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. 

Blueberry scones to chase the blues away

Used to the constant movement required to keep a household for a family of six moving smoothly, I found myself still.  Too still.  Not in a good way.  I enjoyed having the time to devote to God and study, but I began experiencing what I now believe to be a bit of homesickness.  Having never been away from my whole family for more than 8 days, the 18 I was gone seemed an eternity and was only bearable by the amazing friendships I was forming and spiritual growth and awareness I was immersed in.
So I found myself suddenly needing to express to this cohort of mine just what they were beginning to mean to me- and to work through how very much I missed the arms of my children and husband.  For me that was answered in one way: cook for them.  Feed my sheep, right?  So was feeding them, literally.  Our first Saturday I made them breakfast.  With many helping hands, we took over the kitchen on the second floor of Stub Hall and made Dutch Eggs with fresh fruit and homemade syrup, biscuits and sausage gravy, and blueberry scones.  While any hot meal would have been received well in my opinion, the scones took the grand prize- and they weren't even as good as I make at home.  Still, they fed something in each person there and they granted me a gentle and less weepy way of saying to my cohort, I care for you, thank you for being with me, thank you for accepting me, thank you for being who you are and loving me just as I am too.  Blueberry scones chased the blues away and gave me a great way to say Thank You.   Here is a pic from my home, of the scones and the recipe to follow.  Enjoy!

Blueberry Scones
Ingredients:
8 tbsp. (1 stick) unsalted butter, frozen whole
1½ cups (7½ oz.) fresh blueberries
½ cup whole milk
½ cup sour cream
2 cups (10 oz.) all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting the work surface
½ cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
2 tsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. finely grated lemon zest
2 tbsp. unsalted butter, melted
Directions:
Adjust an oven rack to middle position and preheat to 425˚ F.  Grate the frozen butter on the holes of a large box grater.   Place the blueberries in the freezer until needed.
Whisk together the milk and sour cream in a medium bowl; refrigerate until needed.  Combine the flour, ½ cup sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and lemon zest in a medium mixing bowl.  Whisk to combine.  Add the grated butter to the flour mixture and toss with fingers until thoroughly coated.
Add the milk mixture to the dry ingredients and fold with a spatula just until combined.  Transfer the dough to a generously floured work surface.  Dust the top of the dough with flour, and knead with well floured hands, 6-8 times, just until the dough holds together in a ragged ball.  Add small amounts of flour as needed to prevent sticking.
Roll the dough into a 12-inch square.  Fold the dough into thirds like a business letter (a dough scraper really helps with these steps).  Fold the short ends of the dough into the center in thirds, to form an approximate 4-inch square.  Transfer the dough to a plate lightly dusted with flour and chill in the freezer for 5 minutes.
Return the dough to the floured work surface and roll into an approximately 12-inch square again.  Sprinkle the blueberries evenly over the surface of the dough, and gently press down so that they are slightly embedded in the dough surface.  Using a dough scraper, roll the dough up to form a tight log.  Lay the log seam side down and press the the log into a 12 by 4-inch rectangle.  Using a sharp, floured knife, cut the rectangle crosswise into 4 equal rectangles.  Cut each rectangle diagonally to form 2 triangles.  Transfer to a parchment lined baking sheet.
Brush the tops of the scones with melted butter and sprinkle lightly with sugar.   Bake until the tops and bottoms are golden brown, 18-25 minutes.  Transfer to a wire rack and let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.
Source: adapted from Entertaining from Cook’s Illustrated, Spring 2009

Re-integration. Unnecessary if you didn't have a profound experience.

Reintegration:verb;  To make or be made into a whole again; to amalgamate or help amalgamate with an existing community.

Reintegration is unnecessary if you don't feel separated right?  But, if you have a profound experience in life, it can make you feel a bit 'out of touch' with your daily life for a while- and when you return to that life and have to live it day in and out, you experience the joys and struggles of reintegration.

Some argue that a Distributed/Distance Learning Model (DL) program cannot possibly create community, a sense of belonging, a deep and spiritual experience.  No way.  Just not possible- especially in 2 weeks at a time in person on campus.  Let me tell you I am going to SHATTER that belief.

Reintegration is the word I see bandied about on facebook by my cohort- CH 5 of Luther Seminary's Master of Divinity Distributed Learning (DL) program.  Now I would ask you, if it was not possible for them to experience a deeply moving and spiritual January Intensives Program, why would that word be in constant use right now?  Why would there be tears upon bidding these new friends goodbye.  How deep could a friendship grow in 2 weeks, really?  Why would there be a need to continue to reach out?  Because the belief that a DL program cannot provide this is UNTRUE.  Period.  Allow me to explain.

There is a phenomenon noted by the mental and behavioral health sciences  and seen in military families.  It is the manner and speed with which they integrate into a new social circle upon arrival at a new assignment.  They do not know these folks, they do not have any special tools to help them.  The only thing noticeable to those observing this phenomenon is that it is persistently obvious among the military.  Read  more about this here.

A military child has a tendency to form lightening fast and gorge-deep friendships and bonds. They do this for many reasons.  First, they do not know how long they have there, but they know it is not long.  Second, they need a support system and cannot wait a year or two to form a normal-speed relationship or they will spend 1/2 to 1/3 of their lives without a geographically close support system.  They also do this out of shared experience that is life-changing.  Some could argue traumatic, at times, but life changing.  Ask any brat.  Ask the experts.  They will tell you there is definitely something amazing that happens and the friendships last lifetimes if given the opportunity to be maintained over the miles and years. 

How then does this apply to DL cohorts?  Are we traumatizing them with intensives?  Hardly.  Well... maybe a little- read my last blog post.  But all in all, we are putting them together in tight quarters with intense schedules and coursework that REQUIRES teamwork if they are to meet the assignment goals. It is not too far from the bonds created at camp- or better yet- Via de Cristo (Cursillo, Walk to Emmaus, etc) because GOD is a huge factor in it, along with shared faith.

 We are not speaking of regular college students here.  We are speaking to the few who have had their hearts moved to pursue Ministry as a lifetime commitment and JOB.  They come to this already having been through some very defining and refining moments in life.  They come from communities where they are not necessarily nested in faith. They may have a great home church and job, but they still live daily life away from campus, not surrounded by the swirl of residential seminary life.  Instead, they create, they build, they stoke, a hunger that is voracious for the 2 weeks they are there.  They literally gorge themselves on opportunity to attend chapel daily, shared devotions, shared meals with intense spiritual discussion and midnight sprints to complete homework due by 8 am.  They are sated only through the fact that they have no other distractions in this time.  They are able to focus wholeheartedly on what is in front of them, so they do- Intensely. 

Something magical happens.  They greet each other- strangers up to this point- with hugs!  They cry over  shared moments of awakening, discernment, sorrow, joy, and even finding coffee already made by someone else for them to share in.  It is called INTENSIVES for a reason-- they are feeling intensely, studying intensely, bonding intensely, missing family intensely, and seeking GOD intensely.  To doubt that this could not create community is to doubt that the Holy Spirit exists or that any of them are called.  That simple.

I wish I could share with you what happens- but I cannot yet.  This semester, I will team up with a fellow cohort to create a short video to give you a glimpse into our lives.  Stay tuned for it after June intensives.  In the meantime, set your doubt aside, and believe.  BELIEVE.  And pray- for us, to find a way to bring the most amazing 2 weeks of our lives into our  homes, communities, and home churches, so that you too will share in the intense joy. 

When acceptance becomes thankfulness

There is a difference you know, between acceptance and thankfulness.  I found the line of boundary today.  It left me in tears.  As sobs racked my body, and arms of fellow students covered me in care, as the voices raised in song to celebrate worship, I felt, believed, and KNEW the vast canyon of difference between the two.

I am no stranger to the Lord's Supper.  I love to serve communion, but I had only ever done it with the wine, never the bread.  Today I served the bread.  I broke off a portion and pressed it into open, seeking, hungry hands with pleading eyes poignantly and directly looking up into mine.

As thier eyes met mine, as I saw the desire and hunger to commune with our Lord, I was rocked.  Literally.  I started with using names when I could.  I have always thought that was so important- to really personalize the moment we commune with God, Jesus would have used our name too, right?  I got to the 3rd person whose name I knew and my throat began to lock up. Suddenly I realized that if I continued to personalize it this way I would burst into tears.  As I charged them with the bread and recognition of Christ's sacrifice, as I saw that they understood it- that I could SEE they were THERE in this moment, a rush of the Holy Spirit washed over me- almost pulling me under.  I could not breathe.  For a moment, I just stood- and took it in.  And then more hands were reaching out.

I have long ago accepted this call.  This past summer, I was even granted the opportunity to let any wistful sentiments of other professions go.  I am not only willing and accepting, but I do so with no reservations now.  This is what I am called to. Wonderful right?  Wouldn't we all hope that every pastor has come to that point?  Well I did.  And then I went past it- rushing, flooding, whirling and twirling past that safe place of acceptance.  Suddenly I found myself in a place where I was broken,  literally cracked open, vulnerable and very aware that I was.  In that moment, as I gasped for breath, a fullness resonated in me in a whole new way and I knew the name of this thing that had taken hold of me and flown away.   Thankfulness.  Yes, I found myself thankful to the point of tears that God has called me to this place, this time, this task. I am not just accepting, not just acquiescing.  Embracing this in a new way, and thankful.

Tortillas with oregano

The kitchen is not very well appointed, but amazingly they have a rolling pin.  Target has a cast iron skillet.  I can do this.
Beginning of week two into my intensives during January, I am missing my family and caring for them.  Not even realizing I am doing it, I pull out my classic coping mechanism.  Cooking.  I need to cook.  My cohort is missing home and family too.  Some to the point of tears, just like me. Others, we can just 'see' it.  And they need fed.  They need a mama, a way to feel they are being nurtured and protected.  So I cook.  Comfort food.  Today, it will be tortillas.  Warm, soft, light, flecked with oregano and slathered in butter, they are a mother's hug for me. And today, at the moment the cohort begin to trickle in and grab one for themselves, they are feeling hugged too- comforted.  In comforting them, I am filling the void.  I am feeding them, the way that God feeds us when we are hungry- hungry for love, food, passion, compassion, and encouragement. One cohort commented, we are literally breaking bread together.  Amen.

In my Dorm...

There is a place within my dorm....
 where hot water for tea is endless
fellowship can be found while folding bluejeans
where I can go for silence, or noise.

Within my dorm are people who:
are living breathing thesauri
will offer me a beer from thier special stash at 2 am to chill in the  silence together
offer me hugs when my OCD is raging
make my southern accent very obvious
stop by my door every time they pass
think I can find the answer to anything
can take me to Super Target for tangerines and tampons

On my campus there is a place:
where I can cry or laugh or scream... and it is all okay
where I can wander stacks of books that full of ancient wisdom
where a cross stands for over a thousand years of Lutheran heritage in Norway
where food means fellowship as well as sustenance

And in our chapel I can see the face of God....
as I serve the body of Christ to my cohort
Faces upturned bring tears to my eyes
where every voice is that of an angel
and sermons are awe inspiring.