Seminary as Tool Box

I've been feeling a variety of emotions as seminary classes start.  I've been doing the readings, and I'm thrilled--I'd be happy reading these things for fun, and in fact, they're similar to academic texts that I've read just because I'm interested.  I've enjoyed reading the introductions that my classmates have posted.  What an interesting group!

I'm also feeling odd about my decision to do something just for myself, something that takes me away from others, at least while I'm in my synchronous classes.  I'm feeling . . . selfish.

So I was pleased this morning to find words from the Wesley Seminary dean in his reflection at the start of Fall 2021 term.  After quoting Isaiah 40:  3-5, he writes:

"As Wesley Theological Seminary launches a new school year in the midst of a pandemic, racial inequality, and natural and human caused disasters, it feels like we are in the wilderness. I can certainly relate to the feeling of the Israelites who left the bondage in Egypt following Moses through the wilderness to the Promise Land.

And yet in the midst of this wilderness, our faculty and students pick up the books and study. On the surface this could seem like a selfish and frivolous task, to read and write when there is so much wrong with our world. And yet we study with the hope of building a better tomorrow. God promises to the Israelites is to reach a place that they cannot yet see. They walked together with the pillar of cloud and fire (Shekinah) that offered shade in the day and warm and light at night."

I love this vision of seminary as both a time in the wilderness and the way out of the wilderness.  I love the idea that seminary study can be part of the toolbox with which we will build the world God calls us to create.

Monarch Butterflies: The Late August Report

 If you need a sign of hope, here's a monarch butterfly sighting for you:

Two weeks ago, my spouse moved milkweed plants from the other house.  Did we also transport monarch eggs?  We had six caterpillars at one point.  We ended up with at least 3 chrysalises, and yesterday, a butterfly emerged out of one of them.

The chrysalis was hanging off the table, and we tried to avoid the area for a week.  Yesterday morning, our efforts paid off.  We watched the butterfly for a bit, and then we went to church.

My spouse returned in time to watch the butterfly fly away.  Was it confused by being six stories off the ground?  It did take some time for the butterfly to adjust to the strange way the wind works in the U of the condo building.  It landed on the top of a palm tree and then it flew away towards the Arts Park.

And this morning, the 2 other chrysalises have butterflies emerging.  

We may not have the kind of thriving butterfly gardens that we've had elsewhere, but there are 3 monarchs in the world today that weren't there last week because of our little 6th floor balcony butterfly garden.

Hands, Prayers, and Spiritual Practices

I saw a video by the former bishop of the North Carolina synod of the ELCA, and he showed us how to use our hands to pray.  No, not in the folded hands posture, but by using each finger as a prompt for prayer.  It's not his idea, and he gave Pope Francis full credit.

As I did some research, I am feeling like I'm the last person to discover this prayer.  I used it the other morning on my walk, and found it a potent way to pray.  Here's how it works:

We touch each finger as we pray.  The thumb is closest to the body, so it reminds us to pray for those we are closest to, our family and our friends.  The index finger points, so we remember to pray for educators and health care workers, those who point to important information.  The third finger is the tallests, reminding us to pray for leaders, all sorts of leaders.  The fourth finger, the ring finger, is the weakest (really?), so we pray for those who are sick, those who are going through difficult times, those who feel ignored.  The fifth finger reminds us to pray for ourselves.

As I've been writing, I've been thinking about the practice of prayer beads, which seems to fill the same kind of purpose of reminding us how to pray while giving us something physical, something tactile to do as well.

I'm also thinking of the anti-anxiety practice of tracing one's hand, which really does work for some of us.  There's also some breath work involved for the most effective approach.  

Part of the effectiveness of both the prayer and the hand tracing come from the fact that for most of us, our hands are always with us.  I might not always have prayer beads with me, but I always have my hands.  I look at my hands frequently throughout the day.  That, too, might remind me to pray.

Even though I might be one of the last Christians to have considered the use of hands in prayer practice, I'm happy to have made the discovery.

A First Look at Seminary Classes

This fall, I return to school as a student.  I'll be an MDiv student at Wesley Theological Seminary.  Although classes don't officially start until next week, students get access to the course shells in advance, and I've been trying to take advantage of that.

I decided to keep a copy of the syllabus separate from the course shell, just in case I can't access it at some point (power failure, system being upgraded, that kind of thing).  And in light of the total technology failure at work, I also printed a copy.

Yesterday, I started downloading course materials for the same reasons.  But I won't print all of them, at least not yet.

The most important thing I've been doing is thinking about the course requirements:  the readings, the discussion posts, the essays.  I'm intrigued at my responses to the course requirements.  Once I got the textbooks for the classes, I wasn't as worried about the readings.  And I have continued to write in a variety of ways in the years since I graduated from college, so I'm not worried about that.

I am relieved that the course papers don't seem to require access to a research library, but I'm also relieved that the Wesley library will ship books to me, at least according to the new student orientation course materials.

In fact, what's strange for me is that I'm looking at the page requirements and worrying about my ability to be concise.  When I was in grad school for my advanced degrees in English, I fretted the other direction:  how would I ever write 10-20 pages?  Now I think, hmm, only 4 pages required?  Can I really develop these ideas in just 4 pages?

I feel fortunate that I've been writing daily during all the years between undergraduate classes and now.  Not everyone will have that part come so naturally to them.

One of my classes, the Hebrew Bible class, has a map quiz the first week of class.  My immediate reaction was panic, but then I reminded myself that I have plenty of time to study, that I have study aids, and that I'm allowed to use those during the quiz.  It's doable!

"It's doable!" was my reaction to many aspects of my classes.  I haven't been real sure what to expect so finding out that it's doable is a relief.  I won't let myself think about how many of the pieces of my life need to stay stable for this to be doable.  They are likely to remain stable, and if something happens (sickness, internet access, computer crash), I know how to pivot.

Decades of teaching means that I know how to be a good student.  I will be a good student. 

Pastor of Public Witness, Theologian in Residence

One of the things that makes seminary appealing at this point in the life of the church is that my brand of Lutherans are developing some interesting approaches, in addition to parish ministry.  And yes, the interesting approaches do sound more appealing than many brands of parish ministry.

When I type out the words "parish ministry," I realize that I'm thinking of pre-pandemic parish ministry.  Who knows what that will look like as this pandemic shifts, and as humans adapt.  I don't think we'll ever be going back to pre-pandemic life, but I can't tell what the future will look like.  I'm fairly sure we won't vanquish COVID-19, the way we once thought we would.  It's too contagious and too widespread and because it's not as lethal as a disease like Ebola, it won't burn itself out or be containable.  When I think of the future with a disease like COVID-19, I can imagine multiple possibilities.  But I digress.

Back to interesting possibilities.

On Friday, August 20, Nadia Bolz-Weber was installed as pastor of public witness by the Rocky Mountain Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.  I first read about this development in this article in Religious News Service.

She is not the first to have this kind of position.  The most famous may have been Mr. Rogers, who was an ordained Presbyterian minister, and the Presbyterian church of his time recognized that he was performing a vital ministry with his television show.

Some people might shrug and wonder why it matters to Pastor Bolz-Weber.  We might see her published books and her extensive appearance schedule and think that she's so wealthy that she doesn't need the backing of the church.

I have no idea what her financial situation really is, but I have met enough writers and artists to know that just because there are books that sell doesn't mean that the financial future--or even present--is secured.

And what's different about an ELCA pastor is that there is a call, and one can't be away from call indefinitely and pick right back up again.  It's a complicated concept that I don't want to unpack in this blog post, but it's an important factor.

This morning, I saw a Facebook post about a different possibility.  Bishop Megan Rohrer made this announcement:

Offering from those gathered in person and online at my upcoming installation will be used to create a theologians in residence program to help the Sierra Pacific Synod in anti-racism efforts, to expand our welcome and to care for creation. Theologians in residence will be available for preaching and teaching at congregations and participate in online and in person Synodical events. If you would like to support this developing program, you can donate at: www.tinyurl.com/SPStheologians

I love the idea of a theologian in residence, especially since it sounds like it might be a short-term assignment.  While I understand the need for long-term pastoral presence, care, and leadership in a local church, I also like the idea of temporary assignments that can help a church with diversity.

Let me specify here that while I support the current attention to diversity of race, I also see a need for other types of diversity.  I'm thinking of the times when I would have flourished as a parishioner if we had a theologian in residence that offered us an approach to spirituality that was more contemplative or more creative.  Most of the churches of which I've been a member do a fine job of fellowship, and many of them have done a lot with social justice/charity, and a few of them have done a great job of intellectual stimulation, and I have rarely found a church that does all of that equally well.  We tend to rely on a solitary pastor to do it all, and that just rarely works.

I should also clarify that I've usually been a Lutheran in areas where there weren't many Lutherans, and thus, we didn't have the kinds of churches that could support a large staff, or much of any kind of staff beyond the pastor.  I've been part of churches that could barely afford the pastor.

A Theologian in Residence might not change that, but then again, it might.  It could be sustainable for a season, if not for the life of the parish.  It's an interesting approach that I haven't seen before in the ELCA.  I look forward to seeing where this development might lead.

Meditation on This Sunday's Gospel

The readings for Sunday, August 29, 2021:

First Reading: Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9

First Reading (Semi-cont.): Song of Solomon 2:8-13

Psalm: Psalm 15

Psalm (Semi-cont.): Psalm 45:1-2, 6-10 (Psalm 45:1-2, 6-9 NRSV)

Second Reading: James 1:17-27

Gospel: Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

My favorite science fiction writer, Octavia Butler, had a theory that humans are both excessively intelligent and excessively hierarchical, and these two traits are often in opposition. It is our tendency towards hierarchy that so often gets us into trouble. We divide the world into the pressed and the wrinkled, between the vegetarians and the meat eaters, the drinkers and the A.A. folks: essentially between the people who live right (which means according to the rules we accept) and those who don't.

We often think that the Pharisees in Jesus' time were rule-bound people who couldn't see that God walked among them, even as Jesus was right there before them. While that is true, it's also important to realize that the Pharisees thought that following the rules to the letter was the trait that would save the Jews. We must not forget that the Jews of Jesus' time were under threat from many sides. We forget that Rome was a brutal dictatorship in so many ways, and that the peace that the Jews had found could have been (and eventually was) easily overturned.

We fail to realize how similar we are to the Pharisees. We currently live under a rigid system very similar to that of the time of Jesus, and if you don't believe me, just watch any organization try to get anything done.  We also seem to be living in challenging times where people don't want to make any kind of sacrifice for the larger good.  In some ways, at least the Pharisees had a motivation that I can understand.  Many of our debates in 2021 leave me shaking my head.

We look back to past periods of humanity, and we like to boast that we're much more flexible. We can't imagine the ritual purity laws that were in place in Jesus' time. We can't fathom the rigidly stratified societies that most humans have created. We renounce a time when women couldn't get credit in their own name or a time when blacks and whites had separate bathrooms, but those days aren't that far away from our own.

Jesus reminds us that so many of our rules come from humans, not from God. We think that God ordained the rules that we embrace, rules which so often tell us what not to do, but Jesus reminds us that there's one essential rule: love each other. God will judge us on the quality of our relationship and how much love we show each other.

Jesus reminds us again and again that love is our highest nature and that the actions that move us towards being loving humans are the ones that we should take. We can operate from a place of love or we can act from a place of fear. As we act out of love, we will find ourselves in company with God.

The Feast Day of Saint Bartholomew

Today is the feast day of Saint Bartholomew, who many of us may think we don't know.  But Bartholomew was also Nathaniel--one name is the Greek version and one is Hebrew.  We think of Jesus as living in a distant outpost of the Roman empire, and in a way, that's true.  But that area of the Middle East was also a crossroads, where various cultures had influence:  Greeks, Jews, Romans, all sorts of people coming and going by sea and by land, all sorts of trade happening, all sorts of cultural elements mixing and matching.

Nathaniel was the disciple who asked, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?"  He's won over when Jesus can tell him that he was just under a fig tree.  In the Gospel of John, he's the 4th disciple called, so he's among the first.

Nathaniel is martyred for his faith; his killing was particularly gruesome, including both flaying and beheading.  But before he's killed, legend has it that he brought Christianity to both India and Armenia.  He is the patron saint of nervous and neurological diseases, bookbinders, shoemakers, and makers of leather.  I always find these collections of patron saint job descriptions intriguing.  Is it because he was flayed that he's watching over leather makers?

If we lived in England in earlier centuries, we might see Saint Bartholomew's day as the beginning of a seasonal shift:

"Saint Bartholomew / brings the cold dew."

And here's another:  

"If Bartlemy's Day be fair and clear, / We may hope for a prosperous Autumn that year."

So let's see what the day brings.  It's hard to continue hoping for a prosperous autumn, given the disease spikes the world is facing, and the collapse of a variety of foreign policies, and all the ways the world is so desperately in need of healing.  Our weather forecast here in South Florida calls for sunny weather, so here's hoping.