The Big "O"

I watched an entire episode of Oprah this afternoon.

I realize this is fairly typical white-middle-class-woman behavior. But I have been an ardent anti-Oprah-ist for years. Yet good critics know what they are criticizing, so watching an entire episode isn’t really a softening of my stance against avoidance of all things Oprah, right?

Really I watched because I was intrigued. Yes, she hooked me. The show was with some business/life coach…famous…Mark somebody? Maybe? Anyway Oprah had seen a statistic published by CareerBuilder.com that 84% of people are unhappy with their jobs. My first question is, if the survey was done on CareerBuilder.com, isn’t that kind of a self selecting population? Wouldn’t we expect those who are cruising job websites to report dissatisfaction with their work? But such questions do not trouble Oprah. Instead it provided a flashy statistic to get this Marcus somebody on her show.

She and 30 other women took Marcus’ eight session “change your life” workshop to learn how to become happy(ier) in their jobs. Of course four particularly miserable women were profiled through video shorts and given private coaching so they could return to the show and reveal how their lives had changed.

(Forgive the slightly cynical nature of the report. Strict anti-Oprah-ism is hard to filter.)

The major lesson of his workshops, of the episode? Do what you do well. Play to your strengths. Focus on what gives you energy. Use your gifts.

What hooked me about the episode is that this problem, focusing on my strengths instead of my weaknesses is exactly the task that is before me at work. It is the shift I want to accomplish, or at least I want to work to improve the balance between strengths and weaknesses. It is something I have been convinced I need to do for over a year now, I am just not completely sure how to get it done.

Now that I have the full range of pastoral duties on my plate (being the only full-time staff member around), I am becoming ever more aware that some things I do well and some things I don’t. There are parts of my job that are always a huge chore for me, which I dread, which make the whole enterprise more difficult. Unfortunately the time and energy I spend dreading the things at which I am weak pushes against the amount of time I have to do what I do well. I didn’t really need Marcus to tell me that.

I wonder if in the eight week session he talks about how to make the structural changes necessary to fix this strengths/weaknesses problem. Especially when there are no other staff members to pick up the work, but rather lay leadership that must be recruited and nurtured.
Oprah did make the whole life coaching session available to me, to ME, on her website for FREE! But I don’t think I can watch it, I can’t add to her “click total” for the week. I am sure there is a link to Marcus’ book though, complete with the big “O” on the front cover.

One interesting thing about the episode was the way Marcus and Oprah danced around religious language. They said everyone had been given gifts to use, natural strengths that we should use and enhance, this is the way to happiness. (Spiritual gifts given by the God who made us, I say). Also we each have a calling in the world, they said, and we need to find and pursue that calling in order to find fulfillment. Oprah even mentioned paying attention to “God or the divine or the universe or whatever” to help you figure out what your strengths are.

So thanks, Oprah, for the push. I am going to keep working on giving away the parts of my job at which I stink. One other question: How do you get away with having the last half hour of your show involve 1min 45 sec segments followed by 2min 30 sec commercial breaks? I was running on the treadmill while I watched, so I know what you were doing! I guess that’s what happens when you build a kingdom on getting people to buy stuff.

Whoops, guess the anti-Oprah-ism is back. I wont’ be watching tomorrow.

Nashville

I'm at the Methodist Vatican and wondering about:

1. Why are there leather recliners and a leather couch in the Women's bathroom at GBHEM?

2. What will it take to change the conversation about young clergy/candidates in Kansas West. Holy Smokes we are behind the curve. A few people might be sorry they sent me here.

3. How many of the people who are typing on computers right now in this room are actually paying attention to the meeting? (free wi-fi, what a danger.)

4. Of all the thing toward which I feel like I can apply my energy (church and conference) what should I actually get started on?

5. Why didn't I choose to walk to Starbucks on our half hour break so that I could be drinking a latte RIGHT NOW!

6. Who can I talk to who will help me sort out my goals and priorities in ministry. I need help sorting through the morass right now.

7. How many youth can we get on a bus to head to exploration 2009? And who else should go with us?

8. What is it that my church most needs right now? What does it need from me? What can I most faithfully offer? And this leads me right back to #6.

9. Where should I eat dinner tonight?

Protesting

I have a new plan.
When I first saw the coverage my instinct was to picket. But after yesterday’s news reports that the church members got into a shouting match with Obama supporters who came out to protest, I believe an approach without face to face contact would be better.

Wichita, long the safe-haven for religious nuts, has the infamous honor of once again supporting a lying, blasphemous, anti-American preacher who calls himself Christian. Whew! That’s strong language, but look what Mark Holick did. http://www.ksn.com/news/local/34487444.html


Normally I would say, let crazy people be crazy. But in this instance I am concerned because in October I had three, count ‘em, three, conversations with well-intentioned, kind people who told me
1. Obama is a Muslim.
2. Obama’s campaign funding came from Arab terrorists
3. Obama’s campaign funding came from China.

I am not making this up.

So I worry that Holick’s craziness has traction or at least allure for people outside of his church.

Therefore I would like to cover his lawn with yard signs that say,
“Though shalt not bear false witness” Exodus 20:16

Disagreeing with someone’s politics is one thing. I do not expect the whole world to be happy that Barack Obama is the 44th president of the USA. But spreading incendiary lies that are meant to stoke religious fervor is quite another. I have no idea what Holick suggests his members do about the situation (I shudder to think about his sermon) but considering we have seen medical doctors shot in this city…
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9400E5DB1E3CF935A15750C0A962958260 I believe the marquee lies are no small thing.

I do see that my plan is a bit undersized, probably ineffective, but at least it would be doing something. Want to help?

Leadership

I get a lot of leadership training. Maybe too much. At times I feel like a football player who has too many plays in the playbook and not nearly enough time on the field. Because of all my leadership training and reading I find myself thinking about “leadership” frequently. I do get confused sometimes if I am being loyal to business/organizational culture or if I am being true to the gospel. Am I learning how to effectively serve God or how to effectively serve the bureaucracy?

Either way I am slowly forming a picture of what I consider to be “good leadership” and becoming better equipped to evaluate my own.

Last night I saw two excellent examples of what I consider to be good leadership. First: John McCain’s concession speech. Gracious is the only word to describe it. He left me thinking that he will be willing to work with President Obama. I found McCain’s speech to be of a completely different tone than Hillary’s at the convention. She seemed to be putting on a good face but was really conflicted inside if not choking back bitterness over the loss.

I thought it especially poignant that McCain took so much time to comment on the historical nature of the election and how it was a symbol of old hatreds being cast aside. He spoke about it longer than Obama did. That seemed fitting to me. McCain also seemed genuinely upset when his supporters booed at the mention of Obama’s name showing his disinterest in any “hate and fear” politics and reminding us all that even the biggest ideological opponents are still human beings worthy of respect.

McCain said that he had served America since he was 17 years old and every single day he considered it a privilege and a blessing. Considering his story that is one hell of a statement. He showed last night that a strong democracy and the will of the people are more important to him than his personal ambitions. That reveals character. John McCain is the kind of leader I want in the U.S. Senate.

Then President-elect Obama took his turn. And instead of gloating or shouting or even appearing gleeful in his victory, he was as calm and stable and taciturn as ever. He talked again about listening seriously to those that disagree with him and I believe he will. I believe it will be a completely different atmosphere in the White House starting in January. And the more Obama invokes the memory of Lincoln, the more I believe he realizes it is his job to heal and bring unity. Most presidents elect make this promise and I realize that Obama has a great deal to learn about the job before him. But his commitment to keep rivals and opponents inside his sphere of influence seems an awfully good place to start. That shows he is not easily threatened. What an important change.

Instead of celebrating last night and basking in his own history making glory, Obama called us as a country to get to work on the problems ahead. I don’t know if you noticed but the man barely smiled last night in front of the huge crowd. Maybe it was in part exhaustion but he was not gloating last night. He’s got a job to do and he realizes it is the most serious one of his whole life.

I’m sure there is more to say but this entry is long enough. Two strong, committed, healthy leaders. That’s what I saw last night. No bluster, no façade, no puffed up ego. Just two men sold out on their own vision of this country and what it means to serve in its government. That inspires me to leadership in my own life. That’s how effective leadership works, it breeds more effective leaders.

Yes we can.

ouch!

I almost broke my toe on Friday afternoon (x-rays confirm it is just a nasty sprain). I wish it had been the result of some high-adventure exploit, come during a stunning athletic victory or involved the saving of small children. But no, I was organizing the garage. While carrying a box of birdseed I tripped (on what?) and fell to the ground. En route one sandal flew off and two toes made contact with the top of my foot. I am pretty sure that’s not supposed to happen, anatomically speaking. Note to self: the fancy toe-guard rubber on Keens does not work if shoe is removed from foot.

An injured toe is no big deal, as several church members reminded me in recounting their own stories of broken digits on Sunday. I don’t even mind limping around, that much. I realize my body will heal on its own. What I am not looking forward to is three to six weeks without running. The pinkie toe is such a small body part it seems unreasonable that its injury would disrupt an activity that benefits every other part of my body. Hopefully I will be able to cycle (or go to spin class more likely) once I can put a shoe on.

Right now, a little more than 48 hours later, I am full of restless energy and really wanting to go for a run. Reading my latest RUNNERS WORLD magazine cover to cover this afternoon did little for my ability to sit still and wait to heal. Surprise, I know. For the record, I expect no sympathy on the “I can’t run” front either. One church member told me, “I’ve not run for six weeks straight lots of times.” The fact that she probably hasn’t run six times in her adult life made the quip funny but not comforting.

Last Tuesday I was with a group of clergy and we were asked what distracted us from ministry. Not distracted as in, “I can’t get my work done because…” but distracted like “I remember there is something more to me than my pastoral responsibilities.” My first answer was exercise, I make it a central part of my day 5 times a week. Those are the moments where I am not necessarily a pastor, only a slow but committed runner or cyclist.

Oh forget it. No sense explaining to you what running/cycling means to me. Just know that it means a lot. And I can’t do it for awhile. And that’s disruptive to my equilibrium.

step, clunk, step, clunk, step, clunk, step....here I go.

pReaching

Matthew 22:1-14 revisited in today's sermon

Jesus said the Kingdom of God is like a dinner party, here is one of the stories he told about that party, more or less.

He said the kingdom of God is like if the President of the United States decided to throw a wedding banquet for his daughter, right here in Wichita, in the middle of the country, in Wichita at the Hyatt hotel downtown. The President, or rather his people, sent out invitations to guests well in advance but on the day of the wedding, just to be extra nice, he instructed white house staffers to telephone the guests with a gentle reminder that the party would begin promptly at 7pm. There were plenty of important people on that list, city officials, religious mukity-mucks, plenty of pastors who normally never turn down free food, wealthy business people, the who’s-who of Wichita, they were all expected to attend and Bonnie Bing was prepared to cover it all on the Eagle’s society page. Surprisingly though the people who had been invited refused to come.

When the President got word of this, he sent out a fleet of secret service agents in big black Suburbans to call on these people’s homes and tell them, “look the president has everything prepared, the Hyatt is ours for the night, his personal chef from Washington has been flown in, the Wichita symphony will be playing the dinner music, there is an open bar!” But the guests refused to come. One said she really needed to tackle her e-mail inbox, another said he couldn’t think of missing the KU game on tv, others, well they were plain nasty and they tasered the secret service agents before they could even finish the invitation.

This was a bad situation for the city of Wichita. But the banquet was ready so the President told his chief of staff to go out on the streets, right in front of the Hyatt and start pulling people in to come eat. And that’s what the staffers did. They walked over to Gander Mountain and grabbed all the guys buying new fishing tackle. They went to the century two Expo Hall and brought in all the people setting up for the car show. They scooted over to the main library branch and rounded up the homeless who hang out there during the day. They went down to the river bike path and pulled in the joggers and cyclists for the meal. It was a big party so they had to fan out all over downtown to fill the tables, getting drug dealers and prostitutes off of Broadway and lawyers who working late into the night in their offices, they even pulled construction workers off the job as they working on the new arena.

It was a crazy scene but the tables were packed and the party was in full swing, just like the President wanted. As he roamed the party, pleased with all the fun everyone was having, he noticed one guy who refused to sit down and eat, in fact he hadn’t even taken off his coat and just stood against the wall. When the president asked him why he refused to actually join the party now that he was here, he had no answer to give. So the president had the man driven to Oklahoma and he was never heard from again.

Many are invited but not everyone RSVP's.

Grrrrrrritch.

I started a blog this morning about how awful my mood was, about how I woke up feeling so groggy and out of sorts. After two paragraphs it sounded suspiciously like whining. I am not a whiner. I erased. I filtered. That’s better for us all.

I seem to always have this sort of work “hangover” after a Monday night Trustee meeting. What is it about Trustee’s business that is so draining? Oh, yes. I don’t care. Oh, that’s harsh. What I mean is if you were to ask me what is most important, most meaningful, most pressing of my time and energy, I would put the Trustee’s agenda on the bottom of the list, just above keeping my files organized. Last night at our meeting we talked about: the parking lot cracks and new striping (you can’t even see where the parking stalls are anymore); bundling the telephone and internet; a laptop purchase; certain leaks in the ceiling; switching the trash service; options for snow removal…

You were bored reading that list, were you not? I had to sit through the 90 minute meeting.
I’m not saying that all such matters are unimportant, woe to the church that neglects them. I realize that the care we take of our building is a key part of our hospitality to guests. I want my house clean when people come over for dinner. I want the church in great shape when members and friends stop by. I just don’t want to deal with it the minutiae of it all. (at work I mean, I do clean my own house!) I want others with the spiritual gift of building maintenance to sit in on those meetings and take care of the decisions and leave me, pastorally, out of it.

It is all part of the struggle that is continually before me: How can I spend my time doing the things that I am best at and hand off responsibility of the rest to those who can excel in areas where I do not? That’s what makes for team, right? That’s what ensures that the pastor does not have control and responsibility for everything. That’s what makes for a healthier church. It seems so clear when I talk about it in theory. And so murky when I think about actually extricating myself from Trustee meetings.

On Tuesday morning I see again the great size of the gap between what could be and what is. I realize it’s up to me to make the changes, no one else will “fix” my work flow or job responsibilities for me. Though I’m not sure what a path to different functioning looks like. Guess I’ll pray about that one. Seems a pastoral kind of thing to do.

a moment of care

Rather than cry in front of me, he chose to walk out. Was that a failure of pastoral care? I’m not sure. Whatever he came looking for…well I doubt he knew just what he came looking for, stopping by the office out of the blue, launching into his story after the briefest of hellos. Somewhere in his emotional turmoil he knew that church can be a safe place. He knew that when you are sideways with grief over losing a friend in a nasty accident, church should be one place you can come and feel whatever it is you are feeling.

Except when it came to actually feeling it--sitting in front of me and saying out loud how he didn’t understand such horrible things, seeing my open, waiting face-- it was all too much. His eyes filled up with tears. His words were shut-down by sadness. I said, “It really hurts to lose a friend like that.” And the truth of it was so real that sitting still was no longer an option. So out the door he went, chased away by the strength of his own emotions. My voice trailed after him, "Thanks for coming by...I'll be thinking of you." Maybe he didn’t want to break down at all, let alone in front of me. It probably had nothing to do with me, it usually doesn’t.

“I’m comfortable with your pain." That's a phrase I’ve learned from family systems coaching. Easy to say. Hard to do. Even harder to feel as true. Especially when the whoosh of air from his escape still lingers in my office.

AACK!

This morning I missed an appointment. Missed, as in: I forgot completely to show up and got a call fifteen minutes after the scheduled start time to see if I was okay. In itself this is not a horrible thing. I manage to screw up my schedule like this once, maybe twice, a year. It happens.

Unfortunately the meeting I missed was my yearly supervisory conversation with my District Superintendent. I spaced out my annual review with my boss.

Whoops.

She was gracious and allowed me to show up 30 minutes late though I am sure it stressed her schedule for the rest of the day. I was very apologetic. She was very gracious. I am thankful.

I had been having anxiety dreams most of the weekend, all couched in the Sunday morning format (I can't get things together for church, I'm running around the building looking for my sermon notes, I keep getting interrupted in the service by announcements so I can't get started preaching, the congregation feels things have gone too long and gets up to leave, etc.) Again, this in itself is not unusual, the dreams along with killer Sunday morning indigestion are a regular part of the pressures of preaching. Perhaps, though, my dreams were warning me of this morning, not yesterday. I was not paying attention.

Starting the day with such a colossal screw-up has left me feeling hazy. As the ripples in a pond remind you of the falling rock, things inside are not quite smooth.

Eat, run, sleep, reset. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Re-Launch

I wonder if I am a blogger. This afternoon I was spending my requisite (i.e. too much) time surfing other peoples blogs and felt again the pull to blog more regularly. My motivation is to be a better writer. And I realize the only way to improve as a writer is to, rather obviously, write. I could “journal.” That’s a Christian kind of thing to do. It’s also very “artist way” is it not? I suppose there is value in writing pages and pages and pages that no one but I will ever read. But I have always found myself irritatingly narcissistic when I write for my eyes only.

Of course there is no guarantee that anyone will read my blog. Especially if I don’t spread it around that I am writing again. I imagine only those desperately bored souls who return to check a blog eight months dormant will be the lucky few to see my posts. I suppose as a preacher it is simply easier for me to write presuming an audience, however small.

Those are the re-launch paragraphs. Take them for what you will. I do realize my ambivalence might foreshadow the life span of this commitment to the blog-o-sphere. And that the previous sentence shows I need an editor.

For today: Pastor as parent.

I was in clergy coaching group on Tuesday and somehow the conversation turned toward the parental. In the midst of a comment I was making I said, off-handedly, “though I’m not a parent so I don’t exactly know.” I didn’t mean it disparagingly, I was only stating the obvious fact that I was the only non-parent in the room. But in a flash several colleagues were reassuring me that I had plenty of parental knowledge, despite the glaring lack of children. One told me that caring for my dog was the same, instinctually, as caring for a child. He has never met my incredibly low-maintenance pet. Another almost whispered to me, “you’re the momma of the church.”

I looked askance. We moved on.

Over lunch I asked him, “Do you consider yourself the daddy of the church?”

“Most definitely” he said. “It’s a natural part of the way people relate to the pastor.”

“Oh.”

Do I have mothering as a part of my pastoral identity? I’m uncertain. The maker of the comment is a grandfather several times over. He has had “father” as a part of his identity for longer than I have been alive. I realize he is playing into a long Christian tradition to see priest as “father” or even the head of the monastery as “father” or “mother” or “abba/amma” But I can’t think of a single person I “mother” in my church. Or anyone I would want to.

Perhaps the problem is that to me “mothering” implies coddling. I don’t coddle. I would my child, that’s appropriate. I won’t coddle adults. Plus there is a tremendous power differential implied in the parent/child relationship. I want to empower, not parent.

Nope, won’t work. Can’t do it. Woodland, you’re going to have to find another mother. Might I suggest God.