The kind of sacrifice you cannot see... and M.E. (a duplicate from my 'other' blog for the heck of it).

In her books, Madeleine L'Engle often speaks of that which we cannot see with the naked eye.  Things that are amazing to behold and stunning in their purpose and presence.  We take them for granted and forget how they impact our lives.

When speaking of faith, someone once said that they do not understand or 'see' gravity, but they sure know it exists when they fall and hit the ground.  I think that in relationships, we do not take sacrifice seriously because we don't see it.  We are doubting Thomas in our daily lives with our mates, children, parents, and even neighbors.

In sociology courses, students learn about the ideas of me-centered society and other-centered society.  One places the emphasis on the individual, the other on the individual's constant and relevant part of the greater whole.   For those who are not sure, the United States and most western culture is me-centered.

I hear people leave a job because they deserve better (really? Because there are a lot of people out there who do not even have a job, let alone one that meets their desire to be treated well).  I hear of marriages ending because "I deserve to be happy, don't I?" or "I deserve a better mate."  Really?  Don't they deserve a mate who will stand by them no matter what?  Funny how that works, I want that for me, I expect MY mate to stay by me as long as I want them and need them, but if they are not fulfilling my needs I "get" to be selfish?  We don't see in that moment that we are the less than ideal mate, not them. 

In a story I read this week,  a woman said to a man, "I deserve more than just one step, I deserve someone who will meet me half way."  I get the idea here, she had been in abusive relationships up to that point.  But the fact is, relationships are never 50-50.  They are always about one person giving more than the other at any given time.  When my hubby is rubbing my feet, there is no 50-50 about it- it is 100-0.  He is giving and I am simply laying there like a fatted calf... him 100, me ZERO.  When I am making dinner and he is chilling out by skimming the pool (something he will fight you over to get to do) it is also not 50-50.  It is more like 75-25.  He is doing something that needs to be done, but not really, that is why we have a pool guy.  I am doing something that MUST be done or we will lose our generous proportions.  See?  not 50-50.

As Matthew points out, "whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me."  I am going to get really real here folks.  Be ready to not like this... so here goes:

If you think that you are going to grow as a Christian and become more Christ-like without giving more than a little- or less than 100%, then you are wrong.  This is not about salvation, this is about those of us who say we are Christian's and then don't live it.  You are NOT bearing fruit.  You are NOT growing.   You are sitting by the side of the road whining about the splinters of the cross and that they are going to get infected.  Get up.  Shut up.  Pick UP the cross and walk.  It is not easy. It is not fun.  It is not all happy, skippy, joy, joy.  It is about sacrifice.  It is about honoring the relationship. And when you think you are the only one sacrificing in it- just remember, you didn't get scourged or die a horrific death on a cross for something you did not do.  His sacrifice is invisible today- but that does not mean it was not 100% or does not exist. 

Now, as they say in the Army... kwitcher bi*%^$n, pull up yur big girl panties, suck it up and DRIVE on.  I believe in you- you are not alone and you are worth the work. Go give.  

Two Years Down

I can hardly believe I am writing this.  It really does feel like yesterday that I was freaked out about learning Koine Greek.  Now I not only have that under my belt but Hebrew too.  I am finally starting to feel like a seminarian and I am half way through. 

We welcomed in the newest cohort of students to Luther Seminary this past month.  CH7 (cohort 7) stands to be the largest ever at Luther in the Distance Learning program and those of us who are ahead of them are thrilled to see the progress the program is making.  We are honored to be part of the 'sorting out the kinks'.

But that means we have kinks.  Yup.   They come and go, some big, some small. 

Right now, I am struggling to find a CPE (clinical pastoral education) placement in Los Angeles.  For such a large city, there is a dearth of programs that are seasonal.  Many are suffereing losses of supervisors so they can only offer summer or year long placements. 

For me, I thought applying to my closest one would be a done deal.   The problem is that no one told us how hard it would be to get into a site.  They said to apply early because it takes time to get placed, but they did not explain that it would be because of a shortage of positions, rather, we all thought it just meant it took time to place us literally.  They also didn't explain that some sites are very desirable.  That means they become the 'ivy league' of CPE sites and people try to get into them from all over the country.  There is no exception for those who are local- just a free for all application process that leaves the winners on top.  In other places, they just put you in order you applied, so if there are 5 slots and there have been 10 applicants the last year, they put you in at number 11.  It can be slow going.  And frustrating. 

As a Lutheran, we are required to go through a step called Endorsement before we can do our internship year.  It is a process that involves professors, candidacy committee, and student essay/interview.  At the end, the hoped for result is the ELCA saying, "yup.  They look like they will become a pastor with us.  Keep going and lets see what internship does."

Some synods (think of them as large state like areas around the country) require CPE before Endorsement.  Some will do it after as long as it happens, others can make exceptions, do the endorsement pending completion of CPE, etc.  Mine requires it beforehand.  Now that might not seem like a big deal, except that it can take up to a year to place a person in their internship slot after endorsement. So a delay now means a delay then...etc. 

So here I sit, lots of great classes for this fall, but no slot for CPE.  That is okay though.  I know God has this, I just wish once in a while I knew some inkling of the direction God is planning.  Life of a seminarian. 

Called to feed

I wish that you could be in my head today as I read for class.....

There is this thing I do, I cannot help myself.

 When I do not do it, it is all I crave.  It consumes me in a passionate and unforgiving way and calls to me constantly, much like the call to follow Christ consumed Martin Luther and fed his desperate need to share Christ with the people in a way that was more intimate and on their level.

When I answer to this innate need, I feel at rest, sated for now, and able to function in some manner of peace.  You see, I cannot help myself. I will admit it... I feed people. 

There is more to feeding someone than buying food and putting it on the table.  It is about creation of food that nourishes and comforts.  It is about love in every knead and every stir.  About compassion in every chop and every flip. It is about community in every table setting where we gather around this food that will fill us, but where our souls are filled by the community simultaneaously. 

I could not reach a dear friend as this all came bursting from my head this morning- so I texted- and you know me- short and sweet is not my strong point.  But here, in this moment, forced to keep it that way, I came up with an equation that opened my eyes and pierced my heart.

Eucharist=famine relief.... our troops and thier families are starving=suicide. 

It is in your face. I can acknowledge that.  It is painful and it is blunt to the point of rude.  But it is also so true that it makes my body ache in sorrow and awareness. 

----
When I am at Luther Seminary with my cohort for intensives every January and June, I miss my family.  I miss my bed and my home and all the things I find common comfort in. So I cook.  I cook a lot.  But what I found was not just the cooking fed me.  It made me miss my family less to cook a big tray of blueberry scones... but it also did something I did not expect in the least.

 It thrilled my heart to tears when that tray of scones disappeared in grateful, tired, study worn hands of students running off to class with only coffee to fill them... until they saw the scones.   That simple little scone warmed thier chilled fingers as they rushed out into the bitter cold and then filled their stomachs, nourishing them enough to think a little until lunch time. 

All the more so, when I spent a day cooking red sauce for a communal spaghetti dinner to welcome the new cohort, I hummed and danced and twirled and cried and prayed.  But what THEY did as a community was the amazing part worthy of dancing over.  They gathered as one- over 30 people- as ONE community and broke bread and slurped pasta.  They left the new cohort with smiles and small tears of joy and welcome.  They brought them into a cohort of welcoming arms and fed the hole in them that housed fear, home-sickness,  nervousness and the unknown of this new journey they were on. 

You see, they created a home for them.  A community, a table, a family.  But it was done through food as a community that fed both body and spirit.  As we fight suicide together, we must remember that there is a hole in the spirit of those struggling with suicide.  That hole needs fed and filled with community and love and trust and faith, not shame, silence, or fear.   Gordon Lathrop writes in his book, The Pastor,
"Finally, the great table service of Christ to the world is the corss.  There, by holy mercy, he is the server and the food, the very fruit from the tree of life for faith to receive and eat and live and also the very famine relief of God served up to all the needy world." (p65)

Patch Adams wrote in his book House Calls a poem from Pablo Neruda that goes like this:

 

If I die, survive me with such sheer force
that you waken the furies of the pallid and the cold,
from south to south, lift your indelible eyes,
from sun to sun dream through your singing mouth.
 

I don't want your laughter or your steps to waver.
 

I don't want my heritage of joy to die.
 

Don't call up my person. I am absent.
 

Live in my absence as if in a house.
 

Absence is a house so fast
that inside you will pass through its walls
and hang pictures on the air.
 

Absence is a house so transparent
that I, lifeless, will see you, living,
and if you suffer, my love, I will die again.

Let us not live in a house that is silent from fear of suicide, nor echoing with silence through loss from suicide.  Let us FILL the house with community, with love, with compassion and the connection that is what keeps us whole.  Lets FEED the famine of humanity- body AND soul.