Hey Everybody Checkout the New Guy

    Monday morning, students, faculty, and staff gathered in our refectory, place of dining, with a spread of cookies, yesterday's leftover graduation treats, and some fresh brewed coffee.  "Who's gonna be the new president?"  A question many and I have asked for more than a year.  We sat waiting.  My slow clap to get things going was viewed as a sign of impatience and not the excitement I was going for, and while some joined in it ultimately fell short.  Luckily, we didn't wait much longer because one of the board members walked in and after finding the mic explained she was not going to hold out on the news any longer.  And then she said it, James Nieman was the next president of Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago.  We rose and clapped some of us whooping and hollering as he entered, I believe we would have stood if they told us any name, but I think just hearing the name and knowing the search was over and that a new presidency would soon begin just made me so joyous, I felt tears coming to my eyes.  Little did I know that this would not be the last time.
    Nieman came to the microphone seeming calm and happy but as he said his own title, President of the Lutheran School of Theology, he choked up.  A true human moment that flooded my own heart with promise and hope.  He seemed so real standing in front of me bearing his heart.  He spoke of the next step with so much excitement, the next step for LSTC starting to change his wording from you to us, not claiming to know all the needs of LSTC, but presenting himself as a seasoned veteran of leadership.  I was so excited that at the end of the whole affair that later when I shook his hand I was nervous that I still might start to cry.  So impressed and feeling that my seminary was passed into good hands I was full of joy.  I really have only two sadnesses in this whole affair.  First, that I will be in Austin, TX when Nieman arrives and I will miss experiencing him in his first year and all the excitement that comes with that.  The second came when President Nieman spoke to all that President Hougen is doing and had done for the seminary (Hougen has been the president almost the entire time I have been at LSTC).  We had an amazing leader in Hougen and as once again tears filled my eyes, as a gracious President Hougen made a motion for all to sit down at the anouncement of his name, I realized that we were also losing a great leader in our community.
    What a moment in LSTC history, my own history, and I believe we will soon see if it was for the ELCA, my vote is yes.  President Nieman talked about his discernment process and how his wife read him a prayer from Evening Prayer, I hope I have the right prayer, but even reading this prayer gives me peace about the decisions we make in life, whether it be the new president, which call to accept, where to do CPE, what seminary to go to, or where to go for dinner?  We always have someone with us and President Nieman reminded us all of that Monday morning.

O Lord,

Support us all the day long of this troubled life, until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes and the busy world is hushed, the fever of life is over and our work is done.

  Then in your mercy, grant us a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

The Southside: a Healing Place

Today, processing down E55th Street in Chicago, my voiced joined the voices of my brothers and sisters as we cried out for justice for the death of more than 300 children who have died on the Southside of Chicago between 2008 and today, and in memory of Trayvon Martin.

It is hard to write such figures, because the Southside is now my home. This community is my sanctuary from the pressures of exegesis papers and endorsement essays. This neighborhood has fed me with foods that I never ate before, music I never heard before, and prays with people from all around the world that without this place I never would have met.

A few months back I wrote a post on my personal blog where I talked about violence I saw upon moving to this community. A colleague (and now friend) who grew up here shared with me that too often good-intentioned people do a disservice to this community and only speak of the Southside's times of trial. There is tendency to perpetuate a negative stigma. Yes, there is darkness in this place, but part of my responsibility while living here is to show the light that shines that lives here.

The Southside of Chicago is filled with brave people who are doing their best everyday. It is the bravery of this community that we could gather together at LSTC, reading name after name for blocks at a time of lives who were lost too young. It is the bravery of this community that the people who marched were seminary students, spouses, and young children. It is the bravery of this community that today the people who assembled were a blend of PhD students with maintenance workers, lay with rostered, across multiple denominations and several ethnicity groups.

It is also this community which prompted the healing service held at LSTC in chapel this past Monday, where we acknowledged survivors of domestic and sexual assault. This justice is not limited to the seminary. LSTC is in the same community where week after week pastors preach from pulpits to heal the grief of lives lost, where people gather together to fight against hunger and poverty, and families nurture their children to be the future of our tomorrow.

It is not easy to name the hardships in our community, and it can be even harder to name a communities successes when it is most often associated with hardships. I will never censor myself from speaking out against the injustices of my community, whether it is the southside of Chicago, or a rich suburb in Cleveland. But today, as I remember the power of marching for peace in my community, I remember the advice of my colleague and friend. When I speak of injustice, I will also speak of the good work that is done in these places.

The gospel I hope to preach with my words and my actions is a gospel of reconciliation, building the bridge between rocky paths and smooth roads. Today the gospel that I witnessed is the gospel of the Southside of Chicago, a place that is not afraid to heal in a time when it is easy to remain in hurt.

A Reflection of Support to the City of Chardon

Last weekend found me in my hometown of Cleveland, Ohio, where I was able to spend a few days with my family. Monday morning, after the car was packed and my travel mug was filled with coffee, I heard on my car radio the devastating news that there had been a school shooting at a high school in Chardon.

Chardon is 3o minutes away from my hometown. When I was a teenager, I remember visiting Chardon's high school and watching as my sister's boyfriend acted in a performance of "Forever Plaid," a musical about a barbershop quartet. I remember eating a delicious burger at the Chardon diner. I have fond memories of Chardon.

Monday's six hour drive back from Cleveland to Chicago was daunting. I have friends that live in Chardon, have friends who are substitute teachers for Chardon, and not knowing who was hurt or safe was terrifying. I became increasingly frustrated that the further I drove from Cleveland the news reports became less and less about the students and more and more about whether or not we witnessed Jennifer Lopez's nipple at the Oscars.

I've made that drive back to Chicago quite a few times now, but it was never like that drive. Monday's drive was filled with thanksgiving that if this tragedy had to happen at a school near my home, it wasn't at a school where my mother, sister, or brother-in-law taught. When I finally heard from my last Chardon friend and realized that the people I care for are safe, I was flooded with a relief so strong that I am still staggering from the impact of it several days later. My heart remains conflicted that I am grateful my loved ones are safe when my community is grieving.

I'll never forget the day when my mother told me that they no longer only have fire and tornado drills at school - they now hold drills for what would happen if someone brought a gun to school. Chardon had such drills, and while I mourn with the rest of my home community for the lives lost I am exceedingly grateful that such drills kept this disaster from becoming anymore horrific then it already is. I am grateful for the ministry of those teachers.

90% of the time, seminary is exactly where I want to be. 90% of the time, living in Chicago feels like the greatest of blessings. Right now, though, while I hear from my bishop, synod, friends, and family about the steps that are being taken to honor the lives that were lost and offer support for the survivors I really wish I was home. I am reminded, though, that in moments like these we need to have well equipped leaders. My dear friend worked for the Celebration Lutheran Church in Chardon, and right now her former boss, a pastor, has a lot of work ahead of her. My bishop and my synod has a lot of work ahead of them. My community has a lot of work ahead of them, and what the world needs are healthy leaders who can stand strong in times of adversity.

We owe it to the people of our community who are working hard to move forward from a travesty to be the best leader we can be, to be living demonstrations of the most honest message of the Gospel of Christ. The people of Chardon, the students of that high school, the family and friends of the young students who died and were injured do not need another bleeding heart to feel sorry for them. They need to know that in God's eyes, and ours, their story and their healing takes priority over any wardrobe malfunction or movie awarded. They need to know that that we recognize their grief matters.

My prayers continue to the community of Chardon and all of their loved ones. May they feel God's grace and peace during this most trying of times.