Julie’s News from Maryland

If you want to see higher quality versions of the videos I posted below, go to VMworld.com.

Man, this time zone thing is really strange. I have managed to get mostly enough sleep here, so I’m not very tired. But, my body is very confused. Currently it is 5:00pm in France, so 11:00am in New York. I’ve been up and working since 10:00am here, so that is 4:00am in New York. I literally feel like I have pulled an all nighter. It is so strange. My body is clearly still functioning on New York time, while my brain is trying to function in France. It is a very odd conflict.

I made another film today:

This is the film that I made today in France:

I started applying for jobs this week.  Basically, it has consisted of me seeing the job posting on the bulletin board (or in my email from the chaplain), checking out the church web site, reading the job description, and then sending an email and a resume.  It has been a long time (I think more than 10 years) since I’ve really done a serious job search.  It is a lot of work.  And it is so unsettling.  The process involves so much of the unknown.  As I look at each web site I wonder, “What is this church really  like?  Are the people really as happy as they appear in the photos?”  Then I read the job descriptions and I think, “Can I really do that?  What would it be like to actually do this work from day to day?”  And, of course, I wonder about the location, “Can we live there?  Is it a town that will be safe and provide opportunities for my family to grow and thrive?  How close is it to people that we already know and care about - will we feel like we are in the wilderness alone?” 

I’ve sent four resumes so far. I had thought that applying for jobs might ease the anxiety we are feeling about what will happen to us when we graduate, but it has really only added more anxiety to the pile.  Intellectually, I know that it will all work out and we will find a job and go somewhere and it will be ok.  (Or it won’t and we’ll go somewhere else.)  But, the great unknown is certainly not an easy thing to stare down.

I was thinking about why I have so much more anxiety about this than I’ve had in previous job searches.  I think I’ve identified a few major differences that are important:

• Finding the right fit is so important.  I’ve always worked in really large corporations and in a large company, if a co-worker or a boss turns out to be difficult or the job turns out not to be a good fit, it is relatively easy to just switch jobs within the same company and work for a new group of people.   This is not the case when one works in a church.  If something is not right about the job or there is a personality clash within the staff, there is no where else to go in the parish.  Most parishes are small places with only a few employees - if something is problematic, it requires a great deal more work to solve the problem.  And, if it can’t be solved, it means starting over with a job search and a potential move.
• I have a family now.  The last time I changed jobs I didn’t have a family.  It was just me and Rick.  While we wanted to start a family soon, I didn’t feel the weight of the responsibility I have now.
• I had the luxury of time.  When I was searching for a new job in 1997 I already had a job.  I was working full-time, but was ready for new challenges and opportunities that I couldn’t find within my current organization.  So, I started looking, taking my time to find the right company and the right job.  Now, I know there is a deadline.  I can’t dawdle or waste time.
• The Episcopal Church is not Silicon Valley in the 90s.  Heck, Silicon Valley now is not Silicon Valley in the 90s.  Back then, if you had a degree in anything that was even remotely computer related you could get a job in Silicon Valley.  The economy was booming and companies couldn’t hire quickly enough.  There were jobs everywhere and all you had to do was show up.  The world, and especially the church, aren’t exactly like that.  Jobs exist, but they don’t quite flow like milk and honey. 
• I didn’t have to move.  I was already living in  Silicon Valley when I was looking for a job there, so I knew that I wasn’t going to have to coordinate a move in conjunction with the new job.  I knew that I liked living there and wanted to stay there indefinitely.  Finding a job in a new city is a strange process for me.  I sort of feel like I am interviewing the job as well as the town, trying to discern if it is a geographic location that will be right for our family from so many different angles: can we buy a house there, are the schools acceptable, is it close to an airport so that we can travel, where are our closest friends/relatives in relationship to that town.  Then, of course, I have to add to that the logistics of actually moving my family - packing, traveling, etc. 

I know that my experience is not new or unique.  Every graduating seminary student (or almost every one) across the country is feeling anxiety around similar sorts of things right now.  And, for years past the same has been true for those graduating students.  And, we all get out there and do the best we can - some work out well, some don’t, and some are in the middle.  This is the adventure of life, I suppose.

You know how sometimes you just have a nasty, awful, terrible, horrible, rotten day? You know how sometimes someone you love does something really awful that hurts you really deeply? And you know how that happens on the heels of other bad news that is already making you feel bad? Well, I had one of those days today. And I feel like crap. I’ve spent all day feeling sorry for myself and crying and just generaly feeling bad about myself.

But, as I was driving home from our little mini-vacation today, I realized that it hadn’t rained or snowed on us once all day. The forecast had said there was a 40% chance of freezing rain and snow showers making travel difficult. We left early hoping to get as much distance behind us as we could before the weather got bad. But the weather never got bad. Still hasn’t. Not one drop of rain or snow or anything.

That is one of Life’s Little Victories. There is a comic, Keith Knight, who contributes to Salon and sometimes he runs a strip of little moments he calls Life’s Little Victories. I decided in the car that I’d had one of those today. It doesn’t nearly make up for all the pain that I’m feeling, but it certainly reminds me that there is always something for which I can be grateful. I had been really worried about driving in the snow and dealing with ice on the road, but it never happened and we got home safely and with little effort.  A little victory.

Recently, out of the blue, one Saturday afternoon, I received the following email from a close and dear friend here at seminary:

Julie -
I was just over in the Chapel fixing a nail pop in one of the pews. I could have done a work order, but by the time I found one, filled it out explaining exactly where in the Chapel, and walked the work order over to the “front” desk, I could just go fix it myself.

Anyway, as I was pounding the nail back in, I was thinking that its always the nail that sticks up that gets pounded down all the time. Then I thought of you, and how you often seem to be that nail. Metaphorically, of course. What a blessing to all of us that you just keep popping back up again and again. Please don’t ever stop … you are what this world needs!

Wishing you blessings always.

As I finished reading the note I thought to myself, “Ouch.  My head hurts.”  My friend has captured so concisely a lot of my experience here.  I do often feel like I get my head smacked - sometimes when I expect it and sometimes when I don’t.  I know that I push people, I know that I act out, and I know that sometimes I just simply say stupid stuff. 

This past weekend my class went away on retreat.  During the course of a structured conversation as a class, our chaplain asked us if we had come to seminary with a particular need - and did we know about that need in advance or was it revealed to us after some time here.  As I thought about it, I thought about the privileged position I had in my former job and in my former parish.  In both cases, I had been a long time member, I had done many interesting and wonderful things with great people, and I was well respected by my peers and superiors.  People solicited advice from me and my ideas and opions had merit and were very credible.  At the same time, in retrospect, I’ve realized that many people put up with some seriously bad behavior from me, letting my lack of tact, diplomacy, and sometimes even lack of respect for others just slide. 

When I first got here, I couldn’t understand why I was getting smacked so hard and so often.  Slowly, over time, it was revealed to me: I didn’t have any credibility in this group of people.  They had not worked with me or spent time with me; this group had no relationship with me that would allow them to let my difficult and challenging behavior slide.  Instead, they worked hard to give me feedback so that I could learn.  Sometimes they gave me feedback in really positive and healthy ways - talking to me directly or sending me an email.  Sometimes they did it in really unhealthy ways - gossiping about me or being snarky and rude.  But, slowly I learned.  Slowly I built relationships.  Slowly I found the language and developed the ability to be more humble and respectful, but yet still be authentic to myself and what I think is true.  I make room for other’s ideas and positions and try to learn from them.  I still get smacked for things that I say and do, but now it often has less to do with my bad behavior or my poor delivery of my idea, and often more to do with the other person’s discomfort with being challenged.

What I needed in seminary was feedback about my bad behavior - I needed people to tell me when I was hurting them, when my opinionated rants had stepped over their thoughtful reflections about something, when my desire to push the envelope was harming the community.  I needed people that would give me that feedback and keep loving me.  This group of people has stuck with me and hung in there even when it was hard for all of us.  I’m incredibly grateful for their friendship and loyalty.  I know that I am a better person and will be a better priest for having done this work with them.

This afternoon, after school, I mentioned on my way to a meeting that the kids should start working on signing their valentine’s cards. Usually, this activity involves much complaining and moaning and screaming and general anxiety from Nicholas. All we ask him to do is write his own name in the “From” section, leaving the “To” blank so that he can just hand them out to everyone generically. I expected that the process would be rather painful which is why we try to start early, so that we have a couple of days to finish all of the cards, since he can never do them all in one sitting. Upon my return from the meeting, I learned that not only had he taken the initiative to write his own name, he retrieved the list of names of his classmates from his bookbag and wrote all of their names as well. And, he chose particular valentine’s cards for particular kids. All without any whining or complaining.

Dinner was perfectly delightful. After a short tantrum from Ella, everyone was chatty and delightful - offering up information about school and activities of the day. Of late we have had dinners full of rudeness and inappropriate behavior, sending kids to the hallway for time outs only to have more tantruns and craziness. But not tonight. Tonight we all sat quiently and talked like civilized people while we at our meal. Then we cleaned up and played a charming and fun game of Clue. Ella and I were on a team playing against Nicholas. I accidently won two times and Nicholas never batted an eye. No tantrum. No throwing the game across the room. No hysterics that derailed the whole rest of the evening. He was happy about having played and we all worked together to clean up the game pieces.

I suggested, carefully and a bit reluctantly for fear that my good luck would run out, that maybe Nicholas could do some homework. He said, “Sure” and proceeded to retrieve his homework packet from his backpack. With absolutely no screaming, crying, hysterics, or throwing of anything, he sat at the table quietly and finished the obligatory two pages of homework. Meanwhile, Ella was also at the table drawing. They didn’t argue or complain about each other or pester each other in the least. I managed to wash all the dishes while they were working. Nicholas finished his work and with one gentle reminder from me, put his homework and folder back in his backpack.

As I was washing the dishes I wondered to myself, “Wow. Is this what it is like in other people’s houses?” Do other people go through entire afternoons without any hysterics? Do other families write Valentine’s cards with the assurance that no one will scream and throw things? Do other families enjoy pleasant meals together, talking about the day? Can other families play a game with the expectation that everyone one will have fun, no matter who wins? Is homework a quiet and easy activity for other kids - one that is free from anxiety and tantrums?

While I suspect that every family has their fair share of tantrums and hysterics, I suspect that it isn’t the expectation that regular every day activities will always result in a tantrum. But, I don’t know. That is just the way I happen to live. If I’m lucky enough to get through one of these activities in a week without an anxiety attack, I feel like we have done well as a family. To have so many of these activities go smoothly in one day is like a miracle. I can’t imagine getting to live in such calm and peace.

So, I went on a church field trip today. As part of my work for Big Manhattan Church, I go around visiting various mega churches to study their methodolgy and to get a sense of what they are doing.  The hope is that we’ll be able to use some of their good ideas.  Today I went to a church waaaay out in Brooklyn - almost the last stop on the subway.  Because of subway construction it was particularly difficult to get there today - requiring a bus and two trains and a pretty decent walk (in the freezing wind) at the other end.  But, I knew it was going to be that way so I planned accordingly and got there on time for the service.

The service was what I expected - in a large theater, a choir filling the stage, a big band, lots of clapping and dancing and extemporaneous prayer.  The congregation and the worship leaders were very enthusiastic and it was a very emotional and spirit filled, as I’ve come to expect from these services.  Today, however, had a bit of a twist that I couldn’t have anticipated.  The sermon today was delivered by a guest preacher.  The senior pastor introduced him as someone who had experienced incredible tragedy but still remained faithful.  I knew then that we were going to get a tragedy story, but I never could have imagined how bad it was.  Basically, he gave us a quick run down of his life: youngest of 8 kids, musician, got a degree in engineering, married the love of his life, through some difficulty (miscarriages, etc), they had 4 children (one with down syndrome and the last one adopted from China).  Then, he showed a video clip that included news footage and an interview of him describing what happened: driving home in a rain storm they got caught in a flash flood that threw their van off of the freeway and ejected 3 of the 6 of them from the car.  He survived.  Everyone else in his family died.  Over the next 3 days, they found the bodies of all four of his small children and his wife.  Oy.  I can’t even imagine how horrible that would be.  Naturally, we saw lots of family pictures and videos, and heard some of the songs that he wrote about all of them and about the tragedy.  He now tells his story with his mission being two fold: to teach people to “Know God and have No Regrets” and to raise money for the orphanages that he is starting, one on each of 5 continents each being named for one of the family members that died.

He said that his goal is to bring a message of hope to people, that tragedy took his family but it couldn’t take his faith.  He talked of his incredible belief that God blesses him and he talked about how he knew he could be a victim or a victor and was choosing to be a victor.  He was on the slippery slope of “bad things happen to us so we can become better people” theology.  He never actually went there, but he was close enough for it to be an implied message.  I think that his story could have been really powerful, if he had not been so cheerful through the whole thing.  He admitted that he still cries and he still grieves, but he just seemed entirely too chipper about all of it.  I’m sure he’s not - I don’t doubt for a moment that he has experienced and still experiences real pain.  And, I didn’t need him to be a total emotional wreck, but there was something about his cheerfulness that didn’t seem all that genuine.  And, of course, his new wife and their small baby were in the crowd to show us all how God brings good to us even when we’ve experienced tragedy.  That seemed a little too “happy ending” for me.  Not that I think the man should continue to suffer and be miserable his whole life, but there was a hollywood happy ending quality to it that it didn’t need to have.

And, the ultimate result of it for me was that I ended up feeling like I was an emotional hostage for 2 hours.  I expect to experience emotion at a worship service, it is not uncommon to hear a moving story about someone’s life, but this was more than I wanted.  I wanted to go to a worship service and hear the gospel preached.  I didn’t want someone to drag me through the emotional ringer without giving me any advance warning that it was going to happen.  This sort of story seems to me to be the kind of thing that would be approprite to invite people to hear at a forum after the service or at a dinner during the week.  Give people some notice that this person is going to talk about terrible tragedy and allow them to decide whether they are in an emotional place that would allow them to hear and experience the story.  But to just houst it on unsuspecting people that have come to worship in Sunday morning, that seems a little cruel.  I don’t know, maybe it is just me.  Maybe people needed to hear that story that never would have gone out of their way to attend a separate event to hear it.  But still, I was not prepared for it and left the church feeling like I had been emotionally assaulted.

I got my GOE scores earlier this week. I’m sorry that I didn’t get around to posting them sooner. It’s been a hectic week and I wanted to write about them when I’d have some time to say something thoughtful about them. Plus, it took me a few days to digest them and think about them. The grading system changed this year; previously essays were graded on a scale from 1-5 (5 being the highest). The new grading system is as follows:

4 = excellent
3 = satisfactory
2 = problematic
1 = unsatisfactory

If you want to read the question, click on the exam title and it will take you back to my original post about that exam. The scores are:

Holy Scripture: 4
Ethics and Moral Theology: 1
Christian Theology: 2
Contemporary Society: 4
Church History: 3
Theory and Practice of Ministry: 3
Liturgy and Church Music: 3

Overall, I’m quite please with my grades. I’m particularly pleased about the Scripture grade - that was my favorite question and my favorite answer. I’m a little disappointed about the Christian Theology grade. The comments from the readers indicated that my references to scripture and the mission of the church were appropriate, but that they didn’t feel like my argument was sufficiently developed. I’m not sure that I agree, though it might be possible that I assumed that my theology was so logical that what I was saying was obvious and I really didn’t develop the argument enough. Tough to say really.

I can’t say that I’m all that surprised about the Ethics grade. The question was incredibly difficult and I did the best I could, but truthfully, I had no idea what I was doing. I don’t know anything about the Christian Ethical tradition as it relates to intrinsically evil acts. And, I had no resources that helped me. I used a few ethics dictionaries/encyclopedias, but they didn’t give me much. Such is life.

One comment of note: For the Theory and Practice of Ministry question we were asked to develop a theological response to a couple that had lost a child in the Virginia Tech massacre. The comments from the reader were all very encouraging and positive, and then at the end stated, “…but does not mention the importance for the pastor of listening to the couple.” Are you kidding me?! Isn’t that the fucking OBVIOUS answer?! Criminy. I’m pretty certain that is the reason that I got a 3 for that answer instead of a 4. The list of required elements in the essay (doesn’t that sound like judging for ice skating?) must have included the inclusion of a statement about the importance of listening to the couple. Honestly. I mean, I know that it is important, but to have to remember to state that when writing the second to the last of 7 essays in 4 days. Geez.

So there ya go. The GOE process is now over. I can’t tell you how nice it is to have that behind me. I have no idea what my diocese will do with my scores. A couple of folks have indicated that the designated person will read the two lower scored essays and let me know if they agree with the graders assessment or not. If not, they might have me do something to assure them that I have acquired some amount of knowledge in that particular area during my time here at seminary. I’m not all that worried about it, I’ll just wait and see.

Today is Ash Wednesday. I had a slightly more observant day today than I had last year. Today, I spent the better part of the day at Big Manhattan Church where I stood in the church in distributed ashes. This seems to be a rather common practice in most of the big, prominent churches in the city. Clergy and laity stand at the front of the church and people stream in all day to receive ashes. The practice feels unusual to me, I suppose since I’ve always received ashes as part of a service. To just receive ashes independent of a worship service feels odd to me, but that is what is done and I was asked to participate today, so I did.

It was really interesting to watch people as they came into the church. Some came in and came directly to the front to receive ashes and then went to sit and pray or meditate. Others stopped in a pew to pray first and then came forward for ashes. Others came forward, received their ashes and then walked right back out of the church, almost in one sweeping motion. The emotions of people and how they approached varied so wildly. Some almost seemed embarrased to come forward and receive ashes, some seemed emotional and moved by the experience, others were very pleasant and smiled, even saying ‘hello’ to me. The experience was different for each person that came forward. Old, young, rich, poor, and people of every ethnicity approached in their own way.

The church leaves an offering plate on a small table near the back of the church, but in the middle of the aisle. Interestingly, most people stopped and put something in the plate. For me it added a bit of a drive through quality to the event that made me slightly uncomfortable.

Something that was particularly striking to me was how many people said, “thank you” to me. After giving them ashes, some said, “Amen”, one woman said, “thanks be to God” and many said, “thank you.” I understood them to be thanking me for my hospitality, for receiving them, for just being there to give them ashes. And it makes perfect sense. But, inside my head, it seemed slightly odd to hear people thank me for reminding of them of their mortality. The words I said were, “Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.” All day, one person after another, I reminded people that they are dust and that is that. It seemed like it was an important thing to say to people and I hope that I was able to be sincere and offer people a genuine moment of grace as I did so.