i discovered something on friday: the national mall is much like the upper quad at UNC.
okay, okay, you might be fair to call me a UNC snob if i was insinuating that silent sam or even the old well are monuments of comparable stature to those that line the mall. and franklin street, i suppose, is no pennsylvania avenue.
but i get that same feeling on the mall, crossing precisely between the capitol and the washington monument, watching families taking pictures and friends playing frisbee--the same feeling i always got when walking from the old well down to franklin. the upper quad is the location of my nostalgia for UNC--nostalgia that i experienced even while i was still a student there. it was my "i love carolina" quad. i feel that love more intensely there: under the poplars, just past the azaleas, atop the worn brick walkways. the mall, in a similar way, has helped awaken my fondness for this city.
(a fondness that persists despite the unrelenting heat, the security guards that condemn favorite water bottles to the trash can, and the clenching jaws that are the doors of metro cars, which prey on mis-minded limbs.)
and here i am, only two weeks to go. and even though it's gone by really fast, i'm ready to head back to atlanta. i miss my life there. and i'm anxious to move into my new place, get settled in, tackle august term, assume my new leadership roles.
not to mention the task of reorienting my life and experience at candler around the things i've seen, learned, and done this summer.
the time is upon me in my life (young, transitional, largely unattached) to start making choices and decisions that will directly influence how i live. i am ready to be intentional about how i live so that my lifestyle and worldview will accurately reflect my values, beliefs, concerns, and opinions: what i know now about domestic and world hunger, what i know about advocacy, what i know about my body and what it means to me to be healthy and active. what i've learned from the people i've met. how am i going to choose to live? how am i going to frame my understanding of ministry? what am i going to lift up to my classmates at Emory?
let me ground this in a bit more specificity--one thing i've been thinking about is food (working at Bread, this should hardly come as a surprise). i think i'd like to commit to buying and consuming a more sustainable food supply: buying local, going to the farmer's market, eating vegetables out of the garden. along with that comes practices of composting, eating community meals, changing my habits of eating out, cutting back on caffeine and drinking more water. it's absolutely amazing to ponder the implications of such a choice: healthier self, stronger community, care for the earth--and the very worship of God that is inherent in all these things. the good news is, i think i have the community in place around me that will support me and journey with me, should i choose to start making these transitions and commitments.
but as i am inspired and dream big about being so intentional in my own life (and by association, i strongly believe, my ministry), i am reminded about my tendency towards idealism. i expressed my frustrations to carter (my supervisor at Bread) in a wonderful conversation we shared on friday morning at work. not so much around the issue of food habits, but around a discussion of church budgeting of all things. i spent all day thursday sitting in on a consultation for the 2011 version of the Hunger Report, Bread for the World Institute's yearly publication. there was a lot of talk about country-led development in foreign aid and what that means for the relationship between donor and recipient countries. carter, in her brilliance, translated this for me into an understanding of the relationship between churches and the organizations/ministries that receive their support. working at Bread, carter is often on the receiving end of such a relationship, but has had many years on the church donor side and spoke to me as a future church leader. how can churches best manage the relationships with organizations they support? how can they be good stewards of their funding and assure that good work is actually being accomplished through the ministry of the organizations receiving money? i was really moved by her insistence on intentionality...but recognized that familiar itch of "i can do this better that i've seen it done in churches." i confessed to her that lately i've started to worry that all of these things i want to be really intentional about and good at in my ministry (preaching biblically being the primary example) may fall to the wayside as i hit the reality of ministry on the ground. once it gets out of these planning and preparing and interning stages--will i be able to stay true to the commitments i'm making to myself now? will the ideals i want to hold up--of good preaching, of community, of responsible giving, and so on---withstand the demands of full-time ministry? or will i begin to let things slide as my plate fills with responsibility?
carter gave me such good advice, i was almost at the point of tears over her genuine concern and the mentoring relationship we have developed. you've got to dream big, she said. but don't wait until some day when you're in a church--these are the decisions that you have to make now. what's more, you're already making them! intentionality can't be put off for tomorrow. and how true that my life is my ministry--i'm doing ministry at bread, at candler, and more broadly in my relationships and in the way that i live---and life doesn't start tomorrow, it is happening right now. making these important choices--whether it's about intentionality and commitment in running a church or in food habits---can and should start now. idealism is great, but it has to be grounded. dream big, then act.
i'm ready to act. i want to live in a way that matters.
my feelings may best be summed up by the words on a plaque that i bought when shopping in downtown alexandria with the two mrs. teaters (i intend to hang this in a prominent position in the new apartment):
"she packed up her potential and all she had learned, grabbed a cute pair of shoes and headed out to change a few things'"
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
all we can do is keep breathing
i started the day with an incredibly productive attitude and looked forward to getting a lot done in the window of time after lunch (that is, right now). that energy has been zapped. i need to get out a few thoughts and reflections before i turn myself back to my work.
today at lunch a group of us watched the second half of a movie called A Crude Awakening. it is a documentary made in 2006 about our world's consumption of oil and the impending "peak" of the earth's supply of oil. bread has a "green team" that promotes awareness and discussion of environmental issues such as this.
the first half, which we watched last friday, was informative and moderately concerning. it was good food for thought and i think we all left in a contemplative spirit. the second half, however, was downright apocalyptic. when the credits began to roll, we all could only stare at one another in morbid shock. here's the movie's message in a nutshell: we've over-exploited our oil resources and we're going to run out--in our lifetime. we've built our society upon the assumption that the oil would never run out and the infrastructure just isn't there to realistically deal with such a crisis. anything we might do to help---buying hybrid cars, carpooling, conserving, reducing our carbon footprints---is too little too late.
it certainly comes as no surprise that we've been exploitative in our use of oil. but the movie's doomsday predictions were harsh and hopeless. the interviewees gave no real viable energy solutions--perhaps solar, but the development isn't currently in place and the cost is high. so do we revert to simpler lifestyles? do we fight wars over oil until we kill almost everyone off? do we wait and see what happens and then solve it or do we beg our politicians and leaders to wake up and start dealing with it now?
i'm torn between calling the film propaganda and over-exaggerated scare tactics...or actually believing it. i want to believe so i can do something about it in my own life, but that was the most depressing part of the movie--there's nothing we really can do, according to these folks. it's like watching an implosion in slow motion--and the fuse has already been lit.
they really alarmed me when they started talking about population. the exponential growth we've seen in the past couple centuries is congruent with the rise of oil. there are well over 6 billion people on this planet--this is where things really got apocalyptic--and the interviewees seemed to suggest that the earth can only viably sustain about 1.5 billion on the oil resources that remain (or that will remain once we "peak" in the next 10-20 years). okay, so what happens to all those billions of people? how is that a solution?
will people read about us in history books 1000 years from now (if the world hasn't exploded or dried up or jesus hasn't come back yet) as the oil age (comparable to the stone age, iron age, etc) that ended in some catastrophic way, resulting in a Book of Eli-esque world that had to be rebuilt from the ground up--this time without societal dependence on oil? what are we working ourselves up to here?
sorry for the heavy thoughts--i needed to get them out of my brain quickly so i can try and make myself useful on this friday afternoon. lots of other, less depressing and non-cataclysmic things have been going on--sorry, too, for being remiss on posting. hopefully i can find time to play catch up sometime this weekend.
until then, as ingrid michaelson sings, all we can do is keep breathing.
today at lunch a group of us watched the second half of a movie called A Crude Awakening. it is a documentary made in 2006 about our world's consumption of oil and the impending "peak" of the earth's supply of oil. bread has a "green team" that promotes awareness and discussion of environmental issues such as this.
the first half, which we watched last friday, was informative and moderately concerning. it was good food for thought and i think we all left in a contemplative spirit. the second half, however, was downright apocalyptic. when the credits began to roll, we all could only stare at one another in morbid shock. here's the movie's message in a nutshell: we've over-exploited our oil resources and we're going to run out--in our lifetime. we've built our society upon the assumption that the oil would never run out and the infrastructure just isn't there to realistically deal with such a crisis. anything we might do to help---buying hybrid cars, carpooling, conserving, reducing our carbon footprints---is too little too late.
it certainly comes as no surprise that we've been exploitative in our use of oil. but the movie's doomsday predictions were harsh and hopeless. the interviewees gave no real viable energy solutions--perhaps solar, but the development isn't currently in place and the cost is high. so do we revert to simpler lifestyles? do we fight wars over oil until we kill almost everyone off? do we wait and see what happens and then solve it or do we beg our politicians and leaders to wake up and start dealing with it now?
i'm torn between calling the film propaganda and over-exaggerated scare tactics...or actually believing it. i want to believe so i can do something about it in my own life, but that was the most depressing part of the movie--there's nothing we really can do, according to these folks. it's like watching an implosion in slow motion--and the fuse has already been lit.
they really alarmed me when they started talking about population. the exponential growth we've seen in the past couple centuries is congruent with the rise of oil. there are well over 6 billion people on this planet--this is where things really got apocalyptic--and the interviewees seemed to suggest that the earth can only viably sustain about 1.5 billion on the oil resources that remain (or that will remain once we "peak" in the next 10-20 years). okay, so what happens to all those billions of people? how is that a solution?
will people read about us in history books 1000 years from now (if the world hasn't exploded or dried up or jesus hasn't come back yet) as the oil age (comparable to the stone age, iron age, etc) that ended in some catastrophic way, resulting in a Book of Eli-esque world that had to be rebuilt from the ground up--this time without societal dependence on oil? what are we working ourselves up to here?
sorry for the heavy thoughts--i needed to get them out of my brain quickly so i can try and make myself useful on this friday afternoon. lots of other, less depressing and non-cataclysmic things have been going on--sorry, too, for being remiss on posting. hopefully i can find time to play catch up sometime this weekend.
until then, as ingrid michaelson sings, all we can do is keep breathing.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
why i love metro (today)
1) dozens of faces stretching upwards to find a draft from the air conditioning like flowers to the sun
2) sitting down hard on the handrail of a seat. it's a pain like no other.
3) unintentional (?) molestation before 9am
4) excellent upper arm conditioning when standing and holding onto a hand rail
5) catching the gaze of a stranger and then awkwardly trying to avoid looking at them for the rest of the ride. it's impossible not to meet eyes again.
6) when sitting in a backwards facing seat, i can close my eyes and feel like i'm on the backwards-facing car on thunder road at carowinds (especially if the conductor is new at steering the thing)
7) the hand sanitizing industry should love me. i shudder to think about what all has touched the various poles, rails, and handles.
and despite all this, i do have one complaint from the day: please, sir-sitting-behind-me, could you refrain from trimming your fingernails on public transportation? i'd hate to go home and comb your clippings out of my hair, thanks. (i guess, though, it's really no different from the droves of mexican women who use spoons to curl their eyelashes on the train. me, i save my hygiene and cosmetology for home.)
and on a completely unrelated note, why i love my candidacy mentor:
"Whitney, not only do you have a low interest in caring for others, as your interest inventory demonstrated, your psychological assessment confirms you also have a flagrant disregard for the plight of human suffering. Congratulations.”
he envisions great things for me. (and that's as yet a joke about my psych eval--i'm not taking it until next week.)
2) sitting down hard on the handrail of a seat. it's a pain like no other.
3) unintentional (?) molestation before 9am
4) excellent upper arm conditioning when standing and holding onto a hand rail
5) catching the gaze of a stranger and then awkwardly trying to avoid looking at them for the rest of the ride. it's impossible not to meet eyes again.
6) when sitting in a backwards facing seat, i can close my eyes and feel like i'm on the backwards-facing car on thunder road at carowinds (especially if the conductor is new at steering the thing)
7) the hand sanitizing industry should love me. i shudder to think about what all has touched the various poles, rails, and handles.
and despite all this, i do have one complaint from the day: please, sir-sitting-behind-me, could you refrain from trimming your fingernails on public transportation? i'd hate to go home and comb your clippings out of my hair, thanks. (i guess, though, it's really no different from the droves of mexican women who use spoons to curl their eyelashes on the train. me, i save my hygiene and cosmetology for home.)
and on a completely unrelated note, why i love my candidacy mentor:
"Whitney, not only do you have a low interest in caring for others, as your interest inventory demonstrated, your psychological assessment confirms you also have a flagrant disregard for the plight of human suffering. Congratulations.”
he envisions great things for me. (and that's as yet a joke about my psych eval--i'm not taking it until next week.)
Monday, July 5, 2010
like a child
there's something equalizing about fireworks. about sitting on the ground with a bunch of friends and strangers, awed and wide-eyed like children. the sensory-overload of the colors and the noise and the smoke, the people crammed together, the sweat from the day still sticky on your skin, but a cooling breeze starting to blow through. i don't know any other response than to sit in wonder at the display. it's one of the few things human-made that might begin to come close to inspiring a nature-like reverence. i love fireworks. although i think i was mostly scared of them as a child...so knowing now that the big booms are harmless helps me enjoy them like a non disaster-paranoid child might.
the display in downtown d.c. was wonderful. we sat on the steps of the lincoln memorial and watched the show in the sky above the washington monument, the lights and colors mirrored below in the reflecting pool.
almost as awesome as the fireworks were the sheer number of people there. of course, i had been warned of this by all the d.c. locals, whose advice was to avoid downtown like the plague on the fourth. but really, getting there and finding a spot was rather uneventful. it was packed, though. every inch of space on the steps in front of lincoln was covered with bodies, and we could see across to the WWII monument, where the same was the case, and presumably it was so all the way down the mall to the capitol building.
the real chaos ensued after the show was over and everyone hurried outwards. i think i actually got lucky to get on the metro only a minute after i arrived on the platform. but the line to get down the escalators and into the station was outrageous, and the car was packed full all the way back to my stop at franconia-springfield, the very end of the line. overall though, very manageable mayhem and worth it, i think.
not only was last night a reversion to child-like wonder during the fireworks display, but i also revisited my youth when i went to the neighborhood pool and swam laps earlier in the day. i just got a pass for the summer to enjoy the pool and gym where i'm living, and this was the first day i went swimming. there's lots of time to think when you're swimming in circles, and i couldn't help but think back to my days on the swim team. of the giant pixie sticks we ate at meets between our events; of the three feet of water we dove into, off of blocks. and my favorite swim team memory: the time one of my contacts fell out as i put on my goggles right before my race. my friend's mother was standing next to me in the lane as a timer. "ms. street, ms. street! can you hold this for me? my contact just popped out." i gave her my lens, swam my race down and back. when i was back at the wall where she stood, she leaned down to me in the water and said (in her british accent, no less), "here, whitney, i didn't know what else to do to keep it from drying out, so i kept it in my mouth for you!"
another unavoidable childhood memory of being at the pool was of the utter devastation of hearing the lifegaurd's whistle blow every hour announcing adult swim. it still feels weird to be able to stay in for it, like having graduated into some special club that you almost can't enjoy knowing the anguish those 10 minutes cause for all the kids.
and today itself feels like childhood, enjoying a day off school: no work today in honor of independence day. certainly something worth celebrating.
the display in downtown d.c. was wonderful. we sat on the steps of the lincoln memorial and watched the show in the sky above the washington monument, the lights and colors mirrored below in the reflecting pool.
almost as awesome as the fireworks were the sheer number of people there. of course, i had been warned of this by all the d.c. locals, whose advice was to avoid downtown like the plague on the fourth. but really, getting there and finding a spot was rather uneventful. it was packed, though. every inch of space on the steps in front of lincoln was covered with bodies, and we could see across to the WWII monument, where the same was the case, and presumably it was so all the way down the mall to the capitol building.
the real chaos ensued after the show was over and everyone hurried outwards. i think i actually got lucky to get on the metro only a minute after i arrived on the platform. but the line to get down the escalators and into the station was outrageous, and the car was packed full all the way back to my stop at franconia-springfield, the very end of the line. overall though, very manageable mayhem and worth it, i think.
not only was last night a reversion to child-like wonder during the fireworks display, but i also revisited my youth when i went to the neighborhood pool and swam laps earlier in the day. i just got a pass for the summer to enjoy the pool and gym where i'm living, and this was the first day i went swimming. there's lots of time to think when you're swimming in circles, and i couldn't help but think back to my days on the swim team. of the giant pixie sticks we ate at meets between our events; of the three feet of water we dove into, off of blocks. and my favorite swim team memory: the time one of my contacts fell out as i put on my goggles right before my race. my friend's mother was standing next to me in the lane as a timer. "ms. street, ms. street! can you hold this for me? my contact just popped out." i gave her my lens, swam my race down and back. when i was back at the wall where she stood, she leaned down to me in the water and said (in her british accent, no less), "here, whitney, i didn't know what else to do to keep it from drying out, so i kept it in my mouth for you!"
another unavoidable childhood memory of being at the pool was of the utter devastation of hearing the lifegaurd's whistle blow every hour announcing adult swim. it still feels weird to be able to stay in for it, like having graduated into some special club that you almost can't enjoy knowing the anguish those 10 minutes cause for all the kids.
and today itself feels like childhood, enjoying a day off school: no work today in honor of independence day. certainly something worth celebrating.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
thoughts from a Sunday morning
this morning i went to the third church i've visited in my three weeks here: one CMA, one Baptist, and today, back home to the Methodists. i've been frustrated with myself a few times over the last year or so--as someone preparing for ministry, it is easy to be critical of church services when your eyes and ears are so finely attuned to what is (or isn't) going on. but this morning, i experienced another aspect of my sharpened eye. visiting churches is a chance to see how things really can be done. for example, the church service this morning actually included ALL of the lectionary readings for the day. yep, Old Testament and all. we even sang the psalter. i don't think i've ever done that in a Methodist church--heck, i didn't even know they were printed in the back of our hymnals.
i was also encouraged to see an African American woman as the pastor of this church. now i know it's 2010, but that's still really just something for me to behold and celebrate, especially in a congregation full of mostly older white folks. and the pastor, she came around to everyone in the pews to shake hands and say hello. she caught sight of me and asked if i was visiting. she made sure to get my name ("like Whitney Houston, right?") and my business in the city straight, and then during the announcements, she introduced me as a first-time visitor. everyone clapped and they brought me a goodie bag with a coffee mug inside.
also, today was youth sunday. as i read on their website beforehand, every fourth sunday is youth-led, not just one service a year. i am encouraged by that--what a way to raise up leaders and help youth feel comfortable and confident in participating. and it was in a way that wasn't overwhelming--sometimes once-a-year youth sunday can be frustrating because the youth minister pulls out all the stops and the kids are doing everything and that's great, it really really is...but it is such a radical change that people are left with the heads wheeling and can only comment, "don't the kids just have great energy?" and pat them on their little heads. but today, there were two youth as the liturgists and one who led the children's time. it was integrated into what i imagine is a typical service--not a something separate but youth being part of what is already going on.
so anyhow, it's nice to be able to take some notes on how to consider doing things in my own ministry one day. at best, i'll only be able to attend that church 4 more times. but i appreciate the chance to step outside of what has become ordinary to me and behave as a student, not a critic, in addition to a worshiper.
i was also encouraged to see an African American woman as the pastor of this church. now i know it's 2010, but that's still really just something for me to behold and celebrate, especially in a congregation full of mostly older white folks. and the pastor, she came around to everyone in the pews to shake hands and say hello. she caught sight of me and asked if i was visiting. she made sure to get my name ("like Whitney Houston, right?") and my business in the city straight, and then during the announcements, she introduced me as a first-time visitor. everyone clapped and they brought me a goodie bag with a coffee mug inside.
also, today was youth sunday. as i read on their website beforehand, every fourth sunday is youth-led, not just one service a year. i am encouraged by that--what a way to raise up leaders and help youth feel comfortable and confident in participating. and it was in a way that wasn't overwhelming--sometimes once-a-year youth sunday can be frustrating because the youth minister pulls out all the stops and the kids are doing everything and that's great, it really really is...but it is such a radical change that people are left with the heads wheeling and can only comment, "don't the kids just have great energy?" and pat them on their little heads. but today, there were two youth as the liturgists and one who led the children's time. it was integrated into what i imagine is a typical service--not a something separate but youth being part of what is already going on.
so anyhow, it's nice to be able to take some notes on how to consider doing things in my own ministry one day. at best, i'll only be able to attend that church 4 more times. but i appreciate the chance to step outside of what has become ordinary to me and behave as a student, not a critic, in addition to a worshiper.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
everyday is an adventure
i have new favorite d.c. moment. last night, i joined betsey and luke for a nationals game after work. despite the oppressive heat, we scored $5 seats in the shade at the very top of the park. i even got my picture made with the racing presidents and collected a free t-shirt. we had settled in and watched 4 innings before the thunder began to rumble. we turned around to see the sky filled with black clouds. we noticed rain starting to fall and cascade over the awning above us, but we had shelter. then the wind started to whip and and lash raindrops at us horizontally. suddenly the sky let loose, the players rushed for the dugouts, and a huge tarp was unrolled over the diamond. as we stood admiring the swirl of the wind and water, getting wetter by the minute, a security guard asked us all to clear the bleachers and move down to the concourse. which of course involved going out into the thick of it. and once we got down there, the horizontal rain continued to drench us and we found ourselves shivering on a 95 degree day. shivering and laughing hysterically. betsey and i crouched under a stairwell for shelter while luke gave us updates on the downpour. almost as soon as it started, the rain was over.
the metro, too, continues to be an experience. in the heat, the descent into the earth is blessed relief and yet chaos. there are businessmen and summer interns and panhandlers and women with babies. there are kindles and blackberries and ipads and ipods. there is much haste and pushiness, which only makes the moments of kindness and thoughtfulness all the sweeter. today, one woman took charge of moving people toward the center of the car (as an announcement reminds us at every station, to which no one seems to listen) so more people could cram in. of course, once we had effectively fit everyone from the platform, the conductor came over the intercom to announce that we would have to sit for a moment due to a medical emergency somewhere on the train. so there we are, limbs contorting, brows sweating. on the world's stage, the metro is certainly the theater of the absurd.
everyday is an adventure.
but even as these dc-centric activities captivate my day-to-day experience, "real" life lies in wait not too far away. my UMC candidacy mentor asked me to call him on monday at lunch. i went outside to the sidewalk in front of my building and talked with him for about 20 minutes. we scheduled this call to discuss the personal interest inventory survey that i took several months ago. the good news: now that we've had this conversation, i can move forward in the process towards certification by scheduling my psych. evaluation--which is what will likely take the most time between now and december interviews. the bad news: the inventory determined that i have moderate to low interest in ordained ministry. hmmm. problematic for one pursuing, in fact, ordained ministry. and shane told me that the district board will have these results in front of them (among other things) when i go for my interview.
the survey did indicate that i have a 90th percentile interest in scholarship and academics. yes, makes sense. i've loved seminary and i've always done well academically. i love learning and reading and teaching. that's where my life was when i took the survey (and still is)--in school, in academia. of course i would display an aptitude for that.
my frustration comes in that these other areas of low interest are places where i am still (and very consciously so) discerning my call. and though i'm only 1/3 of the way through seminary, i've discovered SO much about myself and about my place in ministry with the Methodist Church. and the fact that i want to fight for this, to defend this call even though this survey--this snapshot of one point in a time of intense growth--might subtly suggest otherwise...that in itself is a huge indication of growth. check out my archived blogs from this time last year and you'll quickly recall my struggle with ordination. i've come so far, and i am encouraged to see that growth in myself. in fact, i think it will be a great point of discussion with the D-com.
some of the immediate areas of growth that i see in myself from the time of the survey to now: interest in preaching and politics, and an overall desire to explore parish ministry more closely. and i really have no interest or intent to pursue doctoral studies or teaching at the seminary level, which is what this survey seemed to indicate i might want to do. educational ministries within the church or parachurch sector? yes. but my time at Haygood next year will do me a world of good in experiencing parish ministry so i can grow my interest and my skills in that very important realm that is THE church.
one further thing i didn't talk through with my mentor regarding these results. i am working towards deacon's orders, which may allow me to push the boundaries of ordained ministry a bit more. like i've said before, i'm following this particular call because it is an ordination to work in the church and in the world. if formal pastoral care isn't high on my list of interests (shane so kindly read for me that the survey indicated that i have no interest in caring for people in difficult times. ha), well, it might still work out for me to have a more specialized ministry position, like in education, for example. and so on. not that all these skills don't contribute to one another, of course. teachers need a heck of a lot of pastoral care--it just may not come in nursing homes and by deathbeds.
so that's all simmering on the back burner. at the forefront of my attention has been my internship, of course, which is continuing to go well. i've received direction on another big project to occupy my time--getting church resources ready for the web--in addition to my work on bread for the preacher. the first edition that i worked on came out today! i also had the third meeting with the other d.c. beatitude fellows today, and i'm really starting to look forward to that time together. it's great to interact with people who are so similarly-minded (we laugh at all the same nerdy seminarian jokes) and who are going through such similar experiences as each other. we're reading this terrible book that is supposed to be defining for us what progressive Christianity is...we're all ready to re-write the thing ourselves because it's falling so short of its well-meaning intentions. yet it has sparked such fruitful discussion and i just LOVE talking and thinking about this kind of stuff--in the midst of doing it all at Bread at the same time.
now if only i can manage to keep my cool in this intense heat! i would so like to go for a run but am afraid i might die. literally. i'm thinking either the national gallery, the holocaust museum, or one of the smithsonians this weekend--something indoors, for sure!
the metro, too, continues to be an experience. in the heat, the descent into the earth is blessed relief and yet chaos. there are businessmen and summer interns and panhandlers and women with babies. there are kindles and blackberries and ipads and ipods. there is much haste and pushiness, which only makes the moments of kindness and thoughtfulness all the sweeter. today, one woman took charge of moving people toward the center of the car (as an announcement reminds us at every station, to which no one seems to listen) so more people could cram in. of course, once we had effectively fit everyone from the platform, the conductor came over the intercom to announce that we would have to sit for a moment due to a medical emergency somewhere on the train. so there we are, limbs contorting, brows sweating. on the world's stage, the metro is certainly the theater of the absurd.
everyday is an adventure.
but even as these dc-centric activities captivate my day-to-day experience, "real" life lies in wait not too far away. my UMC candidacy mentor asked me to call him on monday at lunch. i went outside to the sidewalk in front of my building and talked with him for about 20 minutes. we scheduled this call to discuss the personal interest inventory survey that i took several months ago. the good news: now that we've had this conversation, i can move forward in the process towards certification by scheduling my psych. evaluation--which is what will likely take the most time between now and december interviews. the bad news: the inventory determined that i have moderate to low interest in ordained ministry. hmmm. problematic for one pursuing, in fact, ordained ministry. and shane told me that the district board will have these results in front of them (among other things) when i go for my interview.
the survey did indicate that i have a 90th percentile interest in scholarship and academics. yes, makes sense. i've loved seminary and i've always done well academically. i love learning and reading and teaching. that's where my life was when i took the survey (and still is)--in school, in academia. of course i would display an aptitude for that.
my frustration comes in that these other areas of low interest are places where i am still (and very consciously so) discerning my call. and though i'm only 1/3 of the way through seminary, i've discovered SO much about myself and about my place in ministry with the Methodist Church. and the fact that i want to fight for this, to defend this call even though this survey--this snapshot of one point in a time of intense growth--might subtly suggest otherwise...that in itself is a huge indication of growth. check out my archived blogs from this time last year and you'll quickly recall my struggle with ordination. i've come so far, and i am encouraged to see that growth in myself. in fact, i think it will be a great point of discussion with the D-com.
some of the immediate areas of growth that i see in myself from the time of the survey to now: interest in preaching and politics, and an overall desire to explore parish ministry more closely. and i really have no interest or intent to pursue doctoral studies or teaching at the seminary level, which is what this survey seemed to indicate i might want to do. educational ministries within the church or parachurch sector? yes. but my time at Haygood next year will do me a world of good in experiencing parish ministry so i can grow my interest and my skills in that very important realm that is THE church.
one further thing i didn't talk through with my mentor regarding these results. i am working towards deacon's orders, which may allow me to push the boundaries of ordained ministry a bit more. like i've said before, i'm following this particular call because it is an ordination to work in the church and in the world. if formal pastoral care isn't high on my list of interests (shane so kindly read for me that the survey indicated that i have no interest in caring for people in difficult times. ha), well, it might still work out for me to have a more specialized ministry position, like in education, for example. and so on. not that all these skills don't contribute to one another, of course. teachers need a heck of a lot of pastoral care--it just may not come in nursing homes and by deathbeds.
so that's all simmering on the back burner. at the forefront of my attention has been my internship, of course, which is continuing to go well. i've received direction on another big project to occupy my time--getting church resources ready for the web--in addition to my work on bread for the preacher. the first edition that i worked on came out today! i also had the third meeting with the other d.c. beatitude fellows today, and i'm really starting to look forward to that time together. it's great to interact with people who are so similarly-minded (we laugh at all the same nerdy seminarian jokes) and who are going through such similar experiences as each other. we're reading this terrible book that is supposed to be defining for us what progressive Christianity is...we're all ready to re-write the thing ourselves because it's falling so short of its well-meaning intentions. yet it has sparked such fruitful discussion and i just LOVE talking and thinking about this kind of stuff--in the midst of doing it all at Bread at the same time.
now if only i can manage to keep my cool in this intense heat! i would so like to go for a run but am afraid i might die. literally. i'm thinking either the national gallery, the holocaust museum, or one of the smithsonians this weekend--something indoors, for sure!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
busy bee
nothing beats eating a cup full of frozen yogurt at the end of a hot day while strolling down the city streets with your best friend and her hubby. and that's just what i did this evening, even though our plans to sit with our feet dangling in the fountain at the sculpture garden were upended by its early closing hour. ah well--there will be other summer nights for strolling and wading and fro-yo-ing.
before that, the three of us spent some time wandering around the national portrait gallery/smithsonian art museum. i actually got there a bit earlier than the Teaters, and had some time alone. the portraits are all really interesting, and it was fun to play a game with myself to see which ones i recognized or not. but then, i came up a staircase and turned a corner and there were the impressionists. soft lines and colors, landscapes and figures out of the best kind of dreams. if we each end up with our own little piece of heaven, i think mine would look like an impressionist painting. some of them almost brought me to tears. i don't know what it is. so much beauty and life and hope and sadness.
before that, i made an appearance at a party for one of our bread interns who is leaving in the next couple of weeks. it was nice to see people outside of the office, to talk and eat and just chill. okay, 'chill' may not be the most appropriate word, because it was HOT. we were outside on this tiny little porch that, though shaded, was not catching any breeze. i finally decided to stop sitting with my legs crossed, because every time i moved, there was this disgusting sshtuchk sound as my skin unstuck itself and then suctioned back on again.
and before that, i slept in. GLORY. it has been quite a long week.
tuesday was lobby day--bread's biggest day of the year. we all gathered on capitol hill around 8:30 and spent the morning learning about the issue at hand: tax credits. after being adequately prepared, we split up into teams by region, then state, and went to the office buildings to lobby. i'll be honest, this is not something i ever saw myself doing. but i did. i went to my senators' offices, with my new friend Lloyd from Durham, and talked to office staff about tax credits and why it is important to help working families keep benefits so that they won't fall into poverty and have nothing to feed their children. it's really empowering to walk into a government office and have someone listen to what you have to say. it's quite poignant to be here, with this organization, after spending a year at MUST, eating a meal each Wednesday night with a group of people experiencing homelessness, and after learning about the importance of attacking root causes instead of just band-aiding situations (thank you, Dr. Jenkins!)--to really be doing it, a small part of it, working to change structures that cause hunger and homelessness instead of only giving out food and a place to sleep.
so tuesday was a solid twelve hour day (plus the hour commute on either end), after the reception and closing worship that followed our afternoon of lobbying. but all of us had to be in the office on wednesday morning, because there was a big announcement to be made that all the higher-ups had been keeping hush-hush for the last week. we gathered over catered chinese food and plastic cups of champagne, and learned that the president of bread, david beckmann, has been named a world food laureate for 2010. this is a big cause for celebration and a great opportunity to step forward for bread. after that announcement was made, i joined the other interns on my first hill drop--we had envelopes addressed to every senator and representative detailing the news about beckmann. so i took 50 letters to 50 senators' offices.
i was kept pretty busy on thursday, too--i had to learn how to supervise the tasks of two volunteer-interns who are coming in for two days at the end of next week. both the administrative assistant and my supervisor will be gone on the days these folks are here, so yours truly is in charge. 2 weeks on the job and i'm already management ;) hopefully all will run smoothly.
what's made the week feel exceptionally long is that the ugly beast of vertigo is back. i felt nauseous on the ride home on the train a couple of nights early in the week, then on thursday the dizziness started to wash over me just sitting at my desk at work. it's such a terrible feeling. after consulting with Dr. Paw-Paw (that is, my grandfather), hopefully i can scale back my caffeine intake, try to get into a more regular sleep pattern, and keep drinking plenty of water. it's no good getting motion sick when each day involves a long metro ride to and from work.
so all in all, life is quite full to the brim right now. i want to try and be better about taking sabbath on the weekend. so after church and lunch with mal tomorrow, i'm planning to take it easy, read a little, maybe even nap, watch some soccer, go for a run, and get myself ready for another week.
before that, the three of us spent some time wandering around the national portrait gallery/smithsonian art museum. i actually got there a bit earlier than the Teaters, and had some time alone. the portraits are all really interesting, and it was fun to play a game with myself to see which ones i recognized or not. but then, i came up a staircase and turned a corner and there were the impressionists. soft lines and colors, landscapes and figures out of the best kind of dreams. if we each end up with our own little piece of heaven, i think mine would look like an impressionist painting. some of them almost brought me to tears. i don't know what it is. so much beauty and life and hope and sadness.
before that, i made an appearance at a party for one of our bread interns who is leaving in the next couple of weeks. it was nice to see people outside of the office, to talk and eat and just chill. okay, 'chill' may not be the most appropriate word, because it was HOT. we were outside on this tiny little porch that, though shaded, was not catching any breeze. i finally decided to stop sitting with my legs crossed, because every time i moved, there was this disgusting sshtuchk sound as my skin unstuck itself and then suctioned back on again.
and before that, i slept in. GLORY. it has been quite a long week.
tuesday was lobby day--bread's biggest day of the year. we all gathered on capitol hill around 8:30 and spent the morning learning about the issue at hand: tax credits. after being adequately prepared, we split up into teams by region, then state, and went to the office buildings to lobby. i'll be honest, this is not something i ever saw myself doing. but i did. i went to my senators' offices, with my new friend Lloyd from Durham, and talked to office staff about tax credits and why it is important to help working families keep benefits so that they won't fall into poverty and have nothing to feed their children. it's really empowering to walk into a government office and have someone listen to what you have to say. it's quite poignant to be here, with this organization, after spending a year at MUST, eating a meal each Wednesday night with a group of people experiencing homelessness, and after learning about the importance of attacking root causes instead of just band-aiding situations (thank you, Dr. Jenkins!)--to really be doing it, a small part of it, working to change structures that cause hunger and homelessness instead of only giving out food and a place to sleep.
so tuesday was a solid twelve hour day (plus the hour commute on either end), after the reception and closing worship that followed our afternoon of lobbying. but all of us had to be in the office on wednesday morning, because there was a big announcement to be made that all the higher-ups had been keeping hush-hush for the last week. we gathered over catered chinese food and plastic cups of champagne, and learned that the president of bread, david beckmann, has been named a world food laureate for 2010. this is a big cause for celebration and a great opportunity to step forward for bread. after that announcement was made, i joined the other interns on my first hill drop--we had envelopes addressed to every senator and representative detailing the news about beckmann. so i took 50 letters to 50 senators' offices.
i was kept pretty busy on thursday, too--i had to learn how to supervise the tasks of two volunteer-interns who are coming in for two days at the end of next week. both the administrative assistant and my supervisor will be gone on the days these folks are here, so yours truly is in charge. 2 weeks on the job and i'm already management ;) hopefully all will run smoothly.
what's made the week feel exceptionally long is that the ugly beast of vertigo is back. i felt nauseous on the ride home on the train a couple of nights early in the week, then on thursday the dizziness started to wash over me just sitting at my desk at work. it's such a terrible feeling. after consulting with Dr. Paw-Paw (that is, my grandfather), hopefully i can scale back my caffeine intake, try to get into a more regular sleep pattern, and keep drinking plenty of water. it's no good getting motion sick when each day involves a long metro ride to and from work.
so all in all, life is quite full to the brim right now. i want to try and be better about taking sabbath on the weekend. so after church and lunch with mal tomorrow, i'm planning to take it easy, read a little, maybe even nap, watch some soccer, go for a run, and get myself ready for another week.
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