Steve Martin, Isaiah and God.

I read Steve Martin’s autobiography lately.  In it he described comedy as “the art of making people laugh without making them puke.”

I’ve been thinking about that, laughing without puking. To some the thought of puking as a result of laughter may seem impossible, but not to me. I like to laugh, deep, full belly laughter. I enjoy laughing until my stomach hurts. It means I’m enjoying good company. It also means that something new and fabulous has been brought to my attention, that something new is created in me, that for a moment all the old and all the damaged things are forgotten.

I like to see other people laugh like that too. When Adam is about to have a deep laugh he pauses for just a milisecond before sound comes out. You can see his mind turning the humor over, examining its worth. You can see him forgetting, being relieved. When my brother, Jacob, laughs he does it with his entire body and never lets a breath of sound escape. He keeps it to himself but expresses his pleasure with his face and his torso. He is enjoying his life in those moments. He’s almost close to heaven.

Steve was on to something. Laughter is a creation. Puking is destruction. He wanted to create art that would in turn create something in people, without destruction. He wants to bring people to the best of themselves without going over the edge. Sounds familiar…

Isaiah 65:17-19 (New International Version)

¹⁷ “Behold, I will create
new heavens and a new earth.
The former things will not be remembered,
nor will they come to mind.

¹⁸ But be glad and rejoice forever
in what I will create,
for I will create Jerusalem to be a delight
and its people a joy.

¹⁹ I will rejoice over Jerusalem
and take delight in my people;
the sound of weeping and of crying
will be heard in it no more.

These words were words from Isaiah to comfort his fellow captives in Babylon after the fall of Jerusalem. It was a message of hope, a message of forward thinking, a message of restoration. As American people we generally do not see our selves as captives of anything, but no matter who you are you are inevitably a captive of your past.

Steve Martin, Isaiah and God remind us to take delight in our restoration. Laugh and allow a new heaven to be created in you. I’m going to.

“I do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.”–Anne Lamott

Thank God that we don’t have to understand. Happy Sunday Brothers, Sisters and otherwise.

Discovery vs. Invention

Two days ago I wrote a hurried piece about my passion for interfaith dialogue and interfaith work. I was merely two days ahead of the United Methodist Church. For those of you who don’t read the Upper Room let me fill you in. Today’s devotional found on the Upper Room website (http://www.upperroom.org/Devotional/) is about Jonah.

But God said to Jonah, “Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?” And he said, “Yes, angry enough to die.” Then the LORD said, “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also many animals?” –Jonah 4:8-11

I wrote two days ago that I believed in God’s permeating goodness. Is this not also speaking to that great lesson? Not only cannot we not save ourselves by doing good, but doing good to and for others doesn’t mean that you have saved others either. God is working good and merciful things into every persons life from the womb. I believe in sharing what we have, in community and in justice. But God is going to work God’s good with or without me. I can only hope to be open and useful enough to help people to realize God’s work in them–but I can not put God’s work there.

I can discover, but I cannot invent.

Perhaps this is what I should have told Bill yesterday. What are my hopes and dreams and visions for my life? I think it is simply, to be open to discovery and not anxious about invention.

I suppose I did say that in a round-about way to Bill yesterday through a story about the first time I was invited to speak to my congregation.

I was giving my testimony, which I had prepared for with weeks of discernment. I thought that I needed to say something important and truthful because at that time I was pushing against the tradition of the church. I hated “old things” and had a general distaste for “old people.” When the time came for me to speak I brought forth what I had learned, what I experienced through mission and what I knew to be the truth that could change a life.

As I was speaking I looked out at the (majority) elderly audience, and I had an epiphany. I was saying things they already knew. I was bringing experience and truth to the table that was not just influential in my journey, but that was influential in everybody’s journey. They were listening to me ramble on about the things they had already learned and had probably tried to teach me.

It was almost painful to watch them recieve me. It was humbling and stumbling. I had not invented the things that I was saying or feeling or experiencing. I had discovered them.

You can’t invent the truth for other people of other faiths any more than you can invent the truth for yourself. You discover, and you discover doing regular things. Sharing food and laughter and stories. You discover these things by walking and being good company and helping to clean up messes.

This is what candidacy is–discovery vs. invention–weeding out what you invent from the truth that can be discovered. This is what Christianity is too. This is what humanness is and what it is to be broken and resurrected.

I hope that as you read this you find peace with the people and events around you. “Do you have right to be angry?” God would say. “You did not labor and you did not grow these things.” Go out and discover today.

What will I say?

In less than an hour I will meet with Rev. Bill Wilson, Assistant to the Bishop and my boss (indirectly). He wants to know “what my visions and dreams” are. What will I say?

I’m rarely at a loss for words. And I’m suspecting that candidacy will come up in conversation as my visions and dreams are somewhat wrapped in my future ordination. But how am I am supposed to transpose my ideas about candidacy into those visions and dreams? Should I tell Bill what I think or I want to do, should I tell him what I’ve already done? Is candidacy an action or an idea; is it about practice or discernment?

During Annual Conference Bishop Nhiwatiwa (Zimbabwe) gave a great sermon on Matthew 16:18-20 on the historical question from Jesus to his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” Bishop Nhiwatiwa suggested that this question shows Jesus’ teaching strategy. That there are levels of questioning; a lower level question coming in the verse before, “Who do others say that I am?” and then the higher level whammy. He said that it is important for us to know who we say Jesus is, because the questioner also holds the answer. What truth!

I know, pretty much, who others say that I am. That is low level. Who do I say that I am, now that is something to think about. As I graduate, as I market myself to graduate schools, as I find a job, as I meet new people, and as I go through candidacy it is essential that I figure out what to say. Who do I say that I am…

You, as a reader along with Bill, would like very much if I answered that question in a neat packaged way. But who I am is a little bit messy, and who I am cannot be packaged. I could say that I am is a young woman historically bound to the hills of West Virginia, a Christian and a student. I could also ramble off  a lot of the socially constructed hats I will wear in my life: preacher, wife, writer, etc. But that is not what I will say.

Candidacy is helping me to focus in on the question, but it is also expanding the answer.I am a lot of things that I never imagined I would be. I have proven things to myself through candidacy that both affirm and frighten my call. I’ve done some stupid things and I’ve done some really great things. Where does this leave me?

What will I say? I will say the same thing the disciples said.

Jesus is Jesus and I am not.

By all my names

Eboo Patel, the founder of Interfaith Youth Core, and I met at United Methodist Student Movement. For every reason you should check this out.

http://www.ifyc.org/about_core (link on the blogroll to the right)

I have been reflecting on my trip to Sojourners and I think the reason that I felt so uncomfortable there was because they are specifically Christian. Being Christian is important, but all the things that scream “Jesus” to me are the things that bring me into relationship with other faiths.

From my favorite part in the Chronicles of Narnia:

“It isn’t Narnia, you know,” Sobbed Lucy, “It’s you. We shan’t meet you there and how can we live, never meeting you?”

“But you shall meet me, dear one,” said Aslan.

“Are-are you there too, Sir?” said Edmund.

“I am,” said Aslan. “But there I have another name. You must learn learn to know me by all my names. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little while, you may know me better there.”

To my favorite lines in other books (by Sara Miles):

“What happened once I started distributing communion was the truly disturbing, dreadful realization about Christianity. You can’t be a Christian by yourself.”

To the very scriptures themselves:

“At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need. Then there will be equality, then there will be community.”–2 Corinthians 8:14

Everything about my life points to community–from the way I was raised, to the diversity of my friends, to my deep appreciation for God’s permeating goodness, to the things I read to the natural way in which I connect to people–everything is telling me to do interfaith work. Our brothers and sisters are not exclusively Christian.

If the world is my parish, then everyone in the world is a parishioner, and that means non-Christians. And what you do with parishioners is meet them where they are, talk their talk in order to teach. Walk the walk that you know to be true, while simultaneously accommodating their vocabulary. This is pastor 101, right?

My point is I belong much more at the interfaith youth core than I do at Sojourners, and I invite you all to take a look at the interfaith work happening right now because it is exciting and because it is yours and mine to do.

Step by step

My pastor, Alicia Rapking, recently asked me to write a letter to the Pastor/Staff Parish Relations Committee telling them what kinds of things I have completed within the candidacy process. She told me that I didn’t have to do anything fancy, just tell the people what I’ve done, what I’ve learned.

I thought to myself, “Well, that should be easy.”

However, like much of the candidacy process, the letter proved not to be easy at all.

As some of you may know the candidacy process is somewhat spelled out into distinct steps. If you are curious about these steps you can find them the General Board of Higher Education and Ministry website: http://www.gbhem.org/site/c.lsKSL3POLvF/b.3474289/k.E61D/Beginning_Candidacy.htm (you can also access this by clicking on the “candidacy steps” link to the right under “blog roll”).

I thought I knew these steps. In fact, I have prided myself for the last two years in excelling through the process. I have taken a lot of time and effort to learn the steps and then to execute them. Then I sat down to write a simple letter to my PSPRC. When I pulled my copy of the steps out and tried to write about the ones I have completed I realized that there is no such thing.

The steps, as they exist, seem simple enough. You contact your District Superintendent, you read some books, you get a mentor, you meet with some boards and agencies and churches and you do some work and one day when you’ve done all of these things in addition to receiving an undergraduate degree and a Masters of Divinity you get to be ordained. You get to be ordained and do the dirty, uncomfortable, sensitive and blessed work you knew you were capable of all along.

They seem simple enough, but as I sat down to write that letter I began to reflect on how far the steps have brought me. How many of them happened out of order, how long they each took, what kind of joy and discomfort each of them have been connected to; I began to remember how excited I was when I first started and how tired I seem now. I began to truly think about what I have completed. Yes, I have made some of those contacts and I have met with some of those boards and I have done some of that work, but what have I completed? What have I learned?

I’ve decided, as not to overwhelm myself, to make a top ten…

TOP TEN THINGS CANDIDACY HAS SHOWN ME

10. Talking is good-reflecting on what you’ve done is not only good, it is necessary.

9. Ministry is complicated-so why should candidacy be any different.

8. Don’t be shy -I think that all the confusion is a set-up to teach you how to ask for help.

7. Time is relevant- don’t panic when your clock and the church’s clock isn’t reading the same time, everything is working for good.

6. It takes a village-the only way to survive candidacy, ministry and life is to do it alongside others.

5. You don’t know-after my baptism (I was 13) Alicia asked me if I knew everything I needed to know, I answered yes. I was wrong; you’re never going to know everything you need to know to do your work.

4. Church means, well, I don’t know…-church can’t be defined because definition takes out mystery and inclusiveness.

3. Too legit to quit-M.C. Hammer knew a little something about the church: candidacy isn’t always easy, neither is ministry; actually  most things that matter aren’t; the point is, once you’re called you are officially to legit to quit.

2. Art in difference-there is a real art in difference, each person’s journey to ordination is different and there is beauty in that, and where there is beauty there is God.

1. Step-by-step was just a tv show and has no bearing in real life.

I wrote the letter, very professionally without a top ten, but what I really learned is spelled out above. If you want to be a candidate, I hope you learn some stuff too. If you want to talk to me about what you’ve learned you can e-mail me at rexrodekm.wvwc@gmail.com or comment on the blog.

Remember community is the only way, you’re too legit to quit, and step by step is fake.

St. Gam, the Benedictine

I just had a very, very good conversation with J.F. Lacaria. We were discussing the process of my candidacy, how confusing and beautiful it all seems to be. There was a lot of weight to the conversation, and I was appreciative to have that conversation with someone. He said some things that hold real truth for me and I am grateful, but there was one unexpected turn in the conversation that just keeps coming back to me.

He suggested that I read about the Benedictine order, specifically about their dedication to obedience. He thought I would find it fascinating to learn about the strength and order and truth that comes out of obedience, to which I told him that I already knew to be fascinating…

I explained that although I know almost nothing of the Benedictine order, it is the same strength in obedience that I found to be so comforting in Greek Life. For those of you who are skeptical of Greek life, please allow me to continue. I told J.F. that when I moved to Buckhannon I immediately realized the need for me to have a church family, because I missed mine so much. But that for the first months of school I did not find any order, any church, or Bible study that I really fit into.

It wasn’t until I began to pledge that I found a strength in covenantal relationship. It was within Alpha Gamma Delta that I was pledged to love the people who came in, regardless of my personal bias and regardless of who fell into leadership. It was in Greek life that I learned to resonate with one voice, obediently. It was there that I’ve learned to be in community with those whom I do not choose, but that the order chooses. It was in AGD that I learned submissiveness, not in a bad way, but in the way that we are all submissive to one purpose and one mission–to be pursued for the order’s betterment at almost any cost, but that to be overzealous is to be counterproductive.

J.F. looked a little confused and then smiled. Apparently my sentiments echo that of the Benedictines.  I have found home in covenant and I have found home in obedience. These things that are so sacred and so central to ordained life, these are the things that sorority is providing (not my religion courses). God is good all the time, and surprising too.

Who would have imagined that my loyalty to Greek life would someday reflect my loyalty to the Church and to God. Is it not the same in the church? We are to love it, its people and its rule for the common good. We are to live obediently within it, with community and shared intimacies. In both we are to love its leaders and pray for its mission. Essentially, we are called to both. It is my faith in God that shows me how the two intersect, and it is my faith in God that motivates me to act truthfully and justly in both. What a blessed intersection.

I learned to be a monk in sorority-ha. Just call me St. Gam, the Benedictine.

but i have a steeple

i am a little church(no great cathedral)

i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april

my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth’s own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness

around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains

i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing

winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)

-e.e. cummings

Somtimes, when I walk through the church that I work in I really miss Jerusalem. When I was in high school I used to drive to Philip Barbour the “back way” from my house so that I could stop at Jerusalem and pray in the cemetery. I know that it sounds weird now, but it was a great time for me. I felt so centered, even if it was just for a few minutes in my day. I miss driving by it in the morning. Now I am surrounded by a lot of traffic and a lot of noise.

I will always be a little church. Some people think that I don’t have the mind for a little church, perhaps for them I will add a steeple. I have a cathedral perspective and cathedral dreams, but my work and my life and my hopes are in a little church. I am a little church (no great cathedral), but I, I have a steeple.

my initials.

My family and I celebrated my birthday this weekend, which was amazing. Adam made me a book cabinet, and when I say “made” I mean found the wood, structured it, soldered stained glass panels with my initials in it and then put the things together so that it would hold books. It will also hold my heart. It’s so beautiful.

Adam isn’t the only one who made my birthday super special. I had dinner with family and friends. My favorite gift from my mom was a charm for her/my charm bracelet (heirloom jewelry) and Boo took me out for a night on the town. It was great.

I’m not saying this just to brag about how awesome my family and my gifts were, I promise. I was telling you all this because I want to point out that my family and friends thought about what was special to me. And it got me to thinking about how special they are, and what a twisted and loving circle I exist in.

Today at my grandparents’ church in Elkins an eternal light was placed in memory of mamaw Barb. They asked me to bring the sermon today as it was a special service, commemorating United Methodist Women, specifically my grandmother. As I looked at the light I thought about the church, how they did something that was special to my grandfather and to my family. And then I looked at my grandfather and his new wife, my stepgrandmother, and I thought about the love it must take for her to sit through these moments with him as we all remember her, the first wife, so to speak.

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m immersed in love all the time, it’s as if L-O-V-E were my initials.

I am blessed beyond belief and I wanted to take this opportunity to let everyone, my church, my family, my roommate and everyone else who has touched me and is connected to me that I love and appreciate the web of grace they have created around me. It is humbling.

Beer.

I know that it has been a few days since my last blog. I would apologize, except that I am not all that sorry. After writing so intensively and thinking so much for a week I decided that I deserved a slight vacation.

Adam told me a story recently that helped me come to this conclusion.

WARNING: There is semi-explicit content below about the process of bulls becoming steer below (no pun intended).

Apparently once upon a time Adam’s uncle was raising a bull. Adam’s uncle, against the advice of some, decided to make the bull a steer (to castrate it) when it was already well on its way to adulthood. Most bulls become steer during their infancy, but Uncle wanted to perform the surgery anyway. And by surgery I mean to strategically place a rubber band until gravity and nature do what they do.

They cornerned the animal in a wood building near the house. The building was originally intended to hold hogs, and so when the bull caught wind of the plan it didn’t take much for him to go through the wall. When the rubber band was placed the bull became so disgruntled at its inadequate size (as I said, meant for infants) that he literally ran through the wall like a Looney Tunes character. He had to escape, not being a dumb animal he knew what was going on was not healthy or appropriate.

He was right.

After the bull was subdued and after the rubber band was :cough: no longer necessary the surgery site was inspected.  The bull was still half bull. This “bull” was also half steer, if you catch my drift. Adam and I like to call this creature Beer.

How does this relate to my vacation? What is the moral?

Well, at times, despite what is going on around you, you can trust that you know what is the most appropriate way to keep yourself healthy and whole.

haha, and I needed a blog-cation. God bless you, the reader, for making it through that story and the loose point that it makes.