Author Archives: jledmiston

I saw it one day in our young sons’ bedroom closet.  It was hanging with the clear dry cleaning plastic over it, but I could see that it was pink chiffon and it was tiny.  I have never been that dress size.

HH and I were the parents of three youngish children at the time and we were serving two different congregations.  Life was busy.  There was laundry to wash. There were sermons to write.

For months I saw that tiny pink dress hanging in the boys’ closet and I kept thinking that I should probably ask somebody about it, but there was too much going on.  The moment I left the boys’ room, my brain moved on to the next thing.

It was literally hanging in that closet for over a year until I finally asked HH, “What’s up with that tiny pink dress hanging in the boys’ closet?”  He didn’t know what I was talking about.

We both went to find the dress and there it was.  And it took HH a minute to remember.

“Oh!  There was a controversy when  ___ died about what she should wear in the (closed) casket.  Her sisters wanted her to wear a blue dress and her son wanted her to wear a pink dress.  And the sisters won.  But they didn’t want the son to know that they had asked the funeral director to change his mother from the pink dress to the blue dress.  And so they handed me the pink dress and asked me to hide it. So I brought it home.”

So here is the thing:

• Nobody had noticed the dress but me, even though everybody in the family had been in that closet.
• I had noticed the dress but didn’t consider it an emergency situation.  (i.e. I was pretty sure that neither my HH nor my kids had had a size two Significant Other they were hiding.)
• Our closets needed to be cleaned out.
• Sometimes family secrets are ridiculous.  (But many times they are not.)  And either way, we need to address them.

I consider this story a metaphor for ministry.  If we fail to notice “the elephant in the room” how much more do we fail to notice the pink dress in the closet?

The Good News:  I trusted my spouse and knew that the little dress wasn’t a souvenir from Vegas (or whatever.)  The Not-So-Good News: Being intentional about our closets takes work and focus.  And it’s unhealthy when families can’t let go of the ridiculous.  Was changing a dead woman’s casket outfit really worth the trouble?

Trust is essential whether we are talking about our spiritual leaders or our family members.  And we need to grapple with conflicts in the open together.

We gave the dress to Goodwill.

May your closets be organized and may you address what you find there sooner than later.

“We are all broken by something. We have all hurt someone and have been hurt.  We all share the condition of brokenness even if our brokenness is not equivalent.” Brian Stevenson in Just Mercy

Every person is broken but we expend a lot of energy hiding that truth.  I’m convinced that the more church members pretend like they do not struggle with with spiritual doubts/addiction/mental illness/bankruptcy/unemployment/imperfect children/bitterness/marriage problems/greed the more that congregation resembles a social club.

When we fail to admit the ways in which we are broken, it’s almost impossible to serve other people without feelings of superiority.  “I have it all together so I will deign to help people with cancer/in prison/who are homeless.”

This is not what authentic Christianity looks like.

My hero Brian Stevenson wrote in Just Mercy (2015) about his work as an attorney in Montgomery, Alabama serving poor incarcerated people – some on death row.  The work was incessant and exhausting.

He wrote story after story about mostly black men, women, and children who found themselves so utterly powerless in the face of the legal system that they were more than broken; they were crushed.

The work was burning him out . . . until he acknowledged that he, too, was broken.  He writes that being broken is what makes us human.  God did not create perfect robots.  God created people who bleed and ache and experience deep grief.  And often we break each other.  And sometimes we even enjoy breaking each other.

Imagine – as we encounter each other today – that we recognize that every single person we meet has hurts we cannot see.  Some are deeper than others, but we all have those broken places.  Every single one of us.

Being broken is what makes us human.

Image by Jon Shireman from his collection of shattered flowers.

Have you ever had friends who would Not Stop Talking about . . .

• A breakup?
• A family trauma?
• That time they were mistreated/betrayed/abused?

We human beings grieve our losses at different paces and a truly good friend keeps listening until the story no longer needs to be told.  Also, talented therapists are among God’s greatest gifts.

I was talking with a clergy colleague the other day about systemic racism – as you do – and he said something brilliant:

We need to talk this to death because resurrection only comes after death.

I find myself talking about systemic racism and white privilege quite often these days and some people are tired of hearing about it.  But there’s so much we need to address as People of Faith:  police shooting unarmed black people, the high incidence of incarceration among black men, the condition of schools in poor (often black or brown) neighborhoods, Confederate monuments, our nation’s history of lynching people of color.

As Debby Irving notes in Waking Up White, most brown and black families regularly talk about race around the dinner table, in the car, shopping, playing, sitting in waiting rooms.  In other words: everywhere.  Most white people do not talk about race because we don’t have to.  We assume we belong wherever we go.  We assume that “white” is the default skin color, at least in the United States, Canada, and western Europe.

Many people – including myself – don’t like to talk about unpleasant things. But following Jesus means engaging in the world’s injustices.  I’ve even had Christians weaponize Philippians 4:8 – accusing me of not being faithful when I bring up certain realities of life that are in no way honorable, just or pure.  Dirty water in Flint, people without electricity in Puerto Rico, and DACA kids come to mind.  Human trafficking.  Opioid addiction.  For-profit prisons.  People with no health insurance.

When we read our Bibles, notice how many times Jesus participated in conversations or activities that some might call “unpleasant.”  Here are a few.  Remember that he wasn’t crucified for making everybody happy.

Until the world becomes as God created it to be, we need to talk about dishonorable, unjust, and impure topics to death. Sometimes when we talk and talk and talk about life’s difficult realities, somebody decides to step up and take action.

Don’t we want resurrection for everyone?

Image is from the cover of Roz Chast’s memoir, drawn by the author. (2014)

Where can I get a cup of coffee?

Do we have a shredder?

Why do we do it this way?

There are good questions and there are better questions.  I’m a fan of Simon Sinek and “Why do we do this?”  can be a tender question – whether we’re talking about the annual fish fry or the everybody-join-hands-and-sing-KumBaYah at the end of worship. We take some questions more personally than others.

Good Questions make us especially uncomfortable if our identities are tied up in them.  “Why do we use artificial flower arrangements?” feels personal if I head up The Flower Guild.  “Why does the choir sing a 5 minute anthem at the end of worship?” sounds like a theological question if I’m the Choir Director asking my choir.  It can sound accusatory if I’m the Personnel Chairperson asking the Choir Director.

Here are some questions I would hope all Church Leaders would ask of themselves and their partners in ministry:

• Where did we see transformation in that worship service/chili dinner/mission trip?
• Who or what was transformed?
• Why are we doing this?

The answers point to spiritual growth or spiritual stagnation – or maybe even spiritual death. But it’s an easy way to assess how things are going.

Today is most likely my Last First Day of professional ministry.  Although we don’t know what God holds in store for us, chances are that today commences my fourth and last official call as a Presbyterian Pastor.  I’m pretty dang excited.

Weirdly enough, my last day of ministry in Alexandria, VA was exactly seven years ago today. There was a party, and my family was there, and Cindy was alive and present. It was also the day Osama Bin Laden died so there’s that.

As for this day, I look forward to everything – the inspirational, the frustrating, the holy, the not-so-holy, the relationships, the transformations, the hellos and good-byes.  I love professional ministry.  But I am the first to admit that what “success” will look like cannot be fully spelled out today.

The institutional Church exists in the throes of tumultuous change but I find this refreshing.  I humbly ask for your prayers today and my prayer for you is that you find something intensely meaningful in whatever you are doing on this May 1st in the year of our LORD 2018.

Image of the state flower of North Carolina.

I started watching the White House Correspondents’ Dinner on C-Span because I think Michelle Wolf is funny.  But then I turned off the television because it felt like I was participating in televised bullying.  If this means I’m a weeny, then yes, I am.

I often think about my father these days as I watch the news and feel shocked over the comments coming out of politicians’ (include the President’s) mouths.  HCE used to say, “Don’t lower yourself to their standards because they will always go lower than you will.”

When the President calls people names, those people usually don’t retaliate with more names because that would be childish.  When Michelle Wolf says that – even if the Republican candidate is “Jeff Pedophile Nazi Doctor” the Democrats will “mess it up” I often think they will mess it up because 1) there is literally not a better candidate running or – more likely – 2) one side will use tactics that the other side will not use because . . . Dignity. Human Respect. Basic Maturity.

I get that Michelle Wolf is a comedian and comics speak uncomfortable truths (because truth is funny as well as stinging) but Saturday night felt unnecessarily stinging.  The truest thing she said was at the end: “Flint still doesn’t have clean water” which is not at all funny.  I hadn’t watch until the end, but I read about it.

When I also read the post-dinner comments that Michelle Wolf’s words “destroyed” Sarah Huckabee Sanders, I felt more than uncomfortable.  It felt like those words further divided us and broke us as a culture.  It wasn’t Michelle Wolf’s job to be the peacemaker.  At all.  But I am craving someone to be a peacemaker.

We have got to figure out a way to stop retaliating and be the people we say we are:  working towards freedom and liberty and justice for all.

Who will lead us into that kind of response to our brokenness?

Back to my SHS dream:  she and I were at camp together.  We were literally doing crafts and making up skits – like you do.  She seemed nice.  I told her I was sorry for the way she had been treated at the dinner and she was still pretty angry about it.  But then I asked her not to retaliate because . . .  Jesus.

Sarah Huckabee Sanders and I might never be in the same camp and yet I still believe that nobody changes for the better because of exclusion and humiliation.  Love changes people for good.  Yes, I just said that.  I don’t care if it sounds naive.

But it’s even truer than the fact that Flint still doesn’t have clean water.

Image from the White House Correspondents’ Dinner on April 28, 2018 in the Washington Hilton.  I think she looked gorgeous that night.

I remember a day when – as a parish pastor – I chose cover art for a worship bulletin, did Greek word studies for a sermon on the Gospel of Luke, visited a new mom in the hospital, testified as a character witness in a military trial, moderated a session meeting, and talked with a newly retired member about her suicidal thoughts.  I remember feeling like I was in a pinball machine with no time to process these experiences.

[Note: one of the added stresses was that I also couldn’t share with anyone what I had done that day – but self-care is the topic of another post on another day.]

This memorable day came to mind as I read this article by John Dickerson.  He writes about President Obama’s week before Osama bin Laden was killed in 2011:

The events that took place immediately before and after those secret bin Laden meetings included: an education-policy speech; meetings with leaders from Denmark, Brazil, and Panama; meetings to avoid a government shutdown; a fund-raising dinner; a budget speech; a prayer breakfast; immigration-reform meetings; the announcement of a new national-security team; planning for his reelection campaign; and a military intervention in Libya. On April 27, the day before Obama chaired his last National Security Council meeting on the bin Laden raid, his White House released his long-form birth certificate to answer persistent questions about his birthplace raised by the man who would be his successor.

In the two days before the raid itself, Obama flew to Alabama to visit tornado victims and to Florida to visit with Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, who was recuperating from a gunshot wound. On Saturday, April 30, with the operation under way but its outcome uncertain, he attended the White House Correspondents’ dinner, where he had to entertain journalists with a comedy routine. In the joke-writing process, he had removed a quip about bin Laden. His aides were given no hint of why.

Dickerson mentions in this article that the President of the United States is expected to master pastoral skills.

Actual pastors are expected to be emotionally intelligent, theologically impressive, media savvy, administratively gifted life hackers.  Oh, and the pastor must be Christ-centered.  Of course.  And a good preacher.  Other helpful skills include: accounting, mechanical engineering, fundraising, and social work.

What actually happens is that the superbly gifted preacher might have weak bedside manner.  The mission leader might be an ineffective meeting facilitator. The deeply faithful shepherd might be a failed administrator.

Now more than ever, we need what Forbes Magazine calls “unbundling.”

We need leaders – in church and beyond – who know how to share power and break up hierarchies.  We need leaders who understand our limitations and welcome authentic partnerships.  We need leaders who are not threatened by the leadership of others.

No one person can excel in all the areas needed for excellent leadership.  But a good leader assembles a team that not only covers all the bases well but they work together for a common mission.

Pastor as Pinball is not a model for ministry.  We need time to process and pray and stare into space.

It’s less than 400 miles from Our Nation’s Capital where HH and I raised our children and served the Church for 22 years to North Carolina where I have moved to begin my next chapter of professional ministry.  But it took me seven years to get here.

Like the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt to Canaan, I have arrived from Virginia to North Carolina indirectly although my detour took only seven years.  I loved that detour through Chicago – which was the farthest west I’ve ever lived except for a summer in Guatemala.

I learned so much in Chicagoland.  I learned that deep dish pizza is for tourists and Rick Bayless’ restaurants are for people who appreciate the perfect mole sauce.  I learned that you can take the architectural boat trip a dozen times and it will be life-giving every time.  I learned that ketchup on hotdogs is an abomination. I learned that Anthony Rizzo is one of my favorite humans. And I learned a great deal about mid-council ministry.

Leadership is a fascinating journey and I can hardly wait to start working with leaders in my new part of the world.  I’ve been relishing this.

We learn from great leaders but we also learn from not-so-great leaders.  Learning how not to lead is as valuable as learning how. 

For many years, I’ve kept notes on the shifts into 21st Century leadership both in and outside the Church.  I have files and files and files. I see patterns and trends.  And it seems to come down to – simplistically – dignity and authenticity.

I’d love to hear your insights as I share my own in the coming days.

[Note: Like I said in my last two posts, my Roundtable Preaching Group does more than sermon preparation – at least in the traditional sense.  Yesterday we spent rich time with the extraordinary Jen Lord who inspired this post.]

Maybe you’ve heard the word “liminal.”  It gained popularity in theological and sociological circles in the early 20th Century by scholars like Arnold van Gennep and Victor Turner.  Liminal times are “threshold moments” when we are on the cusp of a new chapter in our lives.  From child to adult. From single to partnered.  From child-free to parent.  From active employee to retired. Rites of passage are essential tools for nourishing us through these transitions.There’s also the word “liminoid“ which is to liminal what opioids are to opiates.  Opiates are pain relievers that come from natural plants like poppies. Opioids are pain relievers that come from synthetic drugs like fentanyl.  The “-oid” suffix implies that something resembles the preceding thing, but it’s not exactly the same.  (One is fake-ish?)

Jen Lord pointed out that we humans confuse “liminoid” moments with “liminal” moments all the time.  Halloween is a “liminoid” moment, for example, in that a rough and tumble boy can don makeup and a dress for the night and it can be okay.  On Halloween we can try out different identities but actually the boy in this example hasn’t been permanently changed into a woman.  It was a costume. Comic Con events, virtual reality games and war re-enactment groups could be examples of liminoid moments.  People are not actually transformed into Captain America or a member of the Star Trek Bridge Crew or a Civil War soldier.  They are temporary roles we might play. [Another Note: some people dress as the people they truly are inside and they are not wearing costumes. I’m not talk by about Trans people or gender fluid people here.]

Take notice Church People.  We in the Church can easily fall into liminoid moments when we think we are experiencing a liminal moment.  Examples:

• The Christian who dresses up for Church on Sunday, but leaves Church without anything changing in her soul.  She goes back to work Monday being her same angry gossipy self.
• The worship experience draws huge crowds offering entertainment/amusement/fascinatation/spiritual intoxication. But the highs are short-lived. There is no actual spiritual transformation or community-building.

There’s also the word “limivoid“ which was coined by Bjorn Thomassen in 2012.  While liminal experiences transform us into a new way of being and liminoid experiences – at least for a moment – seem to transform us, limivoid experiences are deceptive.  Those who lead us promising salvation actually create chaos.  They set themselves up as purveyors of truth when actually they perpetuate destruction.  Scripture calls such leaders false prophets.

Note that Jesus gave his life in sacrifice to others for the sake of love.  False leaders only serve themselves while saying that they are serving the people.

This is heavy stuff for a Friday.  But here’s the thing:  now more than ever, there is a deep need for authentic, self-sacrificing, loving rituals which carry us across the thresholds of life.  Rites of passage are important.  They give our lives meaning.  They satisfy us deeply.

This is what the Church offers in the 21st Century – if we are being faithful.  True spiritual community gives us meaning and purpose.  It’s less about bells and whistles and fog machines and costumes. And it’s more about real life and genuine compassion and being the people we were created to be.

I love real Church.  But it’s hard to find.

Image of doors into a new space at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin, Texas.

My preaching group meets for about four days every year but we do much more than preach/share sermon preparation.  I was thinking about sharing the Top Ten Quotes of the week, but I can’t because:

1. Some of my favorite quotes are too revealing in terms of keeping confidence, and
2. Some of them make us sound a little unhinged.

One of the quotes I can share though is this one:  “I need someone to give me a benediction.”  A benediction – for those who don’t do church – is a blessing usually imparted by the preacher to the congregation at the end of a worship service.

In my most exhausted moments of ministry, my voice cracks during the benediction because I am done.  I can barely utter another word, much less a holy word and I think that means that I need someone to give me a benediction too.

Yesterday our preaching group did something that worked wonders for our ability to preach/breathe/keep going.  We spent the afternoon at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center outside Austin, TX.  Because sometimes we need someone to give us a blessing.

Sometimes we need beauty.  Flowers and trees are among God’s best benedictions.

Images from the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center outside Austin.