A Good Stretch of Poetry Days

The past few days have been a good poetry days, in a more well-rounded sense--by which I mean, I've been doing more than just writing down a line or two.  Let me capture what a good stretch of poetry days looks like:

--A few months ago, I had an idea for a poem, Jesus buying a fixer-upper of a house.  I didn't do anything with this idea since I first had it (in late April, as evidenced by this blog post).  But this week, I returned to it, and I'm really delighted with the surprises that the poem offers.

--Yesterday, I read a volume of poems.  My students were working through a time management module and had to enter due dates into calendars and planners.  I thought they would blaze through the assignment, but only a few of them did.  I went back to my office to get something to read.

--That book was Donna Vorreyer's Unrivered.  What an amazing book!  Vorreyer explores themes of aging and the natural world and relationships, and many of her poems have theological imagery and ideas that I didn't expect.  She's also skilled at a variety of forms.  It's a book that demands a re-read, which I hope to do soon.

--I read most of the book in one sitting, and I returned to read the rest of it later in the afternoon.  It's always a very different experience to read an entire collection in one day, and I'm glad I did it yesterday.

--I had a late afternoon phone call after the Endorsement Panel yesterday.  I was invited to be the official poet, a poet laureate of sorts, of the Southeastern Synod's Synod Assembly.  What a cool possibility!

--My mom heard me say that I was invited to be poet laureate of the Synod, which would also be an interesting possibility.

--This morning I returned to my poem about Jesus working on the fixer-upper.  Here's what I wrote, a stanza which surprised me--I didn't know I was going to write it until the lines flowed out:

Jesus wipes down every surface,
scrubbing when necessary.
He paints the walls in a soothing
version of the color that first flooded
the world when God said,
“Let there be light.”

Bishop Elections

I am a seminary candidate housed in the Florida-Bahamas Synod of the ELCA (the larger branch of the Lutheran church, the one that is less conservative and more inclusive).  I wasn't able to go to Synod Assembly, which ended yesterday, because I have a part-time preaching job Sundays at a church in Bristol, Tennessee, and that's too much driving, even for me.

It was the Synod Assembly when we elect a bishop, which only happens every 6 years, so I knew that it would be packed, if past assemblies are any indication.  I also had heard that our current bishop would run for another term, so it didn't feel vital that I be there for the election, unlike past assemblies.  In short, I felt good about my decision not to attend.

According to the few accounts I saw, Bishop Pedro Suarez was re-elected with no drama.  Hurrah!  I wasn't expecting drama, but still one never knows.

I am selfishly glad for continuity.  I have heard horror stories of new bishops who come in and change much in the lives of their seminary candidates, for better and for worse.  I don't know if it still happens as much as it once did, but I have heard of bishops who decided not to ordain entire categories of people:  certain ages, divorced people, and then there's the LGBTQIA+ categories that are under more threat from a bishop change than I am (almost 60 year old, white female).

The Florida-Bahamas synod is much older and whiter than many synods.  I do wonder how the synod might change if a different person was elected bishop.  If the past is any indication, probably not radically.  I do wonder at what point climate change will impact the synod more than it has and whether or not a bishop will need to address it in different ways.  There may be issues that feel much more immediate, and that scares me too.

But for now, I'm celebrating the re-election of a bishop who seems to be working well in the position, and I'm praying for his continued renewal and inspiration--and for the continued renewal and inspiration of us all.

Prayer Stations for a Prayer Chapel

Before we get too far away from the Florida-Bahamas Synod Assembly, let me make a blog post about the prayer chapel I created.  Happily, I had taken careful note of how the prayer chapel looked at the 2019 Assembly:  a collection of stations with prompts for prayers and/or meditation.  I  had no desire to stretch anyone's boundaries about what a prayer chapel could be--and I didn't have any boundary stretching ideas myself.

And let me also acknowledge how hard it is to create prayer chapel ambience out of a cavernous ballroom with lights that can't be dimmed.

Below, I'll print the prompt that was on each table, along with pictures--special thanks to my spouse, who made each table look better.

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Prayer Requests

Write your prayer request on a sticky note and add it to the board. Know that we will be lifting up these prayers as we visit this station, and the sticky notes will be brought to the assembly for the closing worship.

As you look at this collection of prayer requests, let us remember to pray for each other and to pray for those who don't have anyone to pray for them. Let us pray for those who can't right their prayer requests on a sticky note and for those prayers too complicated for a sticky note.






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Praying in color

Use the art supplies and colored paper to pray in images and color. Or doodle or sketch or draw lines/curves/shapes.

What is God saying to you? What are you saying to God?



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Anointing oil

The small bowel contains anointing oil. Take a clean cotton swab from the larg bowel and dip it in the oil. You can put your finger on the oil that is on the swab or you can use the cotton swab as a paintbrush. Make the sign of a cross on your hand or your forehead as you ask God to help and guide you.

Or use these words:

holy hands for holy work

receive this oil as a sign of God's love and faithfulness


Please put your used swabs in the basket.







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Light a candle


Take a candle from the basket and switch it on. Add it to the table. As you watch the light of each flickering candle, pray for those in need.

 


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Scrappy beauty

Think of people and situations that you would like God to transform. Write your yearning for transformation on a slip of paper and crumple it. Add it to the glass vase.

Think about how God's light transforms all the various scraps of our lives into a creation of beauty.







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Scripture speaking


Sit with the Bible for a few minutes. Do you have a favorite passage? Perhaps you want to open to a random passage and meditate on what God might be trying to say to you in this passage.

If you are moved to write about the passage, feel free to use the supplies at this table.

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On this table, you will find many items. Which one speaks to you about your current place in your faith journey?

You might try doing some free writing about the object. For the next 3 minutes, write down anything that comes to mind as you look at the object. You might be surprised what your subconscious offers up when you write this way.

Please leave all the objects for others to experience.

 

Pentecostal Visits on Pentecost

Our Synod Assembly was held In a conference area like the ones that so many big hotels seem to have:  huge rooms with collapsible walls so that many groups can meet throughout the conference area in various configurations. This was one of the first assemblies where I was aware of the group meeting next door. They seemed to have loud music at times when we were trying to hear various speakers.  When we had meditative moments before and during worship, loud music thumped from next door.

Midway through our meeting, we learned the group next door was a group of Spanish speaking women gathered to pray. Clearly, their prayer style is different than our Lutheran assembly prayer style. Knowing that fact however made it easier to be patient.

Our closing worship was on Pentecost Sunday, and for most of the service it seemed like a regular high church holiday:  special robes, special paraments, special music. But at the end of this service, a truly special event happened.

The leader of the group next door came to address our assembly. First she spoke to our Bishop. He is bilingual, and she only spoke Spanish. When she addressed the whole group, one of the younger women translated.

Many of us were moved by this expression of Christian unity. Their faith tradition is very different from ours.  it was a group of Pentecostal women, Latinas, and we were a group of high church Lutherans. The woman from next door pointed out that the wall that separated us was the only wall that was moveable. They had spent time in their assembly with their hands pressed to the movable wall as they prayed for us and the larger world. We had spent time in our chairs praying for them and the larger world.

Will any transformations happen because of this encounter? It's hard not to think of all the gun violence across multiple cities in the US yesterday and feel hopeful.

And yet I think back to the first Pentecost, those disciples with no reason to feel hopeful about the future of the Roman Empire. Then the Holy Spirit came, and they were transformed, and the world was transformed.

The 21st century will offer many opportunities for transformation. Let us hope that the Holy Spirit swooshes through the land, giving all of us a vision for how life might be better and the energy to make it so.

Stormy Weather, Peaceful Synod Assembly (at least in Florida)

 Early this morning, I made this Facebook post:

"Perhaps I should be sleeping at 3am. But this resort hotel bed is too soft, and the dark sky apocalyptic as this tropical blob approaches. For the past hour, it has sounded as if energetic people above us are shoving furniture across the floor, but I think that's how thunder sounds on the 8th floor of a strange resort in the unreal city of Orlando."

And then I got up to check various weather sites, even though I was already fairly sure what those sites would say.   I have decided that I'm too sore to try to sleep again.  My new wrist bone aches, but so do my older, arthritic feet.

I made a cup of coffee in the 1 cup Kuerig machine, which seems to require a lot of force to operate with my left hand.  I miss the peaceful process of my larger machine at home:  the pouring of the water, the scooping of the fragrant coffee, the gurgle of the machine, the smell of fresh coffee filling the room. 

It was strange, making our way across the state of Florida with a tropical storm approaching.  Most of the day was overcast, but occasionally, we'd see sun and blue skies.  We're here for a church synod assembly, but the conference center is at the back of the property with no covered way of getting there.  So we brought extra shoes, and I'm carrying a plastic bag with me, in case I need to wrap my cast.

I've never watched a tropical storm above ground level before.  Our hotel window faces east, and it's been entrancing to watch the sky above the scrub grass and pines, both during the afternoon and overnight.  But it's been disconcerting to be in a conference center with 3 large groups and several smaller ones meeting--our state's COVID numbers are on the rise, and meeting in person in a place where can't sread out doesn't seem wise to me.

I plan to do what I did yesterday:  drop in and out of Assembly sessions and wear a mask when I'm there.

Prayer Chapels, Synod Assemblies, and Storms

Soon we will put the last load of stuff in the car and head off to Synod Assembly.  Our assembly at the Florida Bahamas Synod is likely to be very dull, compared to other Synod assemblies that are happening. I am thinking of the Sierra Pacific Assembly, which is breaking so many hearts in so many ways. This year I am grateful for a dull Assembly. Most years, I am grateful for a dull Assembly.

A few months ago, I got it from call from the assistant to the Bishop of my Synod, who asked if I would do the Prayer Chapel. That means being in charge of setting up prayer stations, and I was happy to say yes to the request. I'm headed there not being sure of this space but my stations are flexible. Because it is a dull assembly year, with no election of the Bishop and no social statements guaranteed to provoke discussion, and because it is held over Pentecost, it won't be a high traffic time for a Prayer Chapel. In short, it's a good year to be the one in charge, and it's my first time in charge so I'm glad it's a low key year.

We also have a tropical storm bearing down on our state, so I'm not sure what that will do to attendance. We are leaving early in the morning so that I have time to set up the prayer Chapel. I don't know what decisions others will make.

We will only be gone about 60 hours, but we have packed a lot of stuff. It's not an assembly that has much in the way of free food, and I don't think the hotel has a free breakfast bar.  We're taking food so that we don't have to buy a lot of meals. In the past, at more well attended assemblies, it's been almost impossible to get a meal in the hotel restaurants because they get so crowded with Assembly participants.

It's also a time of rising COVID numbers, so I feel some hesitation about being in big groups. I am double boosted, and I'll have a mask, but I am still wary.

I just walked outside, both to get some masks from the car and to get a wider sense of the sky. There's been some rain overnight, but right now we are not deluged. Hopefully we'll get out of here ahead of the weather.  I'm glad we no longer own our house in a flood zone. I can leave our condo and not be worried about flooding--that would not have been the case with our old house.

Language Skills and Gendered God Talk

 I am part of the group that is doing worship planning/service creating for our upcoming Synod Assembly.  We are meeting via Zoom, but the Assembly will be held in person.  However, it won't be the same kind of Assembly--there won't be displays or a prayer chapel or musical groups that will move us between segments.  We will minimize the singing during worship.

I might ask why we are bothering to assemble in person at all, and as we plan, we are aware that much can change between now and the mid-September week-end of the Synod Assembly.  I have my eyes on that new Delta variant, and I'm trying not to revert to my Cassandra self, forecasting doom.  And then there's the issue of all the money that gets spent on an in-person Assembly.  But these are not the topics I want to write about today.

Tuesday a group of us met on Zoom to look at the worship services that were created for last year's cancelled Assembly.  Our goal was to see what we could still use, and the happy news is that much of it was still workable.  We had a lot of language about significant anniversaries like the 50th anniversary of the ordination of women that we will take out.

We talked about the music, about who will be singing/playing and when, and about the settings we will use.  I felt my usual stab of envy--how I wish that music came effortlessly to me.  I come from a family of musicians, so I know that nothing is effortless.  Their capacity with music comes from many years of practice, practice, practice.

We needed someone to rewrite the petitions for the prayers, and I volunteered.  And then again, when we looked at the closing service, I volunteered for another writing task.  The leader said, "You'll be our wordsmith."  He said it in a way that made me feel valued.

And then I realized that I was once again assuming that everyone has the same kind of skills that I do, and thus, I tend to undervalue the talents I do have while wishing for talents I haven't developed.  I forget how intimidating writing prayers can be.  

As we were looking at the worship services, I found myself getting irritated at all the Father God language.  I thought, wait, I'm on the worship planning team.  Speak up!  And so, I raised my hand.

I said, "I've been at Synod Assemblies for years, and I'm always irritated by this gendered language of God.  I prefer God the Creator, but if we must have Father God language, could we also make reference to God our Mother?"

Let me stress that I am not some wild-eyed Gen Y kiddo.  I am about to turn 56 years old, and I am surprised to still have to be making this request decades after my fellow feminists first started advocating for inclusive language when it comes to God talk.  My fellow worship planners looked to be about my age or maybe 10 years older, and yesterday, I was the only female on the call.

I expected to be shot down; I was prepared to argue my point further, but I didn't need to.  Happily, my suggestions found agreement or at least no one voiced disagreement.  Our leader said, "Sure we can do that.  I'll make a note to change to expansive language when it comes to God."

Hurrah!

I think that most worshippers will not notice the absence of the gendered language of God.  A reference to Creator God gives people the space to think of that God as a father or a mother or of their favorite art teacher.  Those of us who notice gendered language will appreciate the absence of Father God, and those who need that language will still get it when we use the Lord's Prayer.  I won't fight that battle when it comes to the Lord's Prayer or the creeds, but for the prayers we're writing, we can make the language more inclusive.

In later years, maybe we'll finally live into the call to be all inclusive; maybe the larger church will rewrite the creeds and the Lord's Prayer.  And I expect that in later years, some young whippersnapper who can't be a day over 56 will let me know how my own notions of expansiveness are so very 2020's.

Megan Rohrer, First Openly Transgender Lutheran Bishop

Before we get too much further away from the event, I did want to note the May 8 election of the first openly transgender bishop in the Lutheran Church (ELCA version), the first transgender person to serve as bishop of any mainstream Christian denomination.  

Megan Rohrer has been groundbreaking for decades, so I'm not surprised at their election to be bishop.  Lutherans can be groundbreaking in elections to bishop; there are lots of previously marginalized people serving this way.  But when it comes to leading big congregations, we still don't see many women or people of color or people in same sex relationships or transgender people.  In the ELCA and in most denominations, the big churches are still led by men, and many of them are fairly traditional males, at least to judge by outer appearances:  older, whiter, not-disabled men.

In some ways, progress is so slow.  But I remind myself that back in 2008, Rohrer was serving a church congregation that had been kicked out of the larger denomination for having chosen them as pastor.   In 2009, the ELCA adopted a sexuality statement that allowed Rohrer and other ministers to serve officially and for churches to issue a call.  And now, almost 12 years later, a transgender bishop!

The sexuality statement is far from perfect.  It still allows churches and individuals to opt out of inclusiveness.  It's wishy-washy, or maybe it's revolutionary in its agree to disagree stance.  We won't change the hearts and minds of people by forcing a belief from the top down.  But opening the door and allowing people to serve might be the catalyst to change as people see that these humans once thought to be so different are actually quite similar.

I've often said that most of us have the same longings as humans:  we want to be safe and cared for, we want the children whom we love to be safe and cared for, we want the ones we love to be safe and cared for.  From these yearnings, it's not a great leap to want that same love and care for everyone, whether we know them or not.

I've been following Rohrer for years, and I am thrilled for this election.  Rohrer has been a source of hope and blessing for the San Francisco area for decades, and in the online arena too.  My hope and prayer is that more people can feel that level of hope and blessing and care.  The world is in such desperate need of that abundance.

May more of us be able to accept it.

Making Connections with Feast Days and Commemorations

Yesterday I was part of a Zoom session to talk about planning the worship services for Synod Assembly September 16-18.  The tricky part:  we don't yet know if Synod Assembly will be held in person or virtually.  We won't know until the decision is made, which is expected to come in early June.

If it's held virtually, we don't know if it will be for the full 3 days or something shorter.  Again, those decisions will be made soon.

We did a lot of planning for the worship services for Synod Assembly last year--that Assembly was canceled, so we could use a lot of those elements.  But we may want to change some of the scripture and some of the music.

The worship planning group is led by one of our former bishops, and he talked about looking at the liturgical calendar and being blown away by the connections for each day.  Sept. 16 is the feast day of Cyprian, who was a bishop in Africa in the first century, who advocated for the re-entry into society of apostates.  September 17 is the feast day of Hildegard of Bingen, and September 18 is the commemoration of Dag Hammarskjold, one of the best secretary generals of the UN and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize.  He encouraged us to think about how we might make reference to these days, if we're having worship services on each day.

I was so thrilled by the ways we might use these feast days and commemorations--but more than that, I was thrilled that our former bishop and leader had encouraged us to make these connections.  I thought, I am among my tribe, really and truly.

Summer Cancellations

And now, the summer cancellations have begun.  The Wimbleton tennis tournament will get more publicity, but today I read the email that told me of the cancellation of June onground intensive for my certificate in spiritual direction.  We will meet again in January of 2021, and we will keep reading our way through the book list.

Part of me is not surprised.  I am surprised that the decision was made this early, but I know that there may be some larger issues of which I would be unaware.  Or maybe it's out of an abundance of caution.  There was also going to be a shift in oversight of the program, as the director was going to retire in July. 

Now I guess we may not see him again.  Or maybe he'll come back in January to say good-bye.

In the realms of losses, mine is a small one.  It's a delay, after all, not an outright cancellation.  I can wait an extra 6 months to get the certificate.  I can keep doing the reading and stay connected in all the virtual ways we're creating/using now.  I was not depending on this certificate to make a pivot to a new job.

I think of all the other gatherings this summer:  what will be cancelled?  Political conventions?  Synod Assemblies?  Church-wide gatherings?  Summer camps?  Conferences?

These are strange times we live in.  I know that, but every so often, that knowledge hits me in the soft parts of my body, and I can scarcely breathe.

Sketching Discernment

I slept later than usual this morning--in part because of tiredness, in part because we spent much of yesterday hanging our new drapes.  They are light blocking drapes, so we didn't have the natural light to help us wake up.

I often sleep a bit later than usual on Sundays.  If I can sleep, I'm happy to get a bit more.  But usually, I can't sleep, especially if I know I need to get up for spin class.

I spent part of yesterday falling down a rabbit hole of looking at real estate in other areas--actually, just one other area, my college town of Newberry, SC.  I could get a historic house, but it looks like it may need some work.  I am tired of home repairs, and I understand the sucking neediness of a historic home. 

I could get a goat farm outside of town.  I wonder if the goats come with it.  That site had a picture of some huge pigs as well.

I am astonished by how much one's monthly mortgage goes down when one isn't living in South Florida, with the high property taxes and the even higher insurance.

I also looked through my sketchbook.  I was struck by this one that I made during a presentation on clergy coaching while I was at Synod Assembly:

I also made this reminder for us all. And it doesn't have to be God calling.  It could be your soul or your childhood self or what the world most needs you to be:

And here's a sketch from language from the opening prayer for our Friday Synod Assembly.  It's a good reminder that God can create beauty in even the most chaotic times.  And so can we.  It's also a reminder that Divine timing may not be our timing.  And that there is value in imperfection--another good reminder for our chaotic times.

Creating a Prayer Frame for the Chapel

Once there were raw materials:  strips of fabric, yarn, branches, a frame designed for posters.

I spent Friday morning creating a frame for the prayer project I envisioned for the chapel at Synod Assembly.  I had a smaller frame that I used last year with our church, but I couldn't get the yarn tight enough.  I thought it might do, but by Friday, I wanted something better.  Plus, I bought the frame and didn't particularly want to take it back to the store.

Taking the frames through the Synod Assembly crowds at different days and times helped publicize the fact that we had a chapel.  It was far away from the traffic patterns, but people still found it and made their way to weave some prayers.

The finished project was part of the altar area of the Synod Assembly.  It will go to the Synod Office.  The woman who asked me to participate was pleased with the project and asked if I'd help next year.  Of course I said yes.  I feel good about this first foray into helping create a prayer chapel for Synod Assembly.

As I was getting the baskets after the closing service, a woman rushed forward.  She said, "Wait, wait, I want a picture.  I've been waiting for a good time to get a picture all morning."  Hurrah!

Report from First Full Day of Synod Assembly

As I have moved through the Synod Assembly, I've taken a mental note of many things.  Because I'm traveling with a laptop, I'm not making as many handwritten notes as I might have.  But the laptop is in my room.  I wonder if I'm losing anything?  And of course, I have to wonder if it matters.

I did go back to look at old blog posts yesterday.  I was trying to determine when I was last at Synod Assembly as a voting member--it was in 2013.  In 2014, we came to the Assembly for a day so my spouse could go to a board meeting.  When I looked at my posts on my theology blog, I discovered this one from 2013 that shows that I've been thinking about seminary for a long time.

Happily, Rev. Dr. Mary Hinkle Shore the new dean and rector of Southern Seminary, reminded us yesterday that "there is no sell-by date on a call."

This Assembly has been one of the ones where I wonder why we bother to meet in person.  Most of the people running in any of the elections are running unopposed.  The reports that we've gotten could have been delivered by way of e-mail.

Still, it's good to meet in person, and I remind myself that many of the people here may need these face-to-face encounters in ways that I can never fully understand.  I ran into an old friend from my former church, and it was great to have a chance to sit with her at the WELCA table and catch up.

This year, I'm also in charge of one of the prayer stations in the chapel.  I created a prayer weaving station:

By last night, the loom was half full--that made me very happy.  The prayer chapel is very far away from the rest of the Synod events.  I'm not sure I would have found it if I hadn't been looking for it.  I brought too many strips of fabric, but that's O.K.  I'd rather be overprepared, especially since we drove here, so it didn't take much extra effort/money, the way it would have if I had to fly.

Last night, we went to a church that's also a brewery:

In the photo above, I'm standing next to one of the founders (the one in the white shirt).  He used to have an extensive home brewery set up in his garage, where people would gather to sample his beer and talk theology.  Still, the steps it took to go from the garage to the building they're in now--it sounded daunting to me.

Of course, it sounds daunting because it's not something I want to do.  What vision would make me want to fling myself at all the obstacles?

Last night, I wrote this Facebook post:   "Interesting to go to a brewery that's also a church--I would not want to create/be in charge of a brewery that's also a church. A church that is also an urban/suburban retreat and arts center--now that could be thrilling!"

There have been moments here where I've thought that once again, I'm with a group of people who would only understand part of me, the spiritual part, not the creative part.  The only place where I feel I'm with a tribe of sorts is at the Create in Me retreat.  And even there, I sometimes find myself yearning for more intellectual heft, depending on the type of Bible study we're doing.

That yearning for integration may never be fully realized--I do know that.  But it also makes me wonder if I should be contemplating an on-ground seminary program.  Southern Seminary has just announced a commitment to having their graduates leave with no debt--hurrah.  And it's in Columbia, SC, where I went to grad school and still have friends and community there.

Could we have a Florida base and a Carolina base (whether in Columbia or at Lutheridge)?  As my old boss used to say, "More will be revealed."

Now, it's time for breakfast.  One HUGE difference between this gathering of Lutherans and the gathering of AWP folks:  Lutherans get to breakfast early.  I don't have the omelette line all to myself, the way I do at AWP gatherings, where writers have stayed up too late to get up early for breakfast.

Sketching the Synod Assembly

Last week-end, I tried to follow the Southeastern Synod Assembly from a distance--they were electing a bishop, and I knew two of the candidates.

Our Florida-Bahamas Synod Assembly has not been nearly so thrilling.  We are not electing a bishop.  So far, in most of the elections that we're doing, people are running unopposed.  It doesn't make for a riveting election.

We've heard lots of reports, and while they're interesting, I did find my attention wandering away.  I'd already had a long day, in a way--I was up early catching up on grading and then there was the trip to Orlando and the checking in and the locking myself out of the room and the waiting for elevators.

So I pulled out my sketchbook.  I worried a bit that I might not seem respectful of the speakers, but I decided that if I drifted off to sleep, that would seem even less respectful.  Plus, I noticed lots of folks were tap-tap-tapping on their phones, which seems like a sure sign of lost attention to me.

I didn't have my full collection of markers, but I'm pleased with the sketch:

I found myself paying much closer attention, even though to the casual observer, I might have seemed zoned out.  I can look at that picture and remember some of the information about the good work being done by various groups.  For example, I made the marks at the bottom left of the page when the speaker was talking about seminarians helped by various scholarships.

My pastor is the official photographer for the Synod Assembly.  Yesterday I dreamed of a future where in addition to official photographers and note takers and the video record, we might also preserve a more impressionist record.

Off to a Synod Assembly

I am soon off to Synod Assembly.  My spouse will stay here, since he has a Friday night class to teach.  I am going up with my pastor and his wife--I get along well with them, so the carpool trip to Orlando doesn't cause me anxiety.

We are not electing a bishop, but we shall meet to take care of various legislative things.  I often think of these non-bishop-electing legislative years as a waste, but then I remind myself of the year that it wasn't, the year in 2009 where I was on hand to cast a vote for a more inclusive Synod.  It was not a pre-ordained deal, and my vote really counted.

This year I'm going primarily to be part of the prayer chapel creation team.  I'm creating an interactive prayer station.  I have a suitcase full of supplies to do a prayer weaving project like the one I talked about in this blog post.  More on that in a later post.

I am looking forward to being away.  Yesterday was an exhausting day at work.  Most days feel that way.  I am aware that my life may be telling me something.  I am discerning what the next steps should be.

We will be at an Embassy Suites, which will be a treat for me.  I always think about the money that we spend on these gatherings.  I worry about the better ways the money can be spent.

I haven't been to a Synod Assembly in many years.  I was able to go when we had the gathering in May, but when it moved to June, it was usually during the one time where I couldn't be away in my old job, the week of graduation.  And then, in my new job, I didn't have any time off accrued.

This year, I was so happy to be asked to be part of the prayer chapel team--I was glad that it was this year, when I have some vacation time.

This joy points me in a direction, I think.  I would love to be part of team that's creating meaningful worship.  I would love to be part of a team creating meaningful spaces.

On Sunday, as I was playing with some ideas after church in the sanctuary, ideas with fans and ribbons for Pentecost.  One woman said to me, "You should be an interior decorator."  This woman had once fussed at me for creating spaces for worship that are "too busy, too messy."  She prefers the old altar paraments.  She doesn't think that anything should be put on the altar but the Bible and the communion elements.  I took her comment on Sunday as a compliment. 

I'm assuming, of course, that she didn't mean that I should be decorating people's individual houses.

I've been thinking about seminary and wondering if there are programs out there that combine an MDiv and MFA degree, like those various degrees that combine with a law degree.

But now, back to practical matters.  Let me finish packing for Synod Assembly.

Defining Good Work

The election of a church bishop doesn't often produce such mixed emotions in me.  But over the week-end, I found myself following the election proceedings of a synod in the Lutheran church--not my synod, mind you.  But it's not often that I know personally not one but two candidates for bishop.

We all went to the same college.  I was friends with one of them while we were in undergraduate school together.  The other candidate came along later, and I got to know him through the years when we attended the Create in Me retreat together.  He's the one who won.

He already had a fascinating job in the larger Lutheran church as assistant to the bishop and executive for worship.  I spent some time wondering what elements of the new job made him want to change to be bishop for the Southeastern synod.  Both positions have the potential for making lasting change.

And then, part of me wonders why making lasting change is one of the elements that immediately come to my mind when I think about the nature of good work.

My spouse is certain that he is doing good work as a college Philosophy instructor.  He's frustrated by having so little time to make the classes even better, but adjuncts don't often have the luxury of time and all the resources they would have if they were full-time.

I go through my days rarely certain that I'm doing good work.  Actually, that's not true.  There are elements of my job that let me know I'm doing good work.  Yesterday, a student came by, and I was happy to find out that he was doing well in his English class.  A few weeks ago, he had decided that he needed to drop out of school because of a variety of family crises.  I helped him figure out how to stay enrolled in his English class so that he wouldn't have to leave school completely, and he could salvage at least part of the term.  That's good work.

But I am weary of some of the elements of my job that don't seem as essential to me.  We spend a lot of time looking for reasons why students aren't successful--but we've considered just about every possibility, both the obvious ones (they're working two jobs in addition to going to school) to the more obscure.  Do we really need to keep bringing up the possible reasons and considering them?  Do I really need to color code the classes that the dropped out students were taking so that we see if we see a pattern?   For one program, we've analyzed multiple times, and so far, nothing leaps out.

In an ideal world, we'd talk to the students, and they'd be honest about why they're leaving.  I'm fairly certain that we'd still be facing elements we can't change.  That's the frustrating part of my job.

Days like yesterday leave me dreaming of a different kind of job.  I don't want to be bishop of a synod in my church.  I think that might be a bit too similar to my current job:  lots of problems that I acknowledge but lack power to change.

I dream of a job that lets me lead people exploring the intersections where spirituality and creativity come together.  I dream of a job where I create opportunities for people to do that.  I want to explore how God speaks to us through our creative yearnings.  I want to explore how we can do our part in making the kingdom of God manifest through our creative work.  I want a better phrase than "kingdom of God."

When You Know the Candidates for Bishop of a Synod

On Friday night, my step-mom-in-law sent me this message:  "Don't you and Carl know Terri stagner-don't know her last name. She's running for bishop of the Southeastern synod."

Why yes, yes indeed we know Terri.  We go way back, and my spouse's friendship with her goes even further back, back to when they were both teens meeting at Synod gatherings, that same Synod where she is now on the list of the top 3 candidates for Bishop.

I have spent the whole week-end feeling strange and trying to figure out why I feel strange.  I knew about Terri before I met her; when I got to Newberry College, she was out for a year in a program that allowed college students to go to a church to be an intern of sorts--much the same way the internship program in seminaries sets up those opportunities. 

For a year, I heard about how wonderful she was, which made getting to know the real person difficult for me.  And yet, by the time she graduated, we were very close friends.  She went to seminary, I went to grad school, and we drifted apart, the way people did in those pre-social media days.

We had a reunion dinner last year, but I don't know her enough to assess her skills for the Bishop position.  I don't know many people in that way--primarily because I'm not sure what skills would be optimum.  I think the ELCA needs new ways of being church, and I'm not sure that the current administrative structure is the optimal one for that.  But it might be.

When it comes to many societal institutions--church, higher ed, family, k-12 ed, government--I'm just not sure of what we need to do.  It's easy to be paralyzed, but modern times don't allow that.

And here's where the story gets even stranger.  This morning, I realized that I know one of the other three candidates, Kevin Strickland.  He, too, went to Newberry College, but he attended after I was there.  I know him from meeting him at the Create in Me retreat, back when he was a parish pastor, before he skyrocketed to his current position as Assistant to the Bishop (that's the national Bishop).  He's an amazing Bible study leader, an incredible musician, and extraordinary creator of worship.

I saw the 3 candidates' photos on the SE Synod Facebook page.  The 3rd candidate appears to be a non-white female.

Let us take a minute to pray:  Oh God who makes all things new, please be with the people of the Southeastern Synod as they elect their new bishop.  You have a larger vision than any one of us can imagine.  Please lead your people--today and every day.

It's not my best prayer, but it's heartfelt--and now, to get ready for church, where we will pray some more.

Discipleship, Arts, Worship, Communication

My pastor forwarded this message to me:

Hi Pr. Keith,

I continue to be impressed by what your congregation does in terms of worship and art/s.  I’m wondering if one of your folk would be willing to set up the chapel space at the Assembly in 2019, and specifically include some sort of interactive prayer station?  I can probably find ways to cover the cost of supplies.  I don’t know who you send as voting members to the assembly, but if one of those people would be willing to set up and oversee some (or at least one) prayer/art stations in the chapel space, that would be phenomenal.  And maybe we could find a way to incorporate the created art into closing worship?

Lots of time to finalize details, but wanted to send out the question/idea while it was on my mind.

Thanks!

Peace,

Michelle Collins, ELCA Deacon

Director of Discipleship and Communications

Florida-Bahamas Synod

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That message alone would have made me very happy. But my pastor's reply made me even happier:

Dear Sr. Michelle, 

It is so kind of you !

Kristin Berkey-Abbott is our arts guru - let me check with her and we can go from there. 

Ever in Christ 

Keith 

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Happily, I have been in my new job long enough that I have vacation time--and so, I can go to Synod Assembly in 2019. I'm happy that our efforts are being noticed and that we're being asked to bring these experiences to a wider group.

I'm really happy that my pastor called me the arts guru--it's a job title that I love.  I'm also intrigued by the title of the writer of the e-mail:  Director of Discipleship and Communications.

But what makes me happiest of all is that I'm in a church that is willing to experiment with all sorts of uses of various art forms and creativity: from using creative expression in worship (sometimes for decoration, sometimes for deepening the experience, sometimes for expanding the worship elements, sometimes for transforming the act of worship), to using experiences to bring us closer to each other and God, and using creativity as a way to interpret the Bible and as a way to explore what God might be saying to us.

Continue to Pray for the Synod Assembly

I just heard from my pastor who is at the Florida Bahamas Synod Assembly.  Three candidates remain for Bishop, and the next round of voting begins at 8.

So, let me take a minute to pray.

Creator God, please continue to bless the Florida Bahamas Synod Assembly with wisdom and discernment.  Let those who vote be able to hear the whisper of the Spirit that can lead us to new vistas. 

And since there will be another round of voting later today, let me also continue to pray.  I will add prayers for the candidates who did not win, and for those who saw their candidates not win.  I will pray that we can all gather to support the newly elected bishop, once we know who that person is.

Let us remember that the prayers should not stop today.  Whoever is elected will have lots of work to do, as we all do across the Synod and the nation.

Prayer for the Start of a Bishop Electing Synod Assembly

Today the Florida Bahamas Synod begins its Synod Assembly.  It's an important one:  the Assembly will elect a bishop.

I've been to a bishop-electing Assembly before and found it fascinating.  Part of me wishes I could be there.  Part of me is glad to leave the task to others.  The job of being the bishop of our synod seems to be particularly soul sapping, and even though the candidates know this as they accept the nominations, I am glad to leave the discernment to others this year.

Who can lead us?  And why does this Synod seem so hard to lead?

I know a variety of reasons:  it's a big region, with churches spread out across a landscape that has not traditionally been Lutheran.  But other Synods have similar challenges and seem to be more cohesive and healthy--or maybe it just looks that way from a distance.

We could have a long conversation about this way of governing--did Jesus die on a cross for this?  But as of now, it's the structure that we have, and we can see its potential.  A group of believers that bands together for a larger purpose can be much more effective than one local church dealing with issues all by itself.

For the next few days, I will keep the whole Assembly in prayer.  Let me write a prayer, in case you are of the same mind but need some words:

Creator God, we pray for those who gather in central Florida as the Florida Bahamas Synod Assembly.  We pray for their discernment as they go through the process to choose a bishop.  We pray for the wisdom to choose the best leadership.  We pray, too, for those making other decisions that will be made along the way.  Let the Synod Assembly be a foretaste of the feast to come.