moment of history, simply follow the trend of events, the way public opinion runs, the direction in which the makers of public opinion want us to move? Will religion, after it has consecrated a self-complacent and egoistic enthusiasm for peace, consecrate self-intoxication with war? Will religion in our situation transcend our situation or not?” (Tillich, “The Word of Religion,” The Protestant Era).
Interesting, especially given our offensive in Afghanistan today. Just War. Is it an oxymoron?
Harvey Cox: "the characterization made a few years back by Philip Scharper that ‘most of the theologians -- Protestant and Catholic -- who have had such a heavy influence on American theologians and American theology have tended to be, almost by definition, members of tile upper-middle class, indeed forming something of an intellectual elite’ (Catholic Mind, April 1976, p. 18). This is a problem that even the most skillful editorial selection cannot avoid. Why?
He goes on to talk about privilege and economics allowing for leisure to study...
“Religion has very often been nothing more than the superfluous consecration of some situation or action which was neither judged nor transformed by this consecration. Religion has consecrated the feudal order and its own participation in it without transcending it. Religion has consecrated nationalism without transforming it. Religion has consecrated democracy without judging it. Religion has consecrated war and arms of war without using its spiritual arms against war. Religion has consecrated peace and the security of peace without disturbing this security with its spiritual threat. Religion has consecrated the bourgeois ideal of family and property without judging it and has consecrated systems of exploitation of men by men without transcending them; on the contrary, it has used them for its own benefit.The first word, therefore, to be spoken by religion to the people of our time must be a word spoken against religion. It is the word the old Jewish prophets spoke against the priestly and royal and pseudo-prophetic guardians of their national religion, who consecrated distorted institutions and distorted politics without judging them.
So how can people of faith, or people of no faith, who engage in social justice work, stand up and speak? What is it about religion that allows us to hide behind it without living into the values it espouses?
Tillich: "The same word must be spoken today about our religious institutions and politics. Will religion in this country, in this moment of history, simply follow the trend of events, the way public opinion runs, the direction in which the makers of public opinion want us to move? Will religion, after it has consecrated a self-complacent and egoistic enthusiasm for peace, consecrate self-intoxication with war? Will religion in our situation transcend our situation or not?” (Tillich, “The Word of Religion,” The Protestant Era).
Interesting, especially given our offensive in Afghanistan today. Just War. Is it an oxymoron?
Defining Religion
"Traditional religions are not universal: they are tribal and national. Each religion is bound and limited to the people among whom it has evolved. One traditional religion cannot be propagated in another tribal group. This does not rule out the fact that religious ideas may spread from on e people to another. But such ideas spread spontaneously, especially through migrations, intermarriage, conquest, or expert knowledge being sought by individuals of one tribal group from another” (Mbiti, African Religions and Philosophy, 4).
I'm doing some reading on the definition of religion and found this interesting, especially as contrasted to what J.Z. Smith says,"The most common form of classifying religions, found both in native categories and scholarly literature, is dualistic and can be reduced, regardless of what differentium is employed, to ‘theirs’ and ‘ours.’”
It is enlightening to finally be exposed to non-Western concepts of religion. It helps to see where I make assumptions about what I think of religion, and what I expect others to think. There is a much broader swath of defintion around religion, faith, and religiosity than I have explored - not to say that I didn't experience these ideas on the fringes of my experience, but I didn't get down in the dirt with them and plant my own seeds of wonder, and let a forest grow.
This also helps me to work on my right-brain capacity for approaching ministry in a creative way, and to understand that even those who are steeped in Western enlightenment ideas about religion will be excited about and access religion in different ways, if given the opportunity. Or maybe they'll burn me at the stake, who knows ;)
I'm doing some reading on the definition of religion and found this interesting, especially as contrasted to what J.Z. Smith says,"The most common form of classifying religions, found both in native categories and scholarly literature, is dualistic and can be reduced, regardless of what differentium is employed, to ‘theirs’ and ‘ours.’”
It is enlightening to finally be exposed to non-Western concepts of religion. It helps to see where I make assumptions about what I think of religion, and what I expect others to think. There is a much broader swath of defintion around religion, faith, and religiosity than I have explored - not to say that I didn't experience these ideas on the fringes of my experience, but I didn't get down in the dirt with them and plant my own seeds of wonder, and let a forest grow.
This also helps me to work on my right-brain capacity for approaching ministry in a creative way, and to understand that even those who are steeped in Western enlightenment ideas about religion will be excited about and access religion in different ways, if given the opportunity. Or maybe they'll burn me at the stake, who knows ;)
Friday, January 15, 2010
The oddities of Humanism
I have enjoyed compiling a list of many books during this past week during my intensive class on Religious Humanism. Should you at any time feel overcome by a desire to add to my library (many of the theological books are required reading for my fellowship committee review later on), I am happy to share my wish list with you :-D
We had a wonderful and odd end to our humanism class, by a few of us sharing humanist prayers that we wrote to close our class. Here is mine:
With all our human gifts and flaws
we have joined our hearts
in pursuit of knowledge,
compassion, love, and a
deeper connection to the divine
through our dreams, our lives, and our
deepening relationships with each other.
We leave this sacred time
wiser, more open to possibility,
continuing on our journey of discovery
in good company with each other.
Shoulder your bag, books, and quotes.
Embrace our humanity and our limited
understanding of the sacred,
Sally forth into the vast reaches of the unknown
And mysterious universe, carrying your
Questions and your spirit onward,
May it be so.
We were rewarded for our efforts with a class committee's treat of dark beer samples and dark chocolate. Seminary Rocks!
I started my day out with a wonderful morning devotional led by a classmate who was leaving today. It was on gratitude and ended with We Are by Sweet Honey in the Rock.
I had good intentions of writing a theological statement tonight, but I have to be at another class at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and I am mentally wiped out. But I am grateful for my humanist ministers at my congregation, their clear theological and practical vision, and the joy of being a congregant and a student of a vibrant and thoughtful denomination filled with amazing people.
We had a wonderful and odd end to our humanism class, by a few of us sharing humanist prayers that we wrote to close our class. Here is mine:
With all our human gifts and flaws
we have joined our hearts
in pursuit of knowledge,
compassion, love, and a
deeper connection to the divine
through our dreams, our lives, and our
deepening relationships with each other.
We leave this sacred time
wiser, more open to possibility,
continuing on our journey of discovery
in good company with each other.
Shoulder your bag, books, and quotes.
Embrace our humanity and our limited
understanding of the sacred,
Sally forth into the vast reaches of the unknown
And mysterious universe, carrying your
Questions and your spirit onward,
May it be so.
We were rewarded for our efforts with a class committee's treat of dark beer samples and dark chocolate. Seminary Rocks!
I started my day out with a wonderful morning devotional led by a classmate who was leaving today. It was on gratitude and ended with We Are by Sweet Honey in the Rock.
I had good intentions of writing a theological statement tonight, but I have to be at another class at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and I am mentally wiped out. But I am grateful for my humanist ministers at my congregation, their clear theological and practical vision, and the joy of being a congregant and a student of a vibrant and thoughtful denomination filled with amazing people.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Seething humanism
Really, after 3 days of immersion in the world of UU humanism, amongst thoughtful, passionate, and inspirational discussion about the issues of theism/non-theism, humanism, God-language and more, I wish that I had enough brain power left to write a stunning piece of cohesive brilliance on the topic, but my mind is aswirl with ideas, papers to write, challenge, and gratitude.
I will say that the opportunity to be in class with minds who are not afraid to challenge the status quo has me all fired up (again, as usual) about diversity in race, class, and belief in our denomination. I also have come to perhaps a bit more of an understanding about why people call UUism a movement rather than religion, but I still disagree. However, the word movement does imply progress over time, and humanism is an evolutionary (in more than one sense of the word) additive to our faith tradition.
One thing that did cause me to spout out some passionate verbiage today was the reminder from Rev. Jen Crow's sermon( that I will link to as soon as she reminds me which sermon it WAS, that was probably inspired somewhat by the work of Dr. Sharon Welch), on lowering our expectations. Although I can see the interconnectedness of systems of oppression, I cannot begin to fix them all. And since I am passionate about all kinds of diversity, I am interested in part of my ministry being ways of discovering challenges, solutions and sitting down at the table to problem-solve.
My lack of experience in diversity work (I have lots of theory; not so much hands-on work) is an opportunity for me to be an ally in the great work that is already being done, and I am anxious to go home and start figuring out how to begin building those bridges now. It's like everything in life, you can do it all, but you can't do it all at once.
I will say that the opportunity to be in class with minds who are not afraid to challenge the status quo has me all fired up (again, as usual) about diversity in race, class, and belief in our denomination. I also have come to perhaps a bit more of an understanding about why people call UUism a movement rather than religion, but I still disagree. However, the word movement does imply progress over time, and humanism is an evolutionary (in more than one sense of the word) additive to our faith tradition.
One thing that did cause me to spout out some passionate verbiage today was the reminder from Rev. Jen Crow's sermon( that I will link to as soon as she reminds me which sermon it WAS, that was probably inspired somewhat by the work of Dr. Sharon Welch), on lowering our expectations. Although I can see the interconnectedness of systems of oppression, I cannot begin to fix them all. And since I am passionate about all kinds of diversity, I am interested in part of my ministry being ways of discovering challenges, solutions and sitting down at the table to problem-solve.
My lack of experience in diversity work (I have lots of theory; not so much hands-on work) is an opportunity for me to be an ally in the great work that is already being done, and I am anxious to go home and start figuring out how to begin building those bridges now. It's like everything in life, you can do it all, but you can't do it all at once.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
What is religion?
I don't know why it irks me so much, but it does indeed irk me when people refer to UUism as a movement. When you look at the various ways in which religion is defined - even the Latin roots - I cannot understand the resistance to using it in our congregations or in self-definition.
William R. Murry quotes Loyal Rue as saying that "religion is not about God," and "evolution has shaped human beings in such a way that religion is about influencing the brain 'for the sake of personal wholeness and social coherence.'"
Murry himself says that "To be religious is a matter of one's attitude toward all life." To bind together. Is that not what people do, regardless of belief in science, supernatural power, or something in between, or perhaps totally different?
I am fascinated with the possibility that there is a biological imperative for religion; a connection in our brains between science and the need to believe, or to question. There is research that posits that what happens during a meditative state (or the existence of a potential "God Spot" in the brain that reacts consistently in brain scans of those who meditate or are discussing religious topics) is that during those times, we move from acquiring knowledge to spiritual or value-based learning created by neuronal connections that allow us to think about information from a new perspective.
In other words, spiritual intelligence is actually something that could organically occur in the brain as an effect of new neuronal connections. There is something transformative that happens between reflection and hypothesis (learning cycles suggested by James Zull in The Art of Changing the Brain.
To get back to my original point, we are all subject to our own physical and organic brain, and as we gain deeper understanding of the way that it works, it may become clear that religion is an inherent and necessary part of the human life cycle. Connections are important in our biology, our environment, our relationship - throughout living and dying. Is that not what religion is?
William R. Murry quotes Loyal Rue as saying that "religion is not about God," and "evolution has shaped human beings in such a way that religion is about influencing the brain 'for the sake of personal wholeness and social coherence.'"
Murry himself says that "To be religious is a matter of one's attitude toward all life." To bind together. Is that not what people do, regardless of belief in science, supernatural power, or something in between, or perhaps totally different?
I am fascinated with the possibility that there is a biological imperative for religion; a connection in our brains between science and the need to believe, or to question. There is research that posits that what happens during a meditative state (or the existence of a potential "God Spot" in the brain that reacts consistently in brain scans of those who meditate or are discussing religious topics) is that during those times, we move from acquiring knowledge to spiritual or value-based learning created by neuronal connections that allow us to think about information from a new perspective.
In other words, spiritual intelligence is actually something that could organically occur in the brain as an effect of new neuronal connections. There is something transformative that happens between reflection and hypothesis (learning cycles suggested by James Zull in The Art of Changing the Brain.
To get back to my original point, we are all subject to our own physical and organic brain, and as we gain deeper understanding of the way that it works, it may become clear that religion is an inherent and necessary part of the human life cycle. Connections are important in our biology, our environment, our relationship - throughout living and dying. Is that not what religion is?
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Reflection
I found that this quote resonated with me. It appeals to my own inner struggle around owning my childhood religion and my present theology.
"When I pray, the humanist in me is patient but nonplussed, asking who I think I am talking to, and I reply that I don't know, but I do it anywy, my breath casting words into the seemingly unanswering air. Perhaps it is only my need to make the universe personal and intimate. I know myself to be a personal and intimate being, and it seems not totally impossible that the powers which cast me with these qualities, which enables me to be both rational and poetic, may be the same as I, writ large." -- Frances E. West
Monday, December 28, 2009
Humanism
I am deep in prep for my Religious Humanism intensive in January. I just read The Sacred Depths of Nature and really enjoyed that, especially along with Chet Raymo's Skeptics and True Believers. In between, I interviewed my co-minister about being a humanist, and learned a lot. I was really starting to question my own allegiance to Humanist theology as I worked my way through some of of the more intellectual readings, but there is heart and soul there too.
I am anxious to learn more and see how much I am able to tweak my personal theology through my experience and classwork next month.
I am anxious to learn more and see how much I am able to tweak my personal theology through my experience and classwork next month.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Hanging out with Youth
There's a post over at Chaliceblog that resonated with me - I had noticed the comment in Peter Morales' piece in UU World this winter as well - and it irritated me just as much.
"I am convinced that we too often fail to recognize how much our children, youth, and young adults need to give. Hanging out is not a spiritual practice. Joining hands to work for something we care about is. Service is an essential part of faith development. We need to do so much more to engage the idealism and energy of our young people."
As I commented over at chaliceblog, I think it's a mistake to think that the only way to engage our church youth is through social action. In my work with RE, I have actually heard parents groan about this - their kids have mandated community service through school, and then that's often the bulk of their engagement with their church.
My church has been trying to integrate the messages of its sermons and small group ministries and RE so that congregants with families are having a unified experience and message through themes in worship and workshop rotation in RE. However, this often leaves out our youth who are done with RE curriculum or don't want to get up and come to class or worship on Sundays.
We have a vibrant and growing youth group (40+ kids this year, and they are bringing their non-UU friends!). They just organized a huge con and had 130 kids attend - they meet weekly, and we're offering a Coming of Age group this year too. However, as I've mentioned before, I was inspired to start a Teen Soul Matters group this year. The description is here.
We lose so many youth - and what is missing is hanging out with them. What is small group ministry about? It's about creating sacred space - about learning to listen to your own quiet inner voice or soul. When you are busy in youth group, or social action, you don't take time to just sit and listen to your peers, to other adults, to yourself. You don't have time to really engage yourself with the big questions. What is God? Where do science and religion intersect? Is there an afterlife? What does being a UU mean to me? How can I articulate it to my friends? Where do we come from? What does xyz in the Bible mean, if anything/everything? What is prayer? What are other spiritual practices? How can they bring meaning and clarity to my life? How can people believe in Creationism? What the heck happens when people have these near death experiences?
Seriously, people, all of these topics came from the kids in my group in only 4 hours of meetings. And that was even with structure imposed - it's a ministry group for kids, but it's also hanging out. But it's hanging out with purpose and light.
Youth engage their spirits as much as their hands and bodies by being with adults who are modeling spiritual practice and living into their faith internally, not just in the obvious external ways. Liberal theologians say that we need to hook people through their search for life's meaning, but we have to be aware of how kids do that - it's not necessarily how adults do it. And we have to give them opportunities to explore those questions in ways they will never get with their peers at school or their "regular" lives. Teens are going through a developmental crisis in much the same way that adults have a mid-life crisis. If we can engage them at church during this critical time, they won't have to search for that spiritual home when they're 40!
So my point is that hanging out can be a lot of different things (and can be subversive in a positive way!) and in all my work with youth both in human services and at church, those times where there is no agenda is when the best work happens. When I can just be with them. Doing dishes, driving in the car, watching a movie, listening to some tunes - that's when that shy soul peeks its head out and feels safe enough to ask the big questions. Let's not minimize the incredible power of creating sacred space that youth can identify with. It's not the way that adults do it - but approaching youth from our own social location is why we're losing them. We have to recognize their developmental needs and engage them where they're at. And that's hanging out.
"I am convinced that we too often fail to recognize how much our children, youth, and young adults need to give. Hanging out is not a spiritual practice. Joining hands to work for something we care about is. Service is an essential part of faith development. We need to do so much more to engage the idealism and energy of our young people."
As I commented over at chaliceblog, I think it's a mistake to think that the only way to engage our church youth is through social action. In my work with RE, I have actually heard parents groan about this - their kids have mandated community service through school, and then that's often the bulk of their engagement with their church.
My church has been trying to integrate the messages of its sermons and small group ministries and RE so that congregants with families are having a unified experience and message through themes in worship and workshop rotation in RE. However, this often leaves out our youth who are done with RE curriculum or don't want to get up and come to class or worship on Sundays.
We have a vibrant and growing youth group (40+ kids this year, and they are bringing their non-UU friends!). They just organized a huge con and had 130 kids attend - they meet weekly, and we're offering a Coming of Age group this year too. However, as I've mentioned before, I was inspired to start a Teen Soul Matters group this year. The description is here.
We lose so many youth - and what is missing is hanging out with them. What is small group ministry about? It's about creating sacred space - about learning to listen to your own quiet inner voice or soul. When you are busy in youth group, or social action, you don't take time to just sit and listen to your peers, to other adults, to yourself. You don't have time to really engage yourself with the big questions. What is God? Where do science and religion intersect? Is there an afterlife? What does being a UU mean to me? How can I articulate it to my friends? Where do we come from? What does xyz in the Bible mean, if anything/everything? What is prayer? What are other spiritual practices? How can they bring meaning and clarity to my life? How can people believe in Creationism? What the heck happens when people have these near death experiences?
Seriously, people, all of these topics came from the kids in my group in only 4 hours of meetings. And that was even with structure imposed - it's a ministry group for kids, but it's also hanging out. But it's hanging out with purpose and light.
Youth engage their spirits as much as their hands and bodies by being with adults who are modeling spiritual practice and living into their faith internally, not just in the obvious external ways. Liberal theologians say that we need to hook people through their search for life's meaning, but we have to be aware of how kids do that - it's not necessarily how adults do it. And we have to give them opportunities to explore those questions in ways they will never get with their peers at school or their "regular" lives. Teens are going through a developmental crisis in much the same way that adults have a mid-life crisis. If we can engage them at church during this critical time, they won't have to search for that spiritual home when they're 40!
So my point is that hanging out can be a lot of different things (and can be subversive in a positive way!) and in all my work with youth both in human services and at church, those times where there is no agenda is when the best work happens. When I can just be with them. Doing dishes, driving in the car, watching a movie, listening to some tunes - that's when that shy soul peeks its head out and feels safe enough to ask the big questions. Let's not minimize the incredible power of creating sacred space that youth can identify with. It's not the way that adults do it - but approaching youth from our own social location is why we're losing them. We have to recognize their developmental needs and engage them where they're at. And that's hanging out.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Random Important Stuff
I was so productive yesterday! I got my CPE application emailed off to the hospital, did my homeschooling quarterly reports, and dealt with all my overdue email! I also got my ethics paper in on time, wrote a sermon on Wednesday on crisis for my pastoral care class (can't wait to be able to take an actual preaching class!), and am hammering through my humanism class readings for January (though keeping the reading journal is a struggle).
Not to mention all the laundry. Man, when the cold weather hits, the laundry doubles - the clothes are bulkier, it's muddy and wet, and having a preteen and teen guarantees multiple clothing changes per day!
I really enjoyed my pastoral care class on Thursday. A funeral director came in to speak to us; I am much more motivated to take care of life insurance, will, advance directive, memorial planning, etc. since starting this class. I can really see the benefits of not leaving all that stress to my kids and family to deal with. I had to write a simple funeral for myself, and turned that in a couple of weeks ago. Oddly, nobody in my family wanted to help me plan it ;). Although my 11 yo did ask me if she could do one of the readings. Thinking ahead, as usual!
We also talked about NDEs (near death experiences), which was really interesting. I had done some reading and prep about them for Wellspring last year, as well. Again, the whole science/biology/religion thing is so fascinating.
Yesterday, we went out dinner for my 2nd daughter's 11th birthday at Plum Garden, which is a Hibachi restaurant. I love the drama - the fire, the delicious food, the fun. We had a great time and Jude and Lucy even behaved until the end. I am also very happy to report that my ex-husband and his wife are hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year. If I had to cook and clean this year, I think my head would explode, and my 82 yo MIL declined as well.
Finally, a few interesting links:
Cost of Seminary explained
Exploring Texts - this post resonated with me, since I've been doing papers and such on various books for years, but exploring the Bible through secondary texts has opened up a whole new world to me. Also, I am finding in all my classes a real emphasis on being aware of social location - our own individual context that contributes to how we interpret not just texts, but the world, and how awareness of that bias can open up whole new vistas in exploring ... well, everything.
Not to mention all the laundry. Man, when the cold weather hits, the laundry doubles - the clothes are bulkier, it's muddy and wet, and having a preteen and teen guarantees multiple clothing changes per day!
I really enjoyed my pastoral care class on Thursday. A funeral director came in to speak to us; I am much more motivated to take care of life insurance, will, advance directive, memorial planning, etc. since starting this class. I can really see the benefits of not leaving all that stress to my kids and family to deal with. I had to write a simple funeral for myself, and turned that in a couple of weeks ago. Oddly, nobody in my family wanted to help me plan it ;). Although my 11 yo did ask me if she could do one of the readings. Thinking ahead, as usual!
We also talked about NDEs (near death experiences), which was really interesting. I had done some reading and prep about them for Wellspring last year, as well. Again, the whole science/biology/religion thing is so fascinating.
Yesterday, we went out dinner for my 2nd daughter's 11th birthday at Plum Garden, which is a Hibachi restaurant. I love the drama - the fire, the delicious food, the fun. We had a great time and Jude and Lucy even behaved until the end. I am also very happy to report that my ex-husband and his wife are hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year. If I had to cook and clean this year, I think my head would explode, and my 82 yo MIL declined as well.
Finally, a few interesting links:
Cost of Seminary explained
Exploring Texts - this post resonated with me, since I've been doing papers and such on various books for years, but exploring the Bible through secondary texts has opened up a whole new world to me. Also, I am finding in all my classes a real emphasis on being aware of social location - our own individual context that contributes to how we interpret not just texts, but the world, and how awareness of that bias can open up whole new vistas in exploring ... well, everything.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Brain explosion
I'm in a flurry of thought about covenant, contradiction, feminism, OT vs. NT teachings, H1N1 and WHO recommendations (does anyone know of the IHR (2005) is binding on signatory nations, and if so, how?).
Woohoo!
Woohoo!
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