Page 2 of 2

Advent 2: Peace

Baruch 5:1-9
Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction, O Jerusalem, and put on forever the beauty of the glory from God. Put on the robe of the righteousness that comes from God; put on your head the diadem of the glory of the Everlasting; for God will show your splendor everywhere under heaven. For God will give you evermore the name, “Righteous Peace, Godly Glory.” Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height; look toward the east, and see your children gathered from west and east at the word of the Holy One, rejoicing that God has remembered them. For they went out from you on foot, led away by their enemies; but God will bring them back to you, carried in glory, as on a royal throne. For God has ordered that every high mountain and the everlasting hills be made low and the valleys filled up, to make level ground, so that Israel may walk safely in the glory of God. The woods and every fragrant tree have shaded Israel at God’s command. For God will lead Israel with joy, in the light of his glory, with the mercy and righteousness that come from him.

We have a group called “Caring Friends” which is for widows and widowers to gather a couple times a month for fellowship and support. We held a “Blue Christmas” service for them and anyone else in our community who wanted to come and lament their lost loved ones they were missing this holiday season. Afterwards we met to talk over coffee and pie about grieving during the holidays.

I can’t share specifics for the sake of confidentiality, but it was a time of kindness, support, and understanding. While the grief and pain are very real for many people in the holiday season, there is peace among the support of friends. There is peace in the community of the church. There is peace when a small tealight is lit for the loved one they remember. There is peace in the decisions made after the death of a loved one for self-care purposes.

Instead of abiding, overwhelming peace for those who are grieving, there a moments of peace. These moments give life and breath to continue on to the next moment and the next day.  These moments provide clarity and make a pathway for joy and healing. When grief strikes, one can only go minute to minute, day by day since grief is unpredictable in nature. And that’s how peace sneaks in, between the moments and the breaths taken to provide some grace in the chaos.

Luke 3:1-6
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.
He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'”

Advent 1: Hope

Psalm 25:1-10

To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust; do not let me be put to shame; do not let my enemies exult over me. Do not let those who wait for you be put to shame; let them be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous. Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth, and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all day long. Be mindful of your mercy, O LORD, and of your steadfast love, for they have been from of old. Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; according to your steadfast love remember me, for your goodness’ sake, O LORD! Good and upright is the LORD; therefore he instructs sinners in the way. He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way. All the paths of the LORD are steadfast love and faithfulness, for those who keep his covenant and his decrees.

Even when horrible things are happening in the world, I can typically tap into the mindset of Advent. This year I’m struggling.

I read a story about the California wildfires where burned remains were found. They were thought to be from a single person. Results showed the the DNA came from two people. It’s believed that they were holding each other when they died. I spent the morning sick to my stomach and in tears.

And I’m supposed to summon hope for Advent?

How?

I’ve been working on sermons and Advent readings, but I just couldn’t write anymore. We are supposed to be talking about our hope in Christ who came to earth to overcome evil, sin, and death. And we’re waiting for Christ’s return. But where’s Jesus now? Can he see what’s happening here? Is he watching? Burnt remains sure don’t feel like death has been overcome. Tear gas thrown at the border feels evil. The humanitarian crisis in Yemen where people are starving to death feel like the result of sinful leaders.

How am I supposed to write hopeful readings for my congregation to read aloud as they light candles? How am I supposed to pray when the people who are fleeing from fires, seeking asylum, and hungering for food are praying and their suffering is not being relieved? What can I preach from scripture that hasn’t been said? Is anyone going to change their hearts towards compassion, or are they going to sit in church and leave the same person they came in as?

Jesus, we clearly can’t do this on our own. We’re freely admitting it.  We’re confessing our dependency on you, so why aren’t you showing up?

I don’t know. I don’t have any answers. Pastors don’t have the theological answers to these problems. I’ll show up. Light the candles. Say the prayers. Read the scriptures. Maybe it’s not up to me to instill hope. I’ll do my part in church and in my own personal life, and maybe hope will find a way. I’ll keep being faithful and maybe Jesus will show up. There aren’t any guarantees here. Is that the point? I’m not sure. I guess we’ll have to keep trying as we wait and see.

1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you? Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face and restore whatever is lacking in your faith. Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus direct our way to you. And may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you. And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints.

The Only Way to Heal

I saw a quote on Facebook that deeply resonated with me by Christian writer Liezel Graham, “Sometimes the only way to heal, is by undoing the way you were put together by others.”

A year ago, beginning my final year of seminary, I knew that as a leader and a pastor I would have to figure out who I was apart from who I had been trained to be. As I entered this final year, I knew it was going to be a little different. I was going to be doing my Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) which would be a full-time (unpaid) chaplaincy internship. Instead of spending 5 days a week in the classroom at CTS, I would be spending 5 days a week at my CPE site which was the Outreach and Advocacy Center. Each day I would help a number of guests who were experiencing homelessness get the Georgia state ID cards which could help them get medical care, employment, food stamps, and housing. Some needed their birth certificates or social security cards. Other people didn’t need documentation, but needed food, clothing, and medical vouchers to meet their daily needs. There were a few other services that we offered as well. This job took a lot of knowledge and quick thinking, but also patience, listening, and understanding. It was a very hard job, but one that taught me how powerful it is to slow and down and listen to someone who often goes ignored or silenced by society.

red and green tree leaves on a sunny day
Photo by le vy on Pexels.com

Learning who I was in this environment taught me the positives of the things I was taught to be throughout my life, and the negatives. A major part of CPE is being part of a cohort of other chaplains who are at different sites. We would come together twice a week to learn more about each other, to learn about ministering to people who are facing mental illness, trauma, and major conflicts, and how to communicate and manage conflicts within our own group. We learned about our strengths, our weaknesses or “growing edges”, our blind spots, and how to offer criticism without being abrasive, and how to receive it without being defensive. It was really difficult and tense, but it was also enlightening, healing, and usually happened successfully (meaning that we came to an amicable understanding, not that there wasn’t bumps in the road along the way.) This was a training ground for self-reflection and living in a loving community.

One of the aspects of CPE was to have learning goals. One of mine was to learn how to be “appropriately assertive.” This is where who I am is in conflict with who I was taught to be. From a young age, I was taught not to be intrusive: do not ask for food and or drink at at someone’s house, even if they offer, because it’s rude for them to have to go out of their way for you. I was taught to do all the work: no one else is going to do it, so we have to be the ones who show up hours early to set up, and we have to stay late to clean it all up ourselves and do.not.ask.for.help. Just suck it up and do it. I was taught that saying “no” is rude and lazy. I was taught that I should never stick up for myself in order to “keep the peace.” I was told to “get over it” far too much growing up.

I was groomed to be a door mat. And for years, I was. I let people walk all over me, take advantage of my kindness, not show up for me when I had showed up for them, blame me for things that were their fault, make fun of me, and so much more.

But then I started standing up for myself, and I wanted to use CPE to learn how to be firm in standing up for myself, but also compassionate and gentle. I especially valued this goal when we took the Enneagram test. (For more information go here: https://www.integrative9.com/enneagram/introduction/) I tested as a 2, and immediately felt wrong. I knew that wasn’t who I was in my core. A 2 is a “helper” who are helpful to the point of being self-sacrificial; they are warm, caring, and they want to make the world a better place. But their identity is often caught up in being the servant and for some “the need to be needed.” I know this is not the case for all people who are 2’s, but this felt like the identity that was being imposed onto me. While I think some of these aspects are good and part of who I am, I didn’t feel like the working definition fit who I really was, but who I had been taught to be. I then learned that women frequently test “false positive” for a 2, because we are often socialized to be the servants, the self-sacrificial individuals who make the world go round. If we as women won’t do it, then who will? It has been “our place” and expected of us to do the work without the credit for thousands of years. I knew that a 2 was a false positive.

My CPE supervisor said to check the other numbers and see if there is one I might identify with. I felt strongly drawn to 4, the “intense creative.” Individualistic, deeply emotional and empathetic, drawn to the arts. However, sometimes our strong emotions can come off as moody or temperamental or dramatic, when to us it seems normal. We can be both social and withdrawn. We’re ambitious, but also envious and feeling like something is missing. I felt like this was me, who Glory really was at her core. Flaws and all. So I’ve claimed a four: emotional, empathetic, caring, but also firm in who she is as an individual. To learn about myself, I had to unlearn who I had been made to be.

I’m still practicing my “assertiveness.” What I’ve learned is that it’s a lose-lose situation for women. There’s still an expectation of being a submissive servant, so if we act in this way we are forced to do all the work with no credit or forced to do work that is expected of women: cooking, cleaning, child care. If we act against this manner, we are “too assertive” or “too hard-lined” or “inflexible” even if we have politely said, “Hey, I’m sure you didn’t intend this in this way, so I am not angry or anything, but what you said felt hurtful..” Giving someone the benefit of the doubt, coming across in a nice way, and going out of your way to use “I” statements so you’re not accusing them, doesn’t mean there still won’t be backlash against the fact that you’re speaking up for yourself. If you say something people don’t want to hear, no matter how understanding you may try to be, there are just people who will be convinced that you’re the bad guy. Somehow, women still get painted as the villain, even when the wrong has been done to them.

It doesn’t mean I am planning to stop anytime soon. I want to keep practicing so that I can be compassionate and graceful. I never want to be unkind. But I am going to be myself, unapologetically. I can always improve myself, but I will not stop being myself. I will not be a doormat; it’s not who I am.

I took the enneagram test again, a year later. I answered honestly, and this time I came out as a strong 4. I am learning to become who I am apart from who I have been made to be.

Bones

“Bones” is a TV show that I highly enjoy, and I was frustrated when I couldn’t find a way to watch the final season when it was on television. I had watched it for years and I needed to see the conclusion! Now, a year later, I found the series on Amazon Prime. I love when a good TV show has a satisfying ending, and this one did not disappoint. While watching the series finale today, I had a startling realization that put my life in perspective.

This time 5 years ago, I was preparing for my final Sunday at my first church job. I was leaving the church with immense pain and bitterness. I was planning to give up my aspirations to go to seminary. I was about to start a miserable four months working in a call center.

Working at the call center, I went to a dark place. I felt like I had wasted my college degree. I thought my dream to go into ministry was over. I was still freshly grieving the loss of my grandfather. There were other pains and disappointments that piled up on top of each other as friends decided not to be there for me when I needed them. I was depressed for the first time in my life.

To numb the pain, I would come home and watch hours of Netflix. I desperately needed an escape from my everyday life. (I am not endorsing television as a replacement for therapy. At the time I couldn’t afford it, and that’s a real thing. Everyone deserves a right to healthcare, mental healthcare included!) While there were other shows I watched, I distinctly remember watching hours and hours of Bones. The stories were entertaining, the characters endearing, the relationships heart warming, and most importantly of all, these people made enormous sacrifices in their personal lives to work the careers they were passionate about. This show distracted me from my grief, my defeat, my failure, my miserable job. It gave me hope that I would one day have a career I cared deeply about like they did.

As we know, I got a new job a local nonprofit, came out of depression, applied to seminary, and I’m now on the other side of all of that.

I didn’t go through a “honeymoon” phase with my new church. I have had my rose colored glasses shattered a long time ago. I know the church can be both a beautiful, yet broken place. I had rough week last week, and instead of it being a sobering “reality check”  I began questioning things as I have on this entire journey. I have had to fight harder than many of my other colleagues to get where I am today (and I know that due to my status as a white, straight, cis-gendered woman, there are others who’ve had to work harder than me.) I have been through the ringer to get to this place, and my instinct is to question and doubt because this is what these forces have wanted me to do.

But things were settled and I had a couple successes to re-energize me in my ministry. I also had strong words of encouragement from friends. I am called, I am here.

So as I watched the finale of Bones, I have realized that I am where I desperately wanted to be. I watched this show end as someone who accomplished what she set out to do. I watched the show with completely different eyes, as a source of entertainment, not as an escape. With my rose colored glasses being destroyed long before seminary, I know I haven’t “arrived.” My career is not perfect and will never be. But I am where I am supposed to be. Life’s not perfect, but it is so much better now than when I was at my lowest point. I am grateful to have been given this new perspective to reaffirm my place and my calling.

Graces

I had my first rough week as a pastor.

I know there are many more to come.

I won’t divulge too many details, but rubber has met the road this week in many ways. One of these ways was by conducting my first solo funeral. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to speak the Gospel to those in need of comfort and hope. God was present, there was love in the room.

Now, I am tired.

 

This is when self-care has come into play. I have been spending the last few weeks reaching out to friends who I haven’t spoken to in some time (for some, it has been years.) I may not always be in touch with the people who are important to me, but reaching out and checking in is just my way of saying hello and reminding them that I care for them. It was good to receive kind words from friends. Some of which heard my venting and offered prayer, encouragement, and advice. I am so grateful for people who speak life in difficult seasons.

Andy and I grabbed lunch at a local seafood restaurant, which is on a pier. I had a drink, dined on grilled fish, and watched the waves crash around me.

This morning was a weird one, but a good one. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, due to some mild anxiety. And then I had some lingering emotions from some things I am struggling with. After an hour I decided to get out of bed, realizing the sun would be coming up in a half hour. Andy woke up with me, and we walked down to the beach together. We watched the dolphins and pelicans catch their breakfast, which was enough excitement to get me through the week. For those who don’t know, dolphins have been my favorite animal since I was a kid, and watching them come out of the water and feed in the wild is breath-taking for me. And then the sun rose over all the feeding animals in the sea.

 

We walked from the beach to our local breakfast diner and had an early breakfast. I came back and cat napped. Then it was time for the funeral.

I don’t have any profound thoughts gleaned from this week. I will just stay grateful for the small graces, and the large ones too.

Rev…? Who, me?

On my ordination day, I thought there would some sort of feeling of…triumph? revelation? transformation?

I thought the laying-on-of-hands and the declaration, “You are now a minister of word and sacrament” would be a moment of transcendence. And while I smiled wide at the words and felt deep joy, it still didn’t feel…real? I worked so hard for the title “rev.” and yet it still felt like the title didn’t belong to me.

I’ve been waiting for something to click.

 

What I’m realizing is that it probably won’t happen in some defining, special moment, but over a period of type after a number of circumstances.

Repetition is helping some. I keep referring to myself as “Pastor” Glory in formal settings, or using “Rev.” Glory in formal emails and letters. Rev. Glory is doing the work, getting her business done.

When attending my friend, Betsy’s, ordination service I was able to go and lay hands on her as she was being prayed over. I had a moment of impostor syndrome while standing surrounded by so many other elders and teaching elders (and being the youngest among them.) But I stood, taking my role seriously welcoming my friend into ordained ministry. Rev. Glory had the authority to stand in the company of elders and ministers as one of them.

 

WBTS searched for nearly 2 years for an associate pastor, and it really took a toll on them as they waited and waited. The senior pastor had to take on the work load of two pastors. I am starting feel the weight of my role here at the church. Rev. Glory is needed to share the load and meet the needs of this congregation.

At my installation service, I chose to receive the same scripture charge as my ordination service: 1 Tim. 4:11 These are the things you must insist on and teach. 12 Let no one despise your youth, but set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. 13 Until I arrive, give attention to the public reading of scripture, to exhorting, to teaching. 14 Do not neglect the gift that is in you, which was given to you through prophecy with the laying on of hands by the council of elders.15 Put these things into practice, devote yourself to them, so that all may see your progress. 16 Pay close attention to yourself and to your teaching; continue in these things, for in doing this you will save both yourself and your hearers.

Upon hearing this read to me a second time, I was drawn back to the moment of my laying-on-of-hands. I had to be reminded of that moment for the event to sink in. Rev. Glory should not neglect the gift that is in her given to her through prophecy and the laying on of hands by the council of elders.

 

I’ve never been the type to want to over-use a title. I like being personable, and I don’t need formalities (I do, however, expect the use of formalities used for me when they are used for the senior pastor.) I have no plans to force people to address me with my title, especially when in a casual setting. Personally, I just need the practice so that I don’t feel like an impostor! Here’s to living into this new role, this new title, this new chapter in my life.