Julie’s News from Maryland

My professor returned my exegesis paper today in my mailbox.  It is clear that he read the entire paper (don’t you always wonder if professors actually read your whole paper?) as he has underlined many things.  He also added thoughtful comments and extra questions in the margins.  I was pleased with the places that he had validated my thoughts and grateful for the places that he gave me more to think about.  His short summary at the end stated that I had good attention to detail but could have spent a bit more time on one of the big themes.  All-in-all I thought it was good. 

Now for the grade.  Wait for it.  Are you ready?  B+/A-.  That was what was written on the paper.  I’ve never gotten a grade like that.  When I read it I just started to laugh.   I’ve mentioned before that sometimes I feel like the grades are a bit arbitrary. Now it would seem that they can also be a little ambiguous.  =)

You know that sinking feeling you get in the pit of your stomach?  The one you get when you realize that you’ve screwed up and that you’ve let something get away from you that you won’t get back.  I had one of those sinking feelings today over the seemingly silliest thing.  Today is Wednesday.  Ella has ballet class on Wednesday.  I got lost in the week and wasn’t really paying attention to the day and I totally forgot about ballet class.  Rick realized at 9:00pm that we had forgotten.   The sinking feeling came when I realized that this is the last ballet class of this session that I’ll be able to attend with Ella.  I’m away next week and CPE begins the following week, preventing me from attending their informal recital.  I was going to ask the teacher to let me watch the last bit of class today so that I can see her rehearsal, but I missed it. And I had that sinking feeling.

The sinking feeling seems like such an overaction to me.  Why do I feel so bad about not seeing this class?  I watch portions of her class every week and I’ve seen them dance through the glass.  And, it’s not like I’m never going to see her dance again.  She dances constantly and I’m sure she’ll take more classes.  But, still that sinking feeling is there.

I think maybe I’m realizing what it is.  My babies are getting big.  Ella is such a big girl now.  She is thoughtful and smart and makes decisions by herself.  She can dress herself and even get her own snacks.  Nicholas can beat me at chess and knows more about life sciences than I do.  He even reads now.  Granted, those who know me well know that I have been longing for this stage for a long time.  The baby stage is not my favorite and I love having kids that play strategy games with me (Ella regularly beats me at Uno).  I love taking them to museums in the city and seeing art through their eyes.  I love playing ball with them in the park.  I love having big kids.  But, I see my babies slipping away. 

I’m not even sure I know exactly why I am sad about that.  i guess it is the passing of time.  What they were as little babies is no longer.  I suppose that the time is going faster than I thought it was.  It occurred to me the other day that in 2 years, Nicholas will be 9 years old.  At 9 years old, he is halfway through the time that he will live with me.  Halfway!  In two years, I’m halfway through having Nicholas in my house.  That went by so fast.  Will the second half go by faster?  How will I savor the time with him?  It is a strange, new feeling for me.

Tomorrow is our 10th wedding anniversary.  10 years of marriage.  Time goes by.  I’m working on turning that sinking feeling into gratitude.  I’m thankful today that I get to go through time with this set of people that I love and with whom I live.  Each one of them brings such richness to my world and makes my life such an adventure.

“I knew I could catch the ball, but I knew it meant running into the wall to do it.”  I heard a major league baseball player say this on the news this evening during a report about how he had broken his nose and several bones in his face after running into the wall to catch a ball.  I don’t know who the player was because I was only partially paying attention to the news until I heard what he said and looked up.

Several bones in his face.  He broke several bones in his face running into a wall to catch a baseball.  As he said on the news, they are out there to win.  It sort of made me wonder if I would be willing to run into a wall and break several bones in my face for my job.  Facial damage for Jesus, anyone?  I mean, if I really thought that it might help someone understand the transformational power of a personal relationship with Jesus, would I be willing to do it?  If it meant being able to write that perfect sermon that totally hits its mark in that super powerful way, would I do it?  If breaking several bones in my face meant that parishioners would really committ themselves to being in small groups that could change their lives, would I run into that wall? 

I suppose that in lots of ways many rectors feel like they have been broken in the process of leading people to Jesus, even if they haven’t had any physical injuries to prove it.  I’ve certainly seen fearless rectors take very personal hits when challenging people to think differently and to go forward in faith. I suppose that many church leaders have thought to themselves, “I knew we could do it, but I knew it meant running into a wall to make it happen.” 

Maybe priests aren’t as different from baseball players as I first thought. 

As a general rule, I don’t respond to anonymous posts. I often respond directly to posters that begin a dialogue with me when they have attached their name, as I look for people to challenge me and my assumptions. I want the opportunity to talk with them and learn from them. The recent post by anonymous (see Red Shoes) has given me much to think about and I am appreciative for that. Unfortunately, anonymous has taken away my ability to interact directly with him/her by not taking public ownership of his/her comments. So, I’ll respond here for lack of any other option.

I think there is a misunderstanding about my frustrations with chapel. I really don’t care all that much about the rules or the shoes - and it certainly isn’t the requirement of adherence to the rules that I feel is ungracious. What frustrates me is the culture of fear and trepidation that exists in the chapel today. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard an acolyte talk about how fearful they were that they weren’t going to do things right. And they fear for good reason. I’ve seen a sacristan snap their fingers and point at an acolyte with a scowl like they were a dog or a small child. When I came to chapel early one evening to ask for a quick refresher about the order of events when setting the table, the sacristan I approached said (as rudely as possible), “Well, I’m not going to show it to you until the other acolyte gets here because I don’t want to have to do this more than once.” It’s not the rules or following the rules that frustrates me, it is the lack of grace that happens between the people in the chapel that I object to. Why can’t their be laughter about the silly things that go wrong in the chapel? Why can’t the acolytes be given really positive feedback about how well they did and made to feel good about what they are learning - even when, and maybe especially when, they’ve made some mistakes? Does this learning process have to happen in such a way that people leave feeling bad about it? Why can’t we lovingly, with a smile on our face because we are all in this together, say to someone (actually say it in person, not write it in email), “Hey, you know you’re not supposed to wear red shoes (or bright colored shirts or whatever) - what were you thinking? Please don’t do it again.” How come it can’t be fun and uplifting and be something that causes us to grow in relationship with one another, instead of being something that causes hurt feelings and divisions?

I certainly hope that no parishioner ever fears being part of the liturgical service in a parish. And, yes, I know this isn’t a parish. But, this is where we train parish priests. If the culture here is such that it is acceptable to be rude to our acolytes and to leave them feeling poorly about their imperfections (or even their deliberate acts of defiance), doesn’t that shape our impressions about how to behave as priests? Is this really how we want our parish priests interacting with their parishioners?

If you read my blog regularly, you know that I acknowledge that I have much to learn and that I am aware that I am certainly not perfect (see What I’ve Learned and The Perfect Wife). I’ve never claimed that I don’t have a “log in my own eye.” Just because we have a lot to learn doesn’t mean that we can’t be critical of the environment in which we are learning it. (Heaven knows people complain about teachers and administrative errors and the food situation all the time.) I have nothing against any of the sacristans. The ones that I know personally are wonderful people, many of whom are my friends. I am grateful that they are sacristans so that I don’t have to be. I am frustrated by a culture of fear and anxiety (that is acknowledged by many others than just me) and I will continue to talk about its effects on my experience here.

There was a preaching contest on campus yesterday and I entered. We were all given an envelope with a time at which to open it and find out what the chosen text was. After opening the envelope, I had 30 minutes to prepare a 5 minute sermon that I was to deliver without notes. We were allowed to use any resource we wanted, so I brought my envelope to the library and waited, dutifully, until 3:30 when I was allowed to open it. Finally, the clock struck 3:30 and I opened the envelope. My heart sank when I saw the passage. It was 1 Corinthians 13:1-13. Seriously, is there a harder passage in the New Testament to preach about?  Love, love, love.  If ever there has been a passage that has been overused and misunderstood, this is the one.  It is really a remarkable text, but it is so hard to get to the real meaning of it past our 21st century mindset.  And, even harder to get there with only 5 minutes.  

Oy. I read a couple of short commentaries and then just stared at it. The clock was ticking - it was already 3:45 and I didn’t have any brilliant ideas.
I finally decided that I would talk about different stages of love - from childish, to parental, to covenantal. It turned out ok. It wasn’t a terrible sermon, but it was pretty sketchy. My delivery was pretty good - considering I was only preaching to two people, the preaching professor and the New Testament professor.  It is hard to preach to such a small crowd; with so few people I don’t get much feedback (you know, nods, smiles, frowns, etc.).  I just get their smiling faces while they listen attentively. 

The results were announced today and I didn’t win the prize. I’m not terribly surprised as it wasn’t exactly a spectacular sermon. I’ve certainly felt more enthusiastic about other texts and topics before. I think I could have done well with this text if I’d had several days to really think about it, but that isn’t what the contest was. It was pretty fun to participate, though. It is a good exercise to see how well I can do with limited time and resources.

I was second runner up as the choice for who would be most likely to spearhead “vestment activism”. The student that gave the survey results announced my runner-up status by showing a picture of a big red cowboy boot with the caption “These boots were made for acolyting.” It was very funny.

Speaking of acolyting, I was an acolyte at our church in New Jersey for the first time this morning. Acolytes wear albs in their church as well, but they don’t have any shoe requirements (the rector usually wears orange sneakers with her vestments), so I wore red shoes this morning. It was nice to be on an altar with people that are gracious and loving - who are seeking to please God based on how we interact with one another, not based on perfect performance of the liturgical acrobatics.

If you haven’t read about Stephen Colbert’s hilarious performance at the White House Press Corps dinner this weekend you clearly don’t read the very liberal media sites that I read.  Note to those FOX News junkies out there, you probably won’t like this particular post, so you might stop reading now, just to be on the safe side.

My favorite online news site, Salon, ran an article this week about the performance.  My favorite quote from the monologue was when Colbert turned to Bush and said, “I stand by this man. I stand by this man because he stands for things. Not only for things, he stands on things. Things like aircraft carriers and rubble and recently flooded city squares. And that sends a strong message, that no matter what happens to America, she will always rebound — with the most powerfully staged photo ops in the world.”  Brilliant!  If that isn’t the quote of the year, I don’t know what is!

A new web site, Thank You Stephen Colbert, appeared this week to thank Stephen Colbert for his performance - you can even add your own personal note of thanks (38,000 so far).  And, if you haven’t yet had a chance to see his monologue, of course you’ll find the video clips there.  I love it when someone has the courage to stand up and speak the truth.

The Nelson family went on a roadtrip this weekend.  Ella’s godparents were in Virginia visiting the Phillips, so we drove down to spend some time with all of them.  We spent the entire weekend sitting around doing nothing while the kids played.  Nicholas and Ella and Jonathan ran around like crazy people - I don’t think they stopped moving for one second except to sleep!

Most fun of all was that we got to worship at Kevin’s new church.  It was great to hear him preach - so good to hear a sermon that challenges people to get out of their own comfort zone and think differently about the world because of what Jesus has done for them.  It was such a breath of fresh air.  Before the service, I was reading the pieces of paper that the ushers handed to me and I came across the list of clergy and staff.  Included in the list was the name of a person and the title “Special Assistant to the Rector.”  It looked like a title that you’d find in movie credits.  I asked Kevin about it and he said that she is a seminarian working there and they didn’t know what to call her so they started coming up with silly titles for her and settled on that.  Another of the contenders was “Parishioner General”.  I thought it was quite clever - it’s great to see a parish that has a sense of humor and allows itself to be silly sometimes.

 I’m feeling very refreshed and ready to go into the next two weeks of crunch time to get ready for finals.  I managed to get my two serious research papers written before we left, so I only have one reflective paper to write and 3 finals to study for.  It will be a busy 2 weeks, but it shouldn’t be too terrible.