Until January 13...

...I will be working.

I so wish this had said, "I will be on vacation."

I've neglected this damn blog for weeks now. Why not explain? And leave it be. I don't like feeling guilty.

The semester is coming to a close, but I have so much work remaining for commissioning/ordination/probationary paperwork. So much. I've got some preaching dates in the coming days, too.

I leave you with these fun pictures to get you through. These are good. Real good. My friends played with the sculpting ball while I cooked for them. Best entertainment as I worked from the kitchen. Loved every second. I got some good friends. And they know how to bring the laughs.

Advent blessings. Happy holidays. Merry Christmas. And the hope of a peaceful New Year.

BEAT

ps: Best part, my last semester starts January 11. There will be no break. And the work just keeps coming. But I will be back. Just don't hold your breath.

Use Your Words

One of my favorite blogs, Girl's Gone Child, uses the phrase "use your words" for her comments section. The first time I noticed this little phrase instead of the usual "comments" tag at the end of a post, I pondered. That's right, I pondered. I took a moment and thought it over. What an invitation! What a nice little phrase to request another's thoughts on your thoughts.

A few posts back I referenced my current struggle with words. Not only do I not want to use my words, I don't want to think about the words that I could (and should) use. This love -(mostly) hate relationship with words has stretched into all facets of my life. From class assignments to church work, I am tired.

I registered for my last semester of classes last week. I wish it was more bitter-sweet. I do. I wish I was one of those people who lamented the end of a student lifestyle. I no longer find fulfillment in the classroom. Daily I'm surrounded by some of the greatest minds in the academy. I know this. I sit, listen, and learn in awe of their intellect.

I will make it through this period of love - (mostly) hate relationship with words. I have to if I want to pass my classes and get paid from work. Even if it takes locking myself in a small room with no distractions. This process usually includes turning off the wireless on my computer.

The words are there. (God, I hope they are.) I need to get past my own unwillingness and selfish. And realize I am in a time and place that is fleeting and to which (most likely) I will never return.

I'm (re)relearning to use my words. I hope you are using your words. And if you have any, leave some for me. I like the distraction. You know, when I allow myself to turn the wireless back on.

Turning it off,

BEAT

Friendship Is Not Like A Booty Call

I went to a great service this morning. Two hours seemed like twenty minutes. It was a place of welcome. A church that made space for the homeless. Not just space, but a home where every member is valued. Put to work. And given praise. 

Justice is for all. They even had a "ritual" of hospitality.

The sermon was about friendship. The dynamic pastor said, "Friendship is not like a booty call. It requires foreplay and after-play." Of course you laugh. Of course. But how true. He explained that friendship requires three essential components. He took something most fear, the IRS, and used those initials to outline the necessity of Intentionality, Response, and Sustain. This IRS is what allows us to be friends. Good friends. Great friends. Best friends. Which equals work. Hence the need for foreplay and after-play. 

I want to be that good of a preacher one day. Honest. True. Lively. Relational. Gospel.

Nothing like a booty call,

BEAT

Photo Friday: Church in the City

I am back in class. Maymester. Lovely. It is an extremely emotional course about the church in the urban community. How does the church respond to such injustices as: food deserts, violence, homelessness, and unfair working conditions? How does the church promote: living wages, education, and health care? That is what I've spent the last four days discussing. And I have five more days to go. I am emotionally drained. And almost physically. Twelve hour days can be tough.

Let's not forget, the hard questions must be asked. I still have prostitution, abuse, prison, and much more to discuss.

Above are some pictures reflecting the last few days. All over Nashville. Today, in particular, we did a neighborhood mapping exercise. I wish I had a barber shop to hang out at.

Hard and more hard questions,

BEAT

Service of Celebration

I have friends that are not allowed to be ordained in their traditions because of gender and/or sexual orientation. My heart breaks over this issue. I have friends who are better preachers, teachers, and servants than me. Better. Hands down. But I am allowed to be ordained in my tradition. My friends cannot because they are gay. (And in other traditions, because they are females.) I stay in my tradition. I could try to explain about working within the organization for change. I could. But it is so hard to explain. 

Today I celebrated my friends' gifts. I celebrated their call to ministry. Listen to me. All of you. They are called to ministry. I celebrated their diversity. And by God, we are a diverse bunch with diverse calls that awaken diverse gifts. I celebrated. We celebrated. 

I listened as an inspired commissioning message was delivered. Now, my friends, I ask you to listen:

"As one of your communities we have been privileged to experience your many gifts over the last few years.  We know that these gifts – of kindness, of loving justice, of hospitality, of compassion, of love of study, of imagination for what can be…. are gifts from God.  The fact that our various institutional churches have unjust roadblocks to ordination does not negate or diminish these gifts.  God has animated your life with the Divine Spirit, and the truth is you do not need anybody’s blessing to be about God’s work in the world.  The broken places of our world actually don’t care too much about credentials. 

But – let us not be naïve -- we live in a world where credentials still matter.  There will  be some professional opportunities that are not available to you because of your gender or your sexual orientation.  One of the challenges for you around this will be finding ways to be faithful to your call and the expression of the gifts you have been given….while negotiating your way around some anger you may feel about the church’s blind spots...

And so my word of commissioning to you today is to be attentive to the anger, but do not let it paralyze you. 

May it become a kind of righteous indignation

A slow-burning Pentecost fire in your belly that keeps all of us yearning for that day when our churches will look like God’s dream of an inclusive, beloved community. 

Anger is a power.  Use your powers for good."

You may not agree. You may not even agree that I should be ordained because of my gender. But I wept with my friends today. I wept because their call to ministry has been denied by so many. Their call is denied by the tradition that I hold near and dear to my heart. But I wept for joy, too. I wept as stoles were draped around their necks to honor their call. I wept because I promised to be an advocate. I wept in solidarity. I wept. We wept. I believe God wept. 

The church continues. It continues as the sign, symbol, and presence of God's reign on earth. I will be present, and I will work. Hard. I have been called to the vocation of ministry. And out of my own calling is a responsibility to acknowledge, support, and advocate for others to fulfill their callings. 

I wept today. I wept out of deep sadness. I wept from the experience of joy. 

It was a service of celebration. Celebrate with me. Amen.              BEAT