Exercise and Exercises

First, a quick rundown:

-I survived finals without a single meltdown. Progress!
-I've gotten four of my five grades back so far and am pretty happy with them. The fifth won't come in for another month at least because that's just how my professor works, and my perfectionist, OCD self is slowly coming to terms with that.
-We went to Texas for 10 days over Christmas and it was wonderful. We saw almost all of our family and our closest friends. We even saw Les Mis with my college roommates and saw one of Jeff's friends one last time before she leaves for Argentina for 3 months (buena suerte, Kendall!). Oh, and my nephew is adorable and quite possibly the happiest baby ever. Basically, good times all around.

Now, my actual thought for today:

New Years has come and gone, and resolutions have been made (and broken, I'm sure). One of the most popular resolutions is to get in shape, right? And, at least within the Church, another of the most popular is to be more dedicated with spiritual practices. We go out and buy our gym pass or that perfect new devotional, or we decide that this year we'll try yoga or lectio divina, and we go merrily on our way. For about a week.

Then we miss a day. But it's cool, it was just one day, and we rally.

Then we miss a couple more.

Then a few more.

Then the guilt sets in.

Then we think, ahhh, forget it. I'll try again next year.

And then I remember one of the best pieces of advice about spiritual exercises that I've gotten in 23 years: God doesn't care if you miss a day or if you miss a week. God just cares that you're trying.

Now, that's pretty simplified and (as most advice can) can be used to write off an awful lot of slacking, but the sentiment holds true. We're not perfect, and very few of us have the discipline to hold to a regimen of anything for the rest of our lives, whether it's physical or spiritual. But what matters is that we keep trying. We keep going back. The thing about strict workout plans or read-your-Bible-in-a-year plans is that while they can be really useful they can also make us feel so guilty when we miss a day that we quit entirely.

No, several weeks of inactivity followed by one day of exercise isn't a very good pattern for losing weight, but that doesn't mean that getting on the treadmill today without a clearly defined workout plan is a bad idea. You'll still get that benefit today, and having done it today will make it easier to do tomorrow. Reading your Bible or journaling or praying today won't make you an automatic saint, but it'll make you think about your faith a little more in your day-to-day life, and- who knows!- maybe you'll think about how your faith ought to affect your actions when you get put in a stressful situation tomorrow. 

In both our physical exercises and our spiritual exercises, we shouldn't let long periods of idleness prevent us from taking a small step today. That small, unguided step might be the beginning of a habit that we can keep up, one built on grace rather than guilt.

And maybe that applies to blogging, too.

Justice Looks Like...

This morning I've been thinking a lot about why it sometimes seems like conversations between self-proclaimed liberal Christians and conservative Christians hardly ever seem to get anywhere. If I'm honest I fall into the former camp, even if I may not like the stigmas associated with those kinds of labels. So as a liberal Christian, generally spending my time with other liberal Christians, the verse I hear quoted most often is Micah 6:8- "What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?"

It seems so simple.

Do justice.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly.

Now I'm not sure that anyone is really very good at humility, but at least it's easily agreed upon, and people try. At least, I am able to make it through my day claiming the name of Christian by hoping that humility is one of the things we strive for.

Mercy is the same way. I don't think anyone would disagree that mercy is something we are called to. We may not live it out all the time, but we're working on it.

Really, it's justice where we hit a snag. Do justice. Do what is fair. Do what is right. Do what is deserved- that's what justice means. Administer the response that is deserved.

The disagreement , it seems, is over what is deserved. What does this person or that group deserve?

If you think that they deserve judgement and punishment for the choices they make- or worse, for who they are- and I think that they deserve love no matter who they are or what they've done, then yeah, we're going to have an issue. So what does justice look like?

What I keep coming back to is the fact that I am called, first and foremost, to love. Love God, love everyone else. And loving means being patient and kind, not rude or boastful or selfish or irritable, and keeping no record of wrongs but rejoicing in truth. It means wanting what is best for the other person even if it makes me uncomfortable to do so. If God loves me despite everything I've done and calls me to do the same- and even moreso if I believe that God does the same for everyone- then who can I possibly judge?  How can I do anything, or think that anyone deserves anything, but love? What could justice possibly look like besides extending my hand in peace and mercy to everyone I see?

So we come back to loving mercy and walking humbly. Doing justice means both of those things. Being a Christian and being just means loving to be kind, loving to extend mercy. It means being humble enough to recognize that the decision about what anyone truly deserves is beyond me.

I don't know if this kind of thinking will be enough to move anyone's conversations forward, but I keep going because I believe that love changes hearts. Love changes the world. And that's what justice looks like.


(Crossposted on OnFire)

The Church in One Service

This might not be my best post ever, but I just need to take a minute to acknowledge how beautiful my congregation's service was yesterday. It felt like just about everything that the Church does all wrapped up into one service.

First, yesterday was All Saints Sunday- the first Sunday after All Saints Day (November 1) when we remember the saints who have gone before us. This year was particularly difficult for me. November 4 was the anniversary of my grandfather's funeral and today is one month since the death of my good friend's father. In place of a sermon there was a microphone for people to come up and share the names of those they were remembering, especially those who've died in the last year, and then each person lit a candle for every name that they shared. The candles were in the windowsills all around the sanctuary, representing the "great cloud of witnesses" that surrounds us. It was a beautiful image, and I thought I could be strong, share my names, and enjoy the beauty of the moment. Nope. I'm not sure that anyone even heard the second name, and I could barely see the candles as I lit them. It was a good kind of cry, though, the kind that really does make you feel better when you're done, and the just bask in the peace of so many remembered loved ones. The strength of generations of ancestors and examples was tangible.

From remembering our past we shifted to looking to the future as we celebrated the baptism of a good friend of mine who moved here from Iran several months ago. She is a dear, beautiful person, and her joy and excitement was absolutely catching. Her desire to learn and keep asking hard questions is inspiring. After she'd been baptized, she and another friend joined our congregation. Watching two young adults join a "dying" Church was truly beautiful. It made me wonder what exactly would draw them to a congregation- what people my age are looking for. If I had to narrow it down, I'd say that it's three things: the presence of honest, deep relationships, the space to ask deep questions and have deep conversations, and the opportunity to serve together in a way that makes a difference in the world.

That brings me to the last part of the service. Not only was it All Saints Sunday and a baptism Sunday, but it was also a Communion Sunday. I already wrote an entire post about how important I think Communion is so I won't go into that again, but I just want to say how perfect it was as the end of this service. We had remembered, we had welcomed and celebrated, and in Communion we were made one and sent out to be the Church in the world. The only thing that could have made this service a more perfect picture of the life of the Church is if we had gone out and actually served together in some way that afternoon. Nonetheless, it was beautiful.

So. That might not be the most typical service at my congregation, but it's a decent description of what we do as the Church. Remember. Welcome. Celebrate. Give thanks. Share. Send. Serve.

A Confession

I have a confession to make. It’s not much of a confession, actually, if you know me very well. 

I love youth fiction. Love, love, love it.  

Two caveats. 1, no, I am not a creeper. I am, however, a youth minister and have been a teacher in some capacity for the last four years. I can’t help but get curious when I see my kids reading or hear them talking about a book. 2, I hate, hate, hate sparkly vampires and muscled werewolf men and anything that could possibly be labeled “Paranormal Teen Romance.” Ugh. That subset of youth fiction is antithetical to the whole reason that I love the wider genre.  

I spent the first half of this week grieving with and supporting one of my best friends and her family as they worked through the death of her father and all of the arrangements afterward. The majority of the second half of the week was spent at the hospital or with my dad back at home as he experienced inexplicable, excruciating pain in his right leg. When I wasn’t doing those things or trying desperately to pull together enough focus for the homework I brought with me, I was reading- for the fourth time- the Hunger Games trilogy. I’ll be the first to admit that, at least sometimes, the genre is attractive because it’s easy. It’s written to be engaging and accessible to an easily distracted demographic. It’s a good story told simply. This week it let me just relax my mind and be for a while in a world that wasn’t mine.  

The real reason that I love youth fiction, though, is because it opens the mind. It stretches the idealistic imagination. It challenges the reader and the world to be something more. I believe this wholeheartedly, and I am not alone. I have seen articles about it; a girl I knew in high school now has an entire blog devoted to it.  

Some of my favorite books fall into this category. The Hunger Games, obviously. I was one of the lucky generation that got to grow up alongside the Harry Potter series and it will always make the list of my top 10 books of all time. I got sucked into the Percy Jackson series thanks to a student of mine while I was in college. Then there are the older books like The Giver, The Phantom Tollbooth, the Chronicles of Narnia, A Wrinkle in Time (and all of its family of stories), The Little Prince, Ender's Game, and one book that no one but me seems to have read called The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles.

The thing that I love about these books, besides the fantastic stories and memorable characters, besides the incredible imagination behind each of them and that each of them encourages, is the way that they encourage us to take a look at the world around us. Just to notice it, first of all. To take the time to see the world in all of its strangeness, its beauty, and, yes, its pain. But it doesn’t stop there. The really beautiful thing about these books is that they challenge you to see the way the world could be, and to do something about it. 

Really great youth fiction teaches two things. First, the important things in life are not money and stuff; the important things are family, friends, kindness, love. And it teaches that you, no matter how young or how old or how small or unskilled or unimportant, you can change the world if you try. Maybe you can’t save it, but it isn’t always about saving the world. It’s about making your little corner of the world a better place to be, a place where there is peace and acceptance and hope.

Truly great youth fiction says to every reader, in the words of one of the greatest writers of children's books of all time, "Don't give up! I believe in you all. A person's a person, no matter how small!"

Don't Wait

I'm writing this on the plane on my way to Houston. Normally I'd be excited beyond belief right now. Not today. Today I'm going home to be there for one of my best friends and her family as they mourn the loss of her father. He had ALS. It was overwhelming how quickly he declined, but it was inspiring that his spirit- his sense of humor, his faith, his love for his family- never did. He was a great man and I am honored to have known him even in the small capacity that I did.

While I'm in town this week I do hope to spend some time with my parents and grandmother. My dad has a disease called Lewy Body Dementia. He's been sick for 12 years now. He is an amazing man.

No one expected him to be around for my high school graduation. Or my college graduation. Or my wedding. But he was, and he's still here. My best friend never expected to loser her dad at 23. But she did. It doesn't make sense, any of it.

I can't explain why things like this happen, why good people die young or die old, why it's stunningly fast or painfully slow. All I know is that I've already attended the funeral of one good man this week, a man from my church in DC, and now I'll be attending another next week. And I hate that funerals are this outpouring of affection for the one we've lost- not because that in itself is bad, because it's not. We need that as release, we need to celebrate that life. I hate it because I always wonder, "How many times did we tell his person how much we loved and appreciated them while they were still here?" If it's our family, sure. We're pretty good at that. But not always. And how often do we say to our friends, even our acquaintances, "You know? I really appreciate you. You are such a good ________, and I love the way you ________. You always make me laugh/appreciate life/feel better when I'm upset. I'm so glad to know you." Why don't we tell people the wonderful things that we'd wish we could have told them if they were to die tomorrow?

We don't know when our time here will be through. I want to leave this world a better place by the things that I do, but more than that I want the people I love to know just how much I love them. I am heartbroken to be going home for the reasons that I am, but I am so grateful for the opportunity to see my family, to hug them and tell them I love them face to face.

So go tell your family, tell your friends- tell them how glad you are that they are a part of your life. Take advantage of time with them. They are what make life beautiful. And they should know it.

Life and Other Things

Sorry Steve. You're awesome, but I'm calling you out a bit here.

Maybe it's not the best idea to make arguing against something one of my bosses said the focal point of a blog post, but since I have pretty much the coolest bosses ever I'm banking on him getting the gist of what I'm saying and not focusing too much on me disagreeing with him publicly :)

On Monday I was at my internship and- wait, I haven't mentioned my internship, have I? As part of my degree requirements for seminary I have to do field training. Since I've worked in churches basically my whole life and already have a job at one outside of school, my field training is actually at a non-profit/caucus group of the United Methodist Church called the Methodist Federation for Social Action. I love, love, love it. I love the people, I love the work, I love the things we stand for and the things we do. It's amazing. So this quote needs to be in that context. Let's try that again.

On Monday I was at my internship and one of my bosses, Steve, made a comment about how he couldn't be working a project we're doing because he had to assess the state of the house he's trying to sell in upper New York. What he said was, "Yeah, that's life- it gets in the way of things sometimes."

That really bothered me. I think the heart of what he was saying agreed with what I'm about to argue here, but the way he said it just kinda made me say "Whoa! What's that about?!"

Life is not the little things that get in our way. It's not home repair or paying bills or unexpected hassle or work. Life is in the things that give you joy, the things that keep you getting out of bed every day, the visions for the future that keep you pushing back against the world, the things you are passionate about. It's the people you love and the time you spend loving what you do.

For Steve and all of my other lovely coworkers, the things we do at MFSA are what we are passionate about. They are what give us hope and courage. So, when Steve said that I think he really just got his nouns wrong. For so many people, though, I feel like they would've agreed with what he said at face value.

Man. Life just gets in the way sometimes, you know?

Gets in the way of what?! That's what I want to know.

No. Sometimes we let things get in the way of life. Sometimes we let things that don't matter, things that no one will care about or remember in 50 years, get in the way of the people and the time well spent that make our time on this earth matter.

I happen to love my schoolwork, my job, and my internship. I find fulfillment in all three, and often the things that I get to do as a part of my work are a big part of what gives my life meaning.  But truly, it is the people I love that make my life worthwhile. It is because I've been able to focus my work around people that I love my work, and it's for the people that I would drop anything. They don't get in the way of life, they are my life. Sometimes I let things that don't matter get in the way of them.

So let's all get our nouns straight, shall we? That project at work, that unexpected expense, that traffic jam, that super-important-item that you lost: that's not life. Being there for a friend, spending time with your family, laughing and crying together, making the world a better place: that's life. Don't let anything get in the way of it.

The Pictures I Didn't Take

There's this website called unphotographable. I love it. And there were so many things this weekend that I didn't take a picture of, and so many that I couldn't have even if I had wanted to. Here are a few of them.


This is the picture I did not take of two little old church ladies- happily walking down the hall hand in hand.

This is the picture I did not take of my friend Tyler dancing to Christ Has Broken Down the Wall, across the stage and down the aisle and around the room, dancing so beautifully that I couldn't help but cry.

This is the picture I did not take of the joy on my friend Justin's face as he received his first reconciling stole, one of a beautiful crowd of 700 joyfully bestowing them on one another.

This is the picture I did not take of a family, the mother offering communion to her two little boys, and the five year old offering it to his mother in return.

This is the picture I did not take of my friend Mittie standing up to sign the chorus of We Are Called and watching it spread across the crowd.

This is the picture I did not take of the Reverend Amy DeLong, standing up to do what she was called to do, still a reverend and still a faithful, loving companion to her partner Val.

This is the picture I did not take of a grown man in tears as he told us about the recent affirmation of our LGBT  brothers and sisters by the Presbyterian Church (USA), or of the tears in the eyes of the crowd as he told us that he believed we would be next.

This is the picture I did not take of 50 young adults crammed into a tiny room to make a plan of action because they are committed to a church that is not always committed to them.

This is the picture I did not take of a room full of people dancing unabashedly in joy and hope.

This is the picture I did not take of 700 people, hand in hand, singing and praying for the church to draw the circle of their love wider.


If you were at Sing A New Song and want to share some of the pictures you didn't take, please leave a comment. I'd love to see them.