Winter Weather

I like winter weather and always have. I love the beauty it creates, I love the coziness of staying inside (though when I worked with the homeless in Durham, it did make me rethink my stance). I really don't mind it all and I'm happy that it often makes us slow down a bit. I'm going to add a qualifier, though: no winter precipitation on Saturday nights.

It's been a bit of a crazy morning. We were supposed to have our Church Family Christmas Dinner. With the relationships within the church on the mend and folks actually enjoying spending time together, I looked forward to our lunch. But nooooooooo. It had to rain. And then snow. And then it got really cold. The snow looks pretty, but the ice on the roads does not. So we (meaning me and my minions) have had to make the decision whether to have church or not. We elected to postpone. It's supposed to warm up later, which will, in theory, melt some of the ice. So we'll have an evening service and dinner afterwards. I'm sure the crowd won't be as large, but as I called around this morning, folks seemed relieved that they wouldn't have to get out in it just yet.

So now I have a rare Sunday morning in. I'm wondering what I'll do with the extra time....

Veterans Day

Last year, in England, I had a particularly difficult Sunday right about now. Remembrance Sunday. The day when all of the UK remembers and honors their war dead. I had managed to get through the first year fairly unscathed. We had done our two minutes of silence in church, I preached vaguely about peace, and I was done with it. Last year didn't go so smoothly. (You can read the post here. Scroll down to the bottom.) I remember feeling quite angry and unfaithful and upset after the event. Interestingly enough, the stewards at that church remarked on an evaluation that, in regards to worship, 'I seemed to have difficulty with some of the peculiarly English services.' They didn't get it. It wasn't about the Englishness of it and my non-English nationality. Instead, it had to do with God's house being used as a place to glorify war and God being identified with a particular nation (we sang the national anthem).

This year, I tried to be sneaky. No one had mentioned to me any particular expectations or traditions of this congregation with regards to Veterans' Day. I thought I had escaped! My hope was to ignore it and then plead ignorance after the fact. Didn't work.

Toward the end of the service, during the offering, I received a note--'Sarah, don't forget today is Veterans' Day!' Oy. I mouthed to the person that I had hoped to ignore it. They didn't seem offended by the idea, but I figured I ought to say something. We finished the offering and all we had left was the last hymn. We were even going to get done early! So I decided to address the issue.

I was honest with them. I told them I had hoped to ignore the holiday and I told them why. I explained my discomfort with merging God and country, faith and nation. Thankfully, we had addressed some of this in Bible study, so I could allude to that experience for credibility. But then I went on to say that often, the only place veterans receive any recognition is in church. I finished off by acknowledging that anytime someone sacrifices for the sake of another, it is a holy action. (At this point, I wondered what I was saying and where in the world I could be going with this little speech!) I reminded them that for all the sacrifice that the veterans had done for us, the ultimate sacrifice was that of Jesus, coming to earth for us, dying on the cross for us. That's our ultimate loyalty. So then after a bit more (can't remember what all I said), I asked the veterans in the congregation to stand and be recognized. There were probably 7 or 8 who stood. They were applauded, I said a prayer giving thanks to God for their example of how to sacrifice for what we believe in, we sang the last hymn and ended the service.

Needless to say, I was a bit nervous giving this little homily 1) off the cuff; and 2) I didn't think it would be a very popular stance to take. Turned out not so bad. Several folks agreed with me afterwards! One veteran said he had been in war and there was nothing Godly about it. Another man (non veteran) said he didn't like to sing 'My Country 'Tis of Thee' in church. At lunch, another veteran said he didn't particularly enjoy being reminded of the atrocities he experienced, that it had taken him over 50 years to feel forgiven for what he had done and did not want to remember some of the things he had been asked to do. When he told me that, it felt like a very holy moment and I was honored that he shared with me.

So I learned two very valuable lessons yesterday. 1) Be honest. Don't be afraid of the reaction, just tell the truth. 2) Don't sell the congregation short. I made assumptions about these folks and turned out to be quite wrong.

I was very humbled yesterday. Thanks be to God.

Ahhh, the city....

I'm in the city and it's lovely. I hate the driving part...especially since I don't know where anything is. But man, it's nice to be in the city for an evening.

When I first contemplated driving up here, I wasn't too excited. With all the news about the price of gas, the environmental impact of driving 200+ miles round trip, I had my ethical objections; plus I really didn't want to drive all that way. I did have a work excuse, I visited somebody in hospital, so I even got paid for the trip! But once I got here, did the visit, I'm so glad I came.

On the way up, I heard about a concert at the Cathedral, so I called and learned where it was, etc. Now I'm in a coffee shop, waiting for the time to arrive. And in the meantime, I can chat with friends, write on my blog, and even read if I feel like it. And there are other people around!

I miss the city. Somebody (I can't remember who, maybe my mentor) tried to justify not living in the city by saying that the infrequency of my visits made the times I spend in urban areas all the more special. Not sure I buy that. But I guess it's a good way to think about it, if nothing else but to get me through until I can actually live in a city again.

In any case, I'm going to enjoy it while I'm here!

Holier than Thou

I've about had it with folks. And I know I fall into the same trap from time to time, but I'm quite aggravated at the minute. You've already read about the previous troubles in the church. Those have somewhat sorted themselves out, though not really. But I just got a phone call that's irked me a bit.

Some of you might know that we've got a Habitat chapter here in town and we've just selected our family. There's been all sorts of press about it so we can garner up some support. The family that was selected, based on the greatest need, is a blended family. The man who applied has several kids by previous relationships. He's also currently living with his fiance. They aren't married. Habitat has four primary criteria for who gets a house. They must be 1) a US citizen; 2) employed; 3) living in substandard housing; 4)willing to help build their home. That's it.

Habitat bills itself as a Christian organization, which I believe it is. Simply by offering a hand up out of poverty, I see Jesus acting through us. I'm proud to be a part of a local project.

So I get this call this afternoon. This woman and her husband (not in my congregation) were wanting to volunteer to help, until they saw that the family we chose were 'living in sin.' So now they're refusing to help.

I'm so angry I could either cry. How did the Church get to the point where we would only help perfect people? Don't all of us live in sin every day? Didn't Jesus help people while they were in sin instead of waiting for them to clean up their lives and then offer to help them? I tried to explain it to her, but she said we should invite them to church, but not necessarily help them live in a suitable home.

I understand, to a degree, where this woman is coming from. But I still don't understand. How did Christianity become only about living with a moral checklist (often only containing those morals that we ourselves can live by) and less about helping the poor and the outcast?

I'd like some help on how to word an argument with folks who bring this up, because this is not the first time I've heard this since we announced our family.

Rock, Meet Hard Place

I'm stuck.

So I've been here nearly four months now. Seems a lot longer sometimes. But only four months. It's amazing how much history and information about a place one can gather in such a short time. Folks are eager to share their stories and the story of the community in which they live. And I'm more than happy to listen.

What I've heard is a lot of frustration, disappointment and hurt, surrounded with a tinge of hope. It's hard not to get sucked into the cycle of negativity. Really hard. I've tried to maintain my objectivity, with some success. But I think I'm beginning to experience why folks feel the way they do.

There are two families in the church who pretty much run the place. Why, I'm not to sure, as they have yet to be very actively involved in anything these last four months. But they all hold prominent positions on key committees and everybody else (for the most part) is either afraid of them or works around them. Sounds healthy, I know.

Recently, I upset the two families. Woo hoo! Go me. The mess stems from a sign I put up outside the church that the two ladies found offensive (oddly enough, no one else I spoke to found it offensive, and I asked a wide range of folks). They shared their concerns with me. I thanked them for sharing those concerns and politely replied that I would leave the sign up for a few more days. In sum, the said message stayed up for a week.

One family hasn't been to church since (two weeks). The other boycotted last week and is boycotting again next week (I know this because the man of the house was supposed to preach, but now they're conveniently going to be out of town).

These two families are good friends with a third family. This third family has been quite supportive of me and in a strange twist of irony, helped me put up the sign. It's a difficult situation for them. The lady was in tears on Sunday.

So I'm stuck. From what I've heard, this has been a pattern of behavior for these folks for a while now, with every new pastor receiving a similar treatment. So what do I do? Most folks in the church are at the same time frustrated with this pattern, but seemed to be resigned to it. I'd like to stop the pattern. Nobody deserves to be treated like this. But at what cost do I stand up to them? Part of me thinks the church would be healthier with a change in leadership. But to find out, I risk tearing the church apart and potentially breaking relationships that have existed much longer than the four months I've been here.

I wish wisdom came without experience.

Update

Yeah, I know it's been awhile. My apologies to my faithful readers.

Things here have been advancing about as expected. There have been a few bumps along the road--this isn't the healthiest of congregations. I won't elaborate, in order to protect the innocent and the guilty.

It's been a difficult transition back to the US. More difficult in some ways, less in others. Relearning Church has been one of those learning cliffs. When I went to England, I noticed how many meetings we had. I assumed (!) that since I had fewer churches, I'd have fewer meetings. Ha! The United Methodist Church forms committees for just about anything. Since the beginning of September, I've had about two committee meetings a week. That's all going to stop soon, hopefully. We're going to try a more consolidated approach and see what happens.

Also, because I only have one church instead of four, the church members view their pastor differently. With four churches, each one understands that I will have to be with one of the others 3/4 of the time. Thus, the minister serves a more formal and official role. If I tried to move a table or a chair, I'd get chastised. I could obviously spend my time better doing something else. Here, without spreading myself so thin, the pastor becomes more apart of the church and community. Instead of being excited and privileged when I arrive (as in England), folks here, while still glad to see me (hopefully), I'm more expected to be around.

I've also taken on the role of choir director. Now, in England, I knew of two churches that had choirs. This one has a choir (loosely so called) and no director. They don't particularly like to practice, but they do like to sing on Sunday morning. You can imagine the quality of performance. Not to mention, I've never had any experience choosing choir music. It's a bit different than picking a hymn out of the hymnal. I don't even know where to begin looking, other than the choir file cabinets...with music dating as late as 1983 and as early as 1951.

The most exciting thing that's happened is that I stumbled across a newly started Habitat for Humanity chapter. We're about to choose our first family and will hopefully start working on the house soon. It's been great. Not only are we building a house for someone who needs it, but it's also been a great opportunity to meet folks in the community who aren't church members.

Socially, things are still slow in developing. There aren't many folks my age in the area. I travel 30 miles (one way) at least 3 times a week. Hopefully, I'll find something there to get involved in. I've joined the gym. Plus, tomorrow night I'm going to a meeting about climate change. They meet once a month and talk about various issues. I'm looking forward to the meeting tomorrow night. Hopefully it will be interesting and fruitful.

That's all for now. Will try and update more regularly.

Health Care

I'm a bit incensed at the minute. Like many folks, I have allergy and hayfever problems and I need to take drugs to be able to breathe. In England, I could get my allergy medicine over the counter, not having to pay for a doctor's visit (oh, wait, I didn't have to pay for a doctor's visit anyway!) or worry about getting a prescription. A month's worth of the medicine cost me about $40 a month.

Welcome back to the US. Yesterday, I paid a doctor $30 to see me for 5 minutes (after waiting nearly 2 hours) and then had to pay over $70 for a month's worth of the exact same medicine. AND I HAVE INSURANCE. This is absolutely ridiculous.

I know the National Health Service in England isn't perfect, but it's a far sight better than what we have here.

Vacation

My word, what a week!

In case I had forgotten my American roots, I had a crash-course reminder this week. Guy's been visiting the US for a couple of weeks now, and made the midwest a stop on his tour. He arrived about ten days ago and spent a couple of days here with me. We didn't do much--went to church, travelled to Cape and went to Lambert's in Sikeston. Oh, and I dragged him to a clergy picnic, poor chap. On Tuesday of last week, we got up early and headed north toward Mom and Dad's. We made a couple of stops along the way--Johnson's Shut-Ins and Elephant Rocks. We then slowly made our way across Missouri, generally avoiding the Interstate. About 9 hours after we left, we finally arrived. We spent that evening in, but that was the last rest we got for a few days. Wednesday, I showed him around where I grew up, where I went to school, and some of the local places of interest. That took about half a day. We spent the afternoon around Sedalia, doing some shopping for him, got some coffee and played on a high speed internet connection while we could (Mom and Dad's connection has gotten better, but it wasn't as fast as we were used to). That night, we went to Campmeeting, a rural American phenomenon, really. It was hot, but the sermon was good, so on the whole, Wednesday was good.

Thursday, we took in America's pastime and drove to Kansas City for a Royals baseball game. It was an afternoon start, so we roasted for several hours. Most of us came away a lovely shade of red--some pinker than others. I realized how much I had missed baseball. It's such a fun sport to take in live. That night we came home and were so beat we didn't want to do anything else. So we stayed in and played cards (a tradition we started on Tuesday night, actually). It was fun spending time with family again. I missed those hours, sitting around a table, playing a 'meaningless' game of cards--it isn't about the game, but about the time we share together. More families should do this.

Friday we finally made it to the Missouri State Fair. Woohoo! It was hot. Again. But it was fun to be back at the fair. We ate all the things you're supposed to eat at the fair. Took in the pig races, a horse show, and finished the day at the Rodeo. An exhausting, but fun day.

Saturday, Guy and I said good-bye to the folks and headed to Nashville. That night, we had tickets to a football game--Titans v Redskins. The fans were rude. The game a general bore. The prices ridiculous ($20 to park in a gravel lot). I'll agree with Guy, probably my least favorite aspect of the trip. While baseball might be best enjoyed in person, football is best watched on TV--fewer drunken idiots and I can find something else to do between plays.

Sunday, I was tired, so we stayed in the hotel and had a lazy morning. Just after noon, we went to The Hermitage, Andrew Jackson's home. It was cool. A bit pricey at $15 each. But now I can say I've been. We then went to a minor league baseball game, where Guy finally got to see a home run!

Dropped Guy off at the airport this morning and drove back for a meeting at 1:00 this afternoon.

All in all a good vacation. I enjoyed reconnecting with those quintessential American things like baseball and the fair and the rodeo and even some presidential history. Now that I'm back at work, I'll finally get some rest! It's been exhausting, but fun.

And it was good to see Guy again. I hope he enjoyed his time in the US. He certainly experienced the wide-range of experiences this country has to offer. I don't think we scared him off too badly. Perhaps he'll visit again sometime.

And now we settle in.

VBS

Well, we survived Vacation Bible School. I'll admit to wondering at the point of the VBS exercise year after year. Each year from week to week, the very same kids (especially in smaller communities similar to the one I find myself in) trek from church to church for VBS. It often feels like what once began as an evangelistic exercise has now turned into a case of which church can entertain them the most. Yes, I admit I'm fairly cynical.

However, in some churches, it's more about what the experience does for the adults who take part, I suppose. It gets them into the habit (or at least gives them an experience) of welcoming the stranger, making room for children. In the case of my church, we had just has many adults as we did children, which was fantastic.

In the end, though, we told the stories of our faith, perhaps planting seeds of faith. Plus, the members of the church work together, giving them yet another experience of life together, telling others about their faith in God, which can never be a bad thing.

Here's to another 50.5 weeks until the next VBS!

Churches Together

Well, I attended my first Ministerial Alliance meeting today. Oh my. I found out there are about 15 churches in the ZIP code (population: about 3500). At this meeting, three churches were represented. There seems to be a general lack of interest in ecumenical relationships, which despite all my frustrations with it in England, I find it a real shame.

But it's ok, because we have our Labor Day picnic. This picnic, kind of like a one-day fair, pays for all the social programs the ministerial alliance (read: the Assembly of God church) does throughout the year. By social programs, I mean energy assistance, food pantry, help with rent, etc. Note that the churches don't put any money into this social fund, but it all comes from this picnic.

Apparently, this picnic used to be quite the drunken festival, with the Knights of Columbus inviting a beer wagon to the festivities. Sounds like a good time to me, but the ministerial alliance had other ideas. So they took over to keep the beer out of the park. Note that no beer is allowed, but they do invite the NRA! I probably stepped in it on my first meeting, but I spoke up and said if we aren't going to allow beer at a church-sponsored event, then we shouldn't allow guns, either. This idea was met with an awkward silence before somebody quickly changed the subject. Excellent.

Anyway, the ministerial alliance needs some work. Don't know if I'm the person to do it. We'll see. It's a bit early to make any of those decisions. We'll just wait and see what happens.

Vacation Bible School starts next week. Woo hoo!!

Funerals

When I thought I'd write about differences and similarities between I must admit, I didn't expect the first funeral to come this soon. When I arrived in England, I think my first funeral was at least 2-3 months into the job. Mine arrived on Saturday.

Notch that as difference number one. In England, once somebody dies, for the most part, you can count on about two weeks before the funeral takes place, especially if it's a cremation (a burial is usually about a one week turnaround). Here, the lady died on Thursday and the funeral was Saturday.

Secondly, visitation. I noticed this difference acutely when my grandpa died in February. Wakes have typically gone out of fashion in England; here, they're a social event. Visitation took place Friday night and lasted three hours! I was so tired when it was over. I don't know how the family coped. But there was a steady stream of people pretty much the whole time.

I shared this one. The deceased was last active in the 90s, really. So the family requested that the pastor from that time do the funeral. (He's now retired, living about 30 miles away.) I wasn't about to object at this point, so he took the sermon. The strangest thing, he asked me to visit the family. I didn't mind, but figured he would fill in details as he remembered her. Unfortunately, she barely got a mention. Instead, it was a salvation sermon. I hate those at a funeral. But he did, with a call to conversion at the end.

All in all, a funeral is a funeral. I just need to learn where to stand when. Hopefully, the funeral directors will be patient with me as I learn the choreography. Here's to not another one for a while, though.

I have arrived.

Well, here we are. Really don't know what else to say. Ministry has begun. I'm sure I felt more out of my depths when I arrived in England, but I don't think that feeling changes. There's so much to learn, being in a new place. Plus, it's been a long time since I've done anything in an American church, let alone one this small. It's yet another learning cliff.

It's an odd thing, I've decided, returning from living abroad. Things here have changed, but it's supposed to be home and stay exactly the same. At the same time, I've changed, too. A lot. It's weird. In England, it was easy to pick out why I felt different from everybody else, why I didn't fit in quite right. But now, over here, it doesn't feel quite right, either, but there' s no outward or obvious sign of my difference. I'd rather be blatantly different than subtly so, if that makes any sense.

But anyway, the reentry continues. I've got most of the furniture ordered. I bought a new car. The house is slowly getting into shape. I'll have pictures to post soon.

Hope you're well.