Getting an 'F' in Sabbath

I was reading an article today and I started to cry. Not ugly sobbing, just gentle tears. As I stopped to ask myself where it was coming from I realized quickly how much the article resonates with where I currently am. I am just “so busy.”

A couple days ago my fiancé and I were sitting down trying to figure out when we could get away for a day. We quickly came to the conclusion that we could get away for a day sometime in late January – hopefully.  How sad, that we have to plan 2 months in advance to get a single day away from the chaos.

Why is it like that – why am I like that?

One of my favorite books on Sabbath is Abraham Joshua Heschel’s, The Sabbath. In it, he writes: “Self-respect is the root of discipline: The sense of dignity grows with the ability to say no to oneself.” Saying ‘no’ to things is at the root of Sabbath. We say ‘no’ to external and internal desires and distractions so that we can say ‘yes’ to God.

I have not been saying ‘no’ enough - To others, to myself, to distractions, to anything – really. This frenetic pace of the world has seeped into my bones and I find my head trying to keep up against all better judgement. My heart is crying out and seeking space while my unconscious self has pushed passed the boundary of what is healthy and good.

Enough.

For the next few weeks I shall be intentionally engaging in true Sabbath on Fridays. No email. No facebook. No cleaning. No Twitter. No TV. Yes reading. Yes writing. Yes painting. Yes hiking. Yes napping. Yes praying. 

My reading list for these next few weeks include some tattered old friends:

Freedom of Simplicity, Foster

Sabbath Journey, Nouwen

The Sabbath, Heschel

Sabbath as Resistance, Brueggemann 

I am getting a jump-start on Advent this year. How will my life change if every week, for the next 2 months, I intentionally engage in Sabbath for one 24 hour period every week? It's not going to be easy. I can already identify some things that are going to have to come off the calendar. I can already identify weeks when I will need a moveable Sabbath, like a moveable feast, in order to succeed. But here goes everything!

And if you get an email from me saying I am unavailable for a meeting because there is something on my calendar, please congratulate me as we try to reschedule.

Undercover Priest

I went through my first year of ordained ministry wearing my collar every day. I did so intentionally on the advice of a couple mentors who recommend wearing it daily for the first year so I would then better understand when to wear it and when to go without. At the beginning of the experiment I “knew” I didn’t want to be a daily collar wearer. Nope, I just “knew” I would be a priest who only collared up when I was serving in a liturgical or sacramental capacity. Sure, there would be those gray areas of pastoral interactions or evangelistic opportunities – but all in all, I’d “made up my mind.”

(Isn’t it cute how we know so much when we’re fresh out of seminary?)

And then I was ordained and launched into this grand adventure. There were arduous days of paperwork and emails when I pulled at my stiff, plastic collar thinking, “this is so unnecessary.” There were days when I walked downtown forgetting it was there only to be met with stares and sideways glances. There were days that it felt like it was God’s hand on the back of my neck reminding me I wasn’t alone. Then there were days when I would be reminded of who I am by virtue of my office and it would help me to alter my behavior or language because of that physical reminder.

Somewhere in the course of that year I discovered that I am actually an *almost daily collar wearing priest. The funny thing is, while the black shirt and white collar immediately identify me as a clergywoman to the outside world, I rarely wear it for them. I wear it for me. I wear it on days that I need to remember my role as priest. I wear it not because it makes me better than anyone else, but because it reminds me to be my best self – to be the woman God is calling me to be.

There are still days when I wonder if I should put on a collar. Painting with the Thursday afternoon formation class? Leave the collar home. Spending the day updating calendars and emailing with parents. Wear the collar. Meeting a parishioner for dinner? Depends on the context of the situation. Going to the state house to lobby for equal wages for youth workers? Wear the collar. I have begun to recognize the signs – both inside and out for when I need to bust out that lovely piece of plastic.

But then there are situations like today...

I am writing this from the jury assembly room at the Middlesex Superior Court. Hooray for civic duty! I’ve been anticipating this day for weeks and have debated back and forth whether or not this should be a collar day. I know the collar is polarizing in some cases – so wearing the collar could bias folks in one way or another based on their context and history. I’m not sure which way it would bias them and so part of me feared being immediately excluded for wearing it while the other part of me contemplated if I would be chosen over others by virtue of my calling.

Those who know me know I am terrible at making decisions – especially minor, seemingly trivial decisions. Every decision is earth shattering to this ISFJ. The pros and cons list ends up being tremendously long and usually quite even. This was no different. I can think of 100 reasons why I should or should not wear the collar to jury duty. But I cannot escape the fear I will be seen as “using” that symbol for something other than it was intended. My friend Scott voiced that concern perfectly on the facebook status I posted to solicit feedback to aid in the decision-making process: “Whatever you do, don’t compromise your office to exert privilege from a symbol of the church.” I do not want to be seen as trying to use my priesthood as leverage – ever.

My calling as a priest is to a unique, sacramental ministry. My calling means that I often wear a visible symbol of the church I represent. My calling took years to accept and will take a lifetime to live into. My calling puts me in a position of authority, which is a humbling and awesome responsibility.

I wear my collar most days; often to remind myself who I am and what has been entrusted to me. I wear my collar most days, but not today. There are days when I should wear my collar in the world to serve as a reminder to others that the church is active and relevant – even today. But wearing my collar today, in this room, would not be seen as such. Wearing my collar today would be wearing a neon sign that says "I'M A PRIEST!!!" It would be screaming for attention in a room where my job is to blend in as a randomly selected peer. There are doctors, lawyers, students, teachers, parents, cashiers, Muslims, Jews, Atheists, Universalists, etc... sitting here and none of them are wearing neon signs. I couldn't categorize these people even if I tried and that is the point. I was worried that leaving the collar home would be a denial of what I am - but a piece of plastic doesn't dictate my identity. I know who I am and so does God. If justice is blind than she couldn't see my collar anyway. She can see what is in my heart and that is the place where my priesthood is seeded. 

Changed not ended

Fall seems to have caught me by surprise this year. It is as though in the blink of an eye the trees have turned golden and the night air catches me up short. What happened to August – or even September for that matter? Last I knew it was the end of July and now we drive by neighbors with Halloween decorations up. Life is like that sometimes – change happens suddenly whether we are prepared or not.

Last Sunday night, over dinner at YPF, one of our members was talking about the memorial service that St. Mary’s held for Winchester High School Senior, Patrick Gill, on the night his life was lost in a tragic car accident. This teenager was wide eyed as she said that the priest at St. Mary’s told the congregation that their relationship with Pat had not ended, it had changed. This turn of phrase, so central to our faith, was heard and made new in the circumstances our community has been walking through these past two weeks. In the blink of an eye we went from a community not quite ready to admit that autumn is upon us, to a community in mourning.

Parents have commented that they are hugging their children more tightly. Death somehow seems more real to our children and teens. A touch of innocence has been lost. But in the midst of it all our God reminds us, in the form of leaves the color of Holy Spirit fire and crisp air that invites us to walk more closely to those we love, that time continues moving forward. Our relationship changed, not ended.

I do not know the Gill family, but from all of the reports I have heard they are amazing people whose love is a force from which others are drawing strength in this time. As Christians we believe that our Lord entered into death in order to prepare a place for us. So as we watch the seasons to change and begin to root once again, we are invited into a time to remember what is sacred to us and to shine our love as a light to others who might need a guide out from darkness. My friends, we are an Easter people; “even at the grave we make our song, Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!” 

Responding in Love

Sometimes… no... Oftentimes, the most difficult thing we are called to do as Christians is to respond in love. When we are met with anger, we are asked to respond in love. Greif? Respond in love. Hatred? Respond in love. What if I just want to be human sometimes? What if I want to respond with anger, sadness, frustration, or indifference? What then?

Then it’s time to take it into the stillness that is the heart of God. It’s time to ask God to remind us what is ours, what is theirs, and what is God’s. We can only do our best. We can only be ourselves. But when we consider that we are children of God, that God walked among us to share this crazy world with us, and that, at the end of the day, we are just a bunch of imperfect people trying our best to emulate the example of our Divine brother – it might not make it easier, but it reminds us it is possible and that we are all in this together.

All things are possible through Christ… even and especially, responding in love.

Thank You

A thank you letter to my parish - that really applies to my Facebook family as well:

How do you say ‘thank you’ for a greater act of kindness than you could have ever imagined? That is a question I’ve been blessed to meditate on for the past month. After emerging from the ocean of grief I swam in following my father’s sudden passing, I opened my eyes to see the life rafts all around me. I saw the care and love and prayers of an entire community enveloping me as I learned to move forward into a new frontier. Through this experience, I’ve come to understand that the Parish of the Epiphany is not simply a community: we are a family.

I’ve received literally hundreds of cards from members of the parish I know well, members who I only see once in a while, and members I’ve never met and who live far away but remain on our mailing lists because even when you are far away – you are still part of the family. Acts of kindness have surrounded me since I joined this family two years ago. From a rousing welcome as I moved from DC, to hugs in passing “just because,” to cards and meals and love these past few months of illness, grief, and recovery – I have been enfolded into a new and loving family by coming to the Parish of the Epiphany.

That question, how to say ‘thank you’ for an unimaginable act of kindness, is truly an Easter question. How do we thank our God for coming to Earth to live among us, die for us, and come back to lead us into a new frontier? The answer is: just say it. Our culture tells us we are supposed to repay the favor but we can’t pay it back nor is God asking us to do so. When someone does something that big for us all we can do is be grateful, say thank you, and continue on. The greatest way to demonstrate our gratitude and to say thanks is by living fully and well.

I know the family that is the Parish of the Epiphany is grateful. We live well and try to do better each day. I am grateful. I am grateful for the love with which you’ve buoyed me in this time. And now, I hope we are all ready to dive into the life of God and build up our programs so we can continue to welcome more people into our family. We have an opportunity everyday to say ‘thank you’ to God and to one another for the gift of this wild and beautiful life.

So, thank you. Thank you from the depth of my being. Thank you for being part of this family. Let’s be grateful and let’s make it great.