A Church for Starving Artists

Most people in the world don’t care what’s happening in Institutional Church Mid-Council Ministry. 

And yet I will be spending the next couple days of my life with people who do this kind of work for a living.  It’s what I do for a living too.

I’m leaving the event early so I can be home Sunday for World Communion Sunday – a holy day that – again – most people in the world do not care about or know about.

We like to think that what we do and what we know is extremely important.  Good for us.

The truth is that what I do for work – if I’m doing it right – ensures that hurricane victims get showers and medical treatment, that people whose lives resembling shame storms find grace and peace, that children grow up knowing they are treasured beyond all measure, that adults find forgiveness and purpose, that homeless people find shelter, that broken people are healed, that bullies are held accountable and still loved, that enemies are reconciled, that hungry people are fed, that desperate parents are comforted, that the grieving find hope.

My job – if I’m doing it right – opens doors and makes the way clear.  My job – if I’m doing it right – calls people out when they conflate their own will with God’s will.  My job – if I’m doing it right – connects people in accordance with God’s will.  My job – if I’m doing it right – helps people make God happy.

It sounds really meaningless to most people, but – when I’m doing it right – my work involves stuff that matters.  I’ll be back here Monday.  Have a lovely weekend.

Image of a yellow hibiscus from my little balcony.

“The cross tells us that all of you beloved ones who have kept your secret can look at the cross and remember that we see in Jesus’ own broken body that even God knows what it is like to have no one listen.”   Shannon Kershner

Shannon Kershner’s sermon from Sunday, September 30 is a blessing and a balm.  Sustained applause (applause!) at the end says it all.

Sermon audio: http://bit.ly/2P3ltqe
Print: http://bit.ly/2P4beC7

[Note: Yesterday was a wonderful but especially long work day and you’d think that would result in a deliciously hard night’s sleep.  Nope.  Too tired to write a new post but too awake to rest. So in the wee hours, I listened to this wonderful sermon.  My soul is full.  I hope your soul might be fed too.]

Image from Starworks Glass in Star, NC – one of the wonderful places I visited Monday.  Sometimes creating a fiery sermon is akin to blowing glass.

In spite of what Ron Dreher wrote in The American Conservative last week, white men are not the enemy.  I’ve written about Straight White Men as recently as last week, but – again – they are not the enemy.

The enemy is a culture that considers assault against women, LGBTQIA people, and people of color to be less heinous than assault against Straight White Men.

Here are some ways that Straight White Men (and really anybody who aspires to be a good human) can help shift the culture.  [Special note for followers of Jesus:  it’s not merely about “what Jesus would do” but also “what Jesus would be.”]

1. Pay attention out there.
2. If you notice a woman being harassed by a man, step in and stay with her until she is safe.  At a party.  On a bus.  Waiting for a bus. Standing in line at the movie theater.  In church. Anywhere.
3. If you hear somebody scream for help, please check it out.
4. If you notice a woman who is too drunk to consent to anything, help her find a friend to take her home.
5. Do not – I repeat – do not attempt to patronize any woman.  Do not assume you can save her day.  Ask. Her.  “Do you need help?”
6. If she reports that someone is bothering her, believe her.
7. Remember that she probably doesn’t know you.  Do not offer to drive her home or walk her home.  For the love of God.
8. Call her a Lyft to drive her to her house.  And pay for it yourself.
9. If you drank too much, did something stupid, said something stupid to a woman (or any human) apologize as soon as possible.  And don’t do that again.
10. If you drank too much, did something stupid, said something stupid decades ago to a woman (or any human) you can still apologize.  It’s never too late.  Maybe she doesn’t even remember what you are talking about but if you repent, an angel will get her wings.

Bonus: Teach yourself, your sons, your friends that Women Are Not Things Created for Your Pleasure and Entertainment.  Women were created – like you and all humans – in the image of God.  What we do to other people, we are doing to God.

Thanks and have a good week.

Image of angel wing tattoos. 

Calls reporting sexual assault spiked 147% on Thursday, September 27 according to RAINN – the largest sexual assault hotline in the United States.  Counselors, therapists, and clergywomen like me received phone calls, texts, and direct messages from women all over the country.  As women were listening to Christine Blasey Ford, they not only relived their own assaults but they were emboldened to report their own.

I know this firsthand.  Yesterday I made a call to report mine.

My assailant was someone I had been in a relationship with which is why I never reported it.  Who would have believed me?  I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.  We had recently broken up and he’d wanted to continue being friends.  But one night he was angry and wanted to teach me a lesson.  Seriously, that’s what he said.

I’m honestly grateful to be able to type these words openly.  I feel okay about it. Strong even.  Secrets have enormous power to chip away at our spirits if left sitting there in the dark and I’ve been working on shedding some light  for a while now.

I’m inspired by one woman’s attempt to prevent her assailant from becoming a Supreme Court Justice.  Maybe he’ll indeed be confirmed but at least she has spoken her truth.

Those of us with such experiences know some things about men who assault women:

• They can be charming and “such good guys.”
• Being smart and drinking too much are not mutually exclusive.
• Just because a long list of women can vouch for them, it doesn’t mean they never assaulted others.

It’s possible that Dr. Ford’s assault happened on July 1, 1982.  Mine was September 18, 1983.

#BraveryIsContagious

The nation now tunes in to hear a private citizen – a woman who has sacrificed her privacy and safety in hopes of doing her civic duty, according to the woman herself.  We don’t know this woman, except that we all know her.  She is allegedly one of the millions of women who have been sexually assaulted in this country.  Some assaults involves rape and some do not, but all assaults involve an assertion of power.

Slate Magazine recently published this article about Judge Kavanaugh’s compassion for women.  Like many of us, he has deep care for women he knows.  He seems to care less about women he doesn’t know.  This is somewhat natural really.

And yet the humanity of each person – those we know and those we do not know – deserve honor.  Many of us believe that people are created in the image of God and if for no other reason, we are called to care for women we know and for women we do not know.

We are called to treat all people as Children of God – whether they are up for a life term on the Supreme Court or teenagers at a high school party.  The deep truth is that more women and men than we can possibly imagine have been sexually assaulted in this country and in every country.

Image from the beginning of the testimony of Christine Blasey Ford before the Senate Judiciary Committee on September 27, 2018.

I hear the Carolina Panthers have an impressive ground game.

HH and I joke that – although I told him on our first date that I was a big sports fan – I am really just a college basketball fan.  Actually, I am an ACC college basketball fan.  Actually I am a Tarheels fan.  Whatever.

I need to brush up on my Carolina Panthers fluency now that I live in Charlotte, but I do know that Efe Obada had an amazing game last weekend against Cincinnati.

Of course, this makes me think of church.  Congregations need a stronger ground game these days.  For generations, we have excelled at the Hail Mary in desperate times.  The Church rises to the occasion in times of crisis – floods, fires, pastoral emergencies.  But what makes a Church strong every day is its ground game:

• Is there a culture of deep hospitality?  Don’t point people towards the coffee/bathrooms/nursery. Walk them to their destination. Use real half and half when serving coffee.
• Is there a culture of relationship-building? Instead of inviting people to “come to church” ask people about their lives.  And don’t ask in order to scheme ways to lure people into the congregation.  Don’t be fake.  This is not a transaction.
• Is there a culture of genuine care?  When we ask, “How are you this morning?” listen to the answers.  Remember that the last time you saw that child, she was trying out for soccer.  How did that go?  Remember when someone mentions that his father is sick or her job is in transition.  Follow up.  Notice.  Ask “How can I pray for you?” and then do it.  Ask “Can I take you out to lunch this week?” and then do it.
• Is there a culture of excellent communication? Is our “prayer chain” merely a tool for sharing gossipy news or is it a way to deploy the Powers?  Is information conveyed in multiple ways?  Is it easy to find out opportunities/needs?
• Is there a culture of safety?  Can I share my $^@# and not be shunned?  Can I share my deep sorrow or my enormous joy and experience solidarity?  Can I fail here?  (I thought a pumpkin pie bake-off would be such a good idea.)

How’s our ground game?  It’s one thing for a team to throw those long passes, but it’s another to successfully get the ball down the field surrounded by a team of both offensive and defensive players who make that possible.

Image of Carolina Panthers defensive end Efe Obada whose life story is extraordinary.  He’s one of those Miracle People I wrote about yesterday. Last weekend, in his first NFL game, he was awarded the game ball after a 10-yard sack, another quarterback hit and an interception.

Have you ever met someone whose childhood story is so chilling that you’ve wondered how they get their shoes on in the morning? And yet they have grown up to rise out of what most people would call ashes?

I know real life people who are Phoenix-like wonders but their stories are their stories.  A fictional character whose story I can share is Ruth Langmore on the Netflix series Ozark (which is great by the way.)  Ruth is played by the actor Julia Garner who should win all the awards.

Ruth dropped out of high school in the 10th grade and – at the age of 19 – she mothers her nephews and – occasionally – her own father in a small compound of shacks and trailers in rural Missouri.  There are suggestions that she is a victim of incest.  She is not a stranger to crime.

Ruth is scrappy and brave.  She manages a strip club and does other assorted jobs for Jason Bateman’s character.  And in the thick of this life, she has dreams: dreams that one her her nephews will go to college, dreams that she might live in a real house some day.  She is a miracle.

The miracle is that – on most days at least – she wants to live.  The miracle is that – on most days – she has hope that something good will happen.  The miracle is that she is resilient beyond anyone’s expectation.  The miracle is that she stands up for herself in spite of being told over and over again that she’ll never be anything more than a poor, uneducated Langmore.

It’s important to notice these miracle people.  It’s important to stand with them and offer encouragement and opportunities.

There are children and teenagers and young adults all around us whose good days are worse than anything we have experienced on our worst days, and so it’s a blessing to befriend people like Ruth Langmore.

If we could be inspired by a fictional character, imagine how inspiring a relationship with a real-life miracle person could be.

Image of Julia Garner as Ruth Langmore in Ozark.

We white people have so much work to do. If you talk more about race now than before, that’s good, but the work continues and it’s the responsibility of white people to educate ourselves about systemic racism and our own participation in white supremacy.  From 6-16-18 Opening sermon at the 223 General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church USA

Hard work is highly valued in this country and many of us would say that we worked hard to get where we are. Some of us worked our way through college or started at the bottom of our place of employment.  Some of us didn’t have wealthy parents or even middle class parents who could help provide some of the extras in life: music lessons, vacations, braces.

There is a deep truth that some of us miss, however. The undeniable truth is that it has been intrinsically harder for some people than for other people in this country.  Those of us with Caucasian roots – no matter how hard we have worked – started ahead of the pack because of the color of our skin.

White skin has offered an advantage even in the poorest, hardest working parts of our nation.  The work that we with white skin have work to do involves understanding what this has historically meant in the past and what it means today.

But we are really busy.  As Yuval Noah Harari wrote:

Most of us can’t afford the luxury of investigating because we have more pressings things to do:  we have to go to work, take care of the kids, or look after elderly parents.  Unfortunately history does not give discounts.  If the future of humanity is decided in your absence, because you are too busy feeding and clothing your kids, you and they will not be exempt from the consequences.  This is unfair, but who said history was fair?

So what does it mean that “we White People have work to do” if we don’t have the time or energy to be historians or sociologists?

• It means we need to listen to People of Color – without needing to refute and argue what they share about their experiences.  Just listen and try to understand.
• It means we need to be more curious about our own history and theirs.  What do we know about the Jim Crow laws?  What do we know about Civil Rights History in this country?  Part of being good citizens is to be fluent in our own history.
• It means telling the truth and allowing others to tell the truth even when the truth is upsetting and unsettling.

While this might sound heavy for a Monday morning, the Spirit spoke to me this weekend so I need to say something about my own need to do the work.  Good morning.

Image source.

Sometimes I say – and not in whispered tones – “I hope they don’t pick another straight white man” when I’m referring to pastor nominating committees or political races.  As the mother of two SWM, the sister of two SWM, the spouse of one SWM and the friend of many SWM, it’s not that I dislike or distrust all SWM.  It’s just that sometimes SWM are not the leaders we need for a given situation or time.

If organizations and communities want to change, sometimes a SWM is not the one to do it – except when they are the only one who can do it.

The truth is that not every straight white man believes that girls and women were created to be at their disposal.  The truth is that not all single white men drunkenly assaulted women in high school or college. The truth is that not every straight white man believes that they are entitled to everything they want.  The truth is that many of our institutions are comprised of people who are not straight white men and yet those people are the ones perpetuating the selection of straight white men as the only ones who can lead them.

I treasure congregations who take a chance on calling leaders who don’t look like them, think like them, sound like them.  This is the future, my friends, for many of our congregations if they want to thrive.

This weekend, a predominantly white congregation in my Presbytery installs a man of color to be their pastor because their neighborhood is changing and the world is changing around and beyond them.  They didn’t intentionally seek a person of color but they listened when God pointed them to this pastor.  They trust God and take their role as disciples more seriously than they trust the way they’ve always done things.  And this call is so real that you can feel the energy in the congregation.

The straight white men of that congregation helped make that happen.  Not all straight white men are racist nationalists.

Image from the play by Young Jean Lee. (2014)

My neighborhood is changing.  Actually it’s been “my neighborhood” for less than six months and I don’t have much stake in the changes except to say that I like being able to walk to the grocery store and assorted restaurants.  I’m told that my apartment was built on the site of an unused warehouse  and so I don’t have Gentrification Guilt.  Nobody had to move when my apartment building was constructed.

And then we have The Thirsty Beaver.

It’s been described to me as “A Middle Finger to Gentrification” and that seems to be true.  If you look at the image, you notice that new construction had to be erected around this little bar.  I haven’t been inside yet because 1) I’m probably not cool enough and 2) it would probably be frowned upon for me to be seen in this establishment.  (Note:  I am game to visit for anthropological reasons if you happen to be in Charlotte and  want to join me there.  For anthropological reasons.)

Bars are excellent evangelism venues and just last night, as I was doing my post-exercise “cool down” I met C and K from Mississippi and then I met J and J from eastern NC at a different establishment where neighbors gather.  I feel blessed to live in a neighborhood where few people are “from here” and so introductions are easy and dogs are especially welcomed.

What would we do to hang on to community?  The owners of The Thirsty Beaver turned down serious cash to keep their gathering place which meant that the new construction had to go around them.  Sometimes new construction enhances community.  It’s not an either/or.  It’s a both/and.

How does your church, your non-profit, or your for-profit build community?  People are craving authentic connections, and I’m grateful to those who resist the temptation to give up authentic community gathering spaces for money.  BUT – before you assume I am always in favor of keeping old structures for the sake of sentimentality and history, let’s ask ourselves:

• Is our community/church friendly to strangers and “new people”?
• Is our community/church making a positive impact in the neighborhood?

If not, maybe something new could do a better job.  In the meantime, who wants to check out The Thirsty Beaver with me to study what happens there?

Image source.