First Impressions Matter

So, CPE application time is coming up. During this long process of writing essays about my past or my family or my religious background, I came across the question “what are your initial impressions about Clinical Pastoral Education?” I guess I haven’t really thought about that before. Ideally, I think it would be awesome if my experience turned out to be a lot like the TV show Scrubs. Everyone would have quirks and dynamic relationships that everyone learned something from in every episode. That would be cool. I’m sure I will learn a lot, but I don’t think it will be like Scrubs.

CPE sounds like it will be an intensive experience. Initially, I am very intimidated by it and nervous about how well I will do. The thing about those types of immersion experiences is not necessarily how well I will do, but how will I learn from it? How will I understand how I interact with other peoples’ faith lives in critical and even noncritical situations? I have spent much time in the classroom which has provided me with a great number of resources and understandings about God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and how we participate and interact within our perceptions of these subjects both presently and throughout history. Writing a paper about a subject related to this and talking to someone about it is a little, if not very, different.

So I suppose my initial impression of CPE is that I will be challenged, pushed, taught, and exposed to a variety of experiences that will help me understand their point in life and mine. New experiences lie CPE can be intimidating and rewarding at the same time and I stand to gain much from this time in my seminary life. Now to make that statement into a paragraph or two…and maybe throw in a reference to the life lessons on Scrubs for a bonus!

Sacredness at the Dinner Table

Tonight my dad made the trip up from Cleveland to Chicago to spend the weekend with me.  As much as I love being here at seminary, there is a deep part of my heart that longs for home.  A few weeks ago when traveling with the best of LSTC's athletes to Lutherbowl held in Gettysburg, driving through Ohio without stopping at home made my heart raw.  So right now, as I write this, sitting on the couch beside me is my father while watching Captain America is the best thing in the whole world. 

Despite missing home, I also really love being here in Chicago.  This is my life now.  The people who share classes with me, share chapel with me, share God with me are now a part of my family, too.  Before my dad got here, I was a bit worried about what it would look like when those two worlds collided, if those two families could mesh.  I doubted seriously if my past and my present could meld into my future.

It is at times like these when I am glad that I cannot stomach tension and that I like to make things happen.  To ease my fear, I invited several friends over to meet my dad and have lasagna with us.  After a few moments of awkward hellos and where-are-you-from conversations, a natural hum fell over the dinner table.  At one end their was an avid debate about the role non-parish pastors play to bring people to the church, while at the other end I heard my father explain his love for all Cleveland sports teams (even despite LeBron James).  Some of my friends discussed ways that as Christians we can realistically advocate for safe oil drilling, while others looked at new pictures my father had brought of my niece and nephew. 

Of all the times that I have witnessed the Holy Spirit work at building communities, it never touches my soul as much as when I can see that work happening in the most intimate places in my life.  I am so glad that my dad came to Chicago, not only so I could see him, but so that I could bear witness to God creating community around the sacredness of my dinner table. 

Mysterious Words of Wisdom

As the midweek looms before me, amongst all of the papers and projects sometimes we can experience writers block, especially when your blogging. Originally my subject was going to be on the joys of being endorsed but the deepness of these late autumn evenings pondered within the confines of the Treehouse.

"Oh Wow, Oh Wow, Oh Wow!"

All Saints Sunday is lingering in many of our memories as we have gathered with church family or at our MIC congregations and celebrated the lives of those saints we hold dear. We have approached the altar and placed photographs, lighting candles and singing hymns that envelop those who still surround us, whose arms we faintly hold onto when in those times of solitary and sadness we really need to hear their voices, their laughter and their wisdom. 

The waves of life ebb, creeping onto and tickling the bareness of our toes pulling back into the vastness of the ocean, our eyes scanning the fading soft blues and purples of the horizon searching for a glimpse of slender transcendent ships-those ships which have carried our loved ones from this life into eternity. The tears clouding our vision until we can not see anymore and we wonder about the rest of their journey.

What happens when Our Creator gently and lovingly lowers His hands to our faces, brushing aside tears and closing our eyes to this world and whispers to the fullness of our souls "My child it is morning. Awaken to a new day, to the sweetness of the Valley, come take my hand and walk with me home." What happens when we lay our hands on a dying congregational member, asking Our Creator to open Heaven's doors and welcome another spirit within?

"Oh Wow, Oh Wow, Oh Wow!" What did those words mean? What rare beauty did this man behold as he made his transition? To say that perhaps we will never know is incorrect, for as children of the Most High there is a place for us, somewhere-out there.

"In My Father's House, there are many rooms if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am."

God's Peace.

Keeping in Touch

As with any schooling experience, my closest friends at the seminary are those who are in my class - who have been with me through orientation, Greek, and Systematic Theology since day one. And, since I'm on internship right now, that means my closest friends - my classmates - are also on internship. They're literally all over the world in places like Washington, Florida, the Republic of Georgia, Nebraska, rural Minnesota, and Kansas City. This makes having a social life difficult for all of us. I'm luckier than some, since I'm still living at the seminary and am able to be social with friends from other classes. At the same time, though, there's something to be said about being separated for twelve months from a group of people I've bonded with through most of my seminary journey. One of my closest friends from LSTC is many states away, and we try to keep in touch, mostly by texting one another or talking on the phone. His wife travels a lot for work, and so when she comes to Chicago, she stays with us. In fact, she's here now! Andrea and I always look forward to her visits because it gives us time to catch up with her and continue our close friendship throughout the year. We stay up late and talk about how the intership process is treating all of us - interns and spouses alike; we talk about how much fun we had our first two years at LSTC; and most of all we make plans for a spectacular senior year. Also, I stole her iPhone and Facetimed with her husband. That was a nice bonus.

Our traveling friend, on a recent visit to another LSTC intern!

It's amazing to stop and think about the friendships that arise out of this vocational quest that is seminary, and I am so glad to be blessed with fellow seminarians on the journey. Even during this year apart, the little contact we keep with one another is truly life-sustaining. My next goal is to figure out how to play board games via Skype. Once we get that going, the states between us all will be almost insignificant. Of course, Facetime and Skype can't compete with the anticipation of having my classmates return for our senior year. It's going to redefine the word, "epic."

Embracing the Questions

It is that point in the semester where everything is busy. Busy with papers, with reading, with translations. In the midst of the academic stress sits another big hurdle. First call paperwork. Those of us entering the Spring Assignment process have to have all of our forms in by December 1st. As the rush of the end of the semester wraps around me, I find it difficult to live in the tension between these two deadlines. How am I so much still a student, and yet somehow also almost a pastor and seeking a call? It is a complicated juxtaposition of emotions and demands.

Tonight, I had dinner with a group of friends. We have met for dinner every Sunday night since our first year. It began as a Greek study group, morphed into a Hebrew study group when we became middlers, and has now come back together to work through the Greek translations for those in advanced exegesis together or “parallel play” (other homework) for those of us who do not have Greek. Though the language and work change, the format remained the same: dinner, translation, and then frequently a glass of wine. All of it steeped in talking and laughter. It is a place where I know I am safe, where my questions are honored, whether they are “I have no idea what this Greek tense means” or “I have no idea where my life is headed.”

This deep and wonderful community is what seminary has given me. More than any language or exegetical tool, what I know I will take into my ministry is the knowledge that there are people who love me. Who believe in me, who value my thoughts, and who challenge those thoughts. Who will not let me settle to be anything less than who God has created me to be. Seminary is by nature an in-between time. As I sit in this time, I am grateful to do it with these people. With faculty who challenge me, with colleagues who question me, and with friends who believe in me. These are good questions to be asking.

Drumming Rhythms

Two days ago, I was persuaded by three of my other classmates to accompany them to an African Dance class offered at a community center nearby. They wanted me to observe the drumming to see if we could potentially recreate some of that experience at LSTC. I was happy to have the opportunity to get up and go someplace new away from the temptation of my computer and with my assignments inching ever closer to their deadlines (although I did manage to read some Church History).

I learned some new patterns and characteristics of drumming from the drummers, but among other observations, I saw that they did not go out of their way to force their hand upon the drum, but that the sound originated from the weight and angle of their hand. Put another way, they played the drumming by not hitting the drum. As a result, their sound was natural, their rhythm was steady, and they enticed the dancers and observers such as myself into a form of participation with their drumming style.

I believe worship is the same way. We can’t force our rhythm within worshipping otherwise we lose it. We just have to let the natural weight and angle of our experience produce the best sound possible. I have not been good at attending worships before LSTC unless I was participating in them. In college, I can count on two hands the number of times I attended church on Sunday when I didn’t have to be there for some reason. I don’t know if it’s the effect of a worship class or the fact that one of the main focuses of this place is to prepare leaders in worship but something has changed. I do not feel forced to hit the worship drum at LSTC, I feel compelled to participate in the worship beat.

Until next Friday!

P.S. I am sorry I haven't posted sooner, I am currently recovering from appendicitis under the loving care of my family and friends :)

Extroverts and Introverts

INTROVERT EXTROVERT

There seems to be a lot of buzz around me lately about whether people are introverts or extroverts. Many times, extroverts are defined as those people who like being around other people and introverts are the quiet ones who rarely speak.


As a self proclaimed introvert who actually loves people, I get incorrectly labeled all the time. So here's the deal... I'm going to educated you so you know what to do when you come across people like me. Being an introvert or an extrovert doesn't have anything to do with how much you like people. It's all about energy.

For me, though I love people, I have to come home at the end of the day and wind down. Everyone does this to some extent as we all need a balance of people time and "just me" time, but I find that I get exhausted around people. I am rarely one of the last people to leave a party, I rarely volunteer to be around people MORE than I have energy for, and I am almost always curled up with a book or playing a game on my computer or the xbox at the end of the day.


For the (few) extroverts on this campus (because pastors tend to be introverts despite their great love for people), they gain their energy from their time with others. And though I love my extroverts, I've come to realize the great gifts that come with introversion.

Instead of being the shy, walked over, quiet one, introverts can be amazing listeners, form deep relationships, enjoy "just me" time, and can reflect before speaking or acting. Yes, I might have to retreat to my office when I'm a pastor after church, but I can do amazing things, too.

All introverts, stand proud!!! (Then you can go retreat....)

 

[image from towerofpower.com.au where you can take a test to see if you are I or E!]