Don’t flay the sheep.

Why Zora takes communion

My old denomination is currently in the middle of the “transition” from children not partaking of the Lord’s Supper to welcoming them at the Table.

In the PC(USA), children have been welcomed at the discretion of their parents for a good while now. But, I’m discovering that many parents aren’t sure what they “need” to tell their kids before they take communion. I’m talking with a group of parents and kids at my church this weekend to help them think about communion.
I won’t take too much time to get into the broader theology behind this. See here for some good links! (Hieronymous is my Dad, by the way…he says I have more web-traffic than he does, so if you’re inclined, give him a visit and share the love.)
But, here are my tiny little contributions to the discussion about this:

1. Honestly, how much do most adults know and understand about the theology behind the Lord’s Supper? Now, I’m not saying that churches are off the hook for trying to give their members some theological education, but does one really need to understand every little theological detail in order to be welcomed at the table? And, further, by offering a “class” for kids and parents, do we imply that the parents themselves don’t know enough about communion to teach their kids (and maybe not enough to partake themselves?) I want people to have an increasingly deeper understanding of the Supper, but that is a life-long process, even if you’ve been to seminary!
2. And here’s my strange, not-so-theological, biological argument (I know this won’t fly with many people…). When a woman is pregnant with a baby, that baby can often taste some of what the mother eats. I remember taking communion last year and realizing that my baby could taste, was being nourished, and, somehow, was already partaking. As a continuation of this, if a woman is breastfeeding (this is not meant as a jab at formula), something similar is going on. I think that’s a beautiful illustration of the role of a parent in raising a covenant child.
3. Then there’s developmental appropriateness. I think faith is about more than rational understanding of what we believe. It comes in stages that match up with where we are at each stage of our lives. An infant can’t articulate much. But if a baby knows that church is a place where she is loved and safe, that’s as good as an adult who can articulate an accurate understanding of the doctrine of the Trinity. A child reaching for the bread needs to have that desire affirmed.
4. And as a reward for those of you who made it this far through my semi-theological ramblings, a good story. At Erik’s home church, half the nursery empties out during when people go forward for communion. Parents scramble to get their kids. Last December, I was pacing in the back of that church with Zora. Jack, son of one of Erik’s high school buddies, ran by me on the way to get his little brother, yelling: “It’s time for the bread!” I wish adults did that.

All that said, Zora takes communion. (Erik and I had a little theological debate over this–we’re nerds like that.) In her life, there are really only two super-sweet things she’s allowed to eat: baby tylenol and bread soaked in grape juice.

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Charles Honey has the scoop

Charles Honey is one of the few reporters on religion who I think consistently gets it. (And he’d better: since he’s at the Grand Rapids Press, he’s got some heavy-duty religious critics in the area.) He always seems to do his research and take the time to figure out what’s actually going on.
And here’s a story that’s near and dear to my heart (partly because I love Meg, partly because it’s part of my own story). The PCUSA news feed picked it up. (As well they might: they are often the beneficiary of these denominational jumps by women!)
This summer, the CRCNA’s Synod (translation for Presbyterians: General Assembly) has the women’s ordination issue on it’s docket again. There’s a group organizing to witness to the need to truly and fully open all offices to women. I can’t be there (youth group trip). I wish I could go a represent those of us who left for other denominations.
But, I’ll be praying for the outcome. Even though I made the leap to the PC(USA), I still pray for a turn-around. Much as I would love to have Meg as a colleague, the CRCNA needs her. I hope they do everything possible to help her stay there, and to stop the flow of women like me from the CRCNA.

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I can be cranky because now I’m a Mom

Well, the readers have spoken. My Mother’s Day rant it is.

First, before anyone gets offended, I am exceedingly grateful to my own Mom, my fabulous grandmothers, my aunts, my great-grandma (who I had the privilege of knowing until junior high), my mother-in-law, and all sorts of other women in my life. Often, I forget to send them cards, but this is just because I’m unorganized. Oh, and also, if you go to my church, in spite of this rant, I would still encourage you to participate in the Youth Group Mother’s Day Carnation fundraiser. I know that’s inconsistent, but I’m a postmodern woman.
Even though I love my Mom, when it comes to Mother’s Day, and especially Mother’s Day and church, I get a little cranky.

Heidi, you nailed it. This is one of the holidays when my cranky-inner-Calvinist surfaces. You see, good old JC # 2 (John Calvin: Jesus Christ would be JC # 1) was none too keen on the way that holidays often invaded church. I’d say the whole uber-Calvinist frowning on the liturgical calendar thing was a little much. But the secular holidays are a different story. I’m not discriminating against mothers. Father’s Day, Fourth of July, Memorial Day, Labor Day, Superbowl Sunday (I give a little pass to Thanksgiving since we need to thank SOMEONE for the the semantics of the day to work correctly, and to MLK Day since that man was a preacher).

And a little nod to the day is one thing, but when everything is structured around the holiday, I find things a little odd. For one thing, Jesus did mention once or twice that God was our first priority. Sometimes the celebration of motherhood verges into the territory of “in praise of the perfect Mom.” And, honestly, after the near-neglectful state of my mothering yesterday (I just needed some down time…), I’m not sure I could hear that well. My guess is all Moms have days like this. And here’s where things get really uncomfortable: there are always, in a congregation, some people for whom the celebration of motherhood gets painful: loss, broken relationships, infertility, abuse, etc. Have you ever seen the Mother’s Day thing where the kids give carnations to “all the Moms out there” and there’s inevitably one or two women who get left out and wind up teary? (And the solution of “giving all the women” a flower never really did it for me. It was just weird when I wasn’t yet a Mom and I got a flower.
On top of all that, the consumerism of the day just gets to me: buy Mom stuff!! Or, better yet, just let Mom hit the sales on her own.

However, here’s one more disclaimer: since I joined a mainline denomination, I’m just a little more comfortable with Mother’s Day. In more conservative denominations, where there’s often some debate and discomfort around feminine imagery and language for God, there can be this odd disconnect between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. On Mother’s Day, there’s a focus on that fabulous (and impossible) woman in Proverbs 31. On Father’s Day, you get a good overdose of the God/Father metaphor. But I love, that in the new denomination, I’m hearing more and more of the God/Mother metaphor, and no one comes careening into the pastor’s office loaded for bear after this comparison.

So, go ahead and send your Mom a card, celebrate the day, and, of course, buy your carnations for the youth group fundraiser. BUT, don’t forget to keep God (not your Mom) at the center of your worship service, and be sensitive to the needs of the people in your congregation for whom motherhood if a painful or uncomfortable topic.

(Oh, and Erik: thanks for the silicon baking sheets. They are lovely.)

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I need to write a post…

OK, faithful readers. Not much posting going on, so let me know which of these interests you for an upcoming post. Vote in the comments, and I’ll write one of these up next week.

1. A few thoughts after spending two and a half days with my Presbyterian New Pastor’s group.
2. I’m trying to figure out how on earth to make confirmation a better process. The more I think about it, the more confused I get.
3. In an effort to be more hip, I’ve entered the world of facebook. What are m thoughts about this? (And, how many friends do I really have?)
4. Excuses about why I am so far behind on my own reading for my congregation’s “Year of the Bible”.
5. I’m long overdue for another entry in my “churches” series.
6. My rather cranky feelings about church and mother’s day (and I think I can be cranky about this now that I’m a mom…)

So, let me know what I should write about!

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Testing…

It turns out that Erik will be taking exams in November—but he thanks you for the prayers!

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How not to introduce your spouse to the new church…

About this time last year, my blogging was pretty quiet. I was in the midst of searching for a call, and I didn’t want to say a whole lot.

In a previous post, I started writing some of the things I would have written a year ago. And I promised this story: how not to introduce your spouse to the new community.

I was invited out to Geneva for dinner and a meeting with the APNC (non-Presbyterian translation: Associate Pastor Nominating Committee, aka “Search Committee”).

Now, I had no idea what to expect. I grew up and was trained in a denomination where Search Committees don’t have quite the “veil of secrecy” that Presbyterian PNC’s have. And, when a committee decided to offer you as a possibility for a call, the congregation wouldn’t necessarily vote for you: you had to preach first, be interviewed by the congregation, and sometimes wait several weeks before the congregation voted. Going out to have a meal with the committee didn’t necessarily mean you’d wind up living in the place.

Add to this my confusion about what to do with my spouse. The old denomination would routinely interview pastor’s wives alongside their husbands. But Erik is no pastor’s wife, and I had no idea how Presbyterians do this, or what to do with him.

But, I wanted him to see the town. I didn’t tell the APNC he was coming. I didn’t want them to feel obligated to invite him, since I wasn’t sure if that was the done thing, and I didn’t want them to feel bad that I’d left him on the streets of Geneva.
So, Erik and I trekked out to Geneva and I deposited him on the main drag with his laptop and a list of restaurants with wireless access. There was a Starbucks, so we figured he could probably just buy a cup of coffee and move in there.
Then I went on a tour and out for dinner with the APNC.

Next thing I didn’t know: the dinner interview was LONG. (But, good, obviously, since I eventually accepted a call…)And as it crept past 9 o.clock, I started to wonder how Erik was doing. And so, later, much later, that evening, Joyce, one of the APNC member’s wives, picked me up at the restaurant to bring me back to my car at church. (Oh, and side-note, remember that whole veil of secrecy thing? Well, Joyce was basically not allowed to TALK to me. Awkward ride. Especially since I now know that she’s about as gregarious as they come.) It being past 10:00, I wondered what Erik was doing.

Joyce gave me directions back to the tollway, and then I got in my car, pulled out of the parking lot, and called Erik. He was a few blocks away. It had been a quite a night. Turns out that Starbucks in the suburbs closes pretty early. It was getting cold. He wound up in a bar. Meanwhile, Joyce was following me to make sure I didn’t get lost. Crap, I thought, I can’t let her see me picking up this strange man wandering the streets. So, I told Erik to go to a side street and wait. When I turned, I thought I had lost Joyce. Erik jumped in the car, but around the corner from the other end of the block came Joyce. And, I guess I thought I’d better explain why I was picking up strange men in the middle of the night. She promised complete discretion.

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Good Sabbath

Back in September, I was trying to figure out how to “sabbath” with an infant. See, some of the (and I know this is a simplification) recommendations are just impractical, if not impossible, for a mom with a nursing baby. I’m always working! I can’t take a day away from it all just to focus on God. (And, come to think of it, neither can someone, male or female, with small kids. So, I’m starting to think that the over-simplified recommendations for taking a good sabbath are flawed…) I’d rather use the definition of “God-focused” for Sabbath than “family-focused”, but family obligations are an enormous part of honoring God.

This last Friday, on my weekly-day-off, I think I managed about an hour of really good sabbath.
After Zora and I made a quick trip to a nearby Starbucks to meet up with a guy who was selling a pack-n-play on craigslist, I realized that the weather was nicer than I’d thought and the stroller was in the back of the car. A good occasion to visit our favorite nearby patch of woods.

We went for a walk along the Fox River. Zora fell fast asleep (with one eye opened–she’s an attentive baby!), and I plugged into my iPod for some worship assistance from the monks of Keur Moussa in Senegal. As they sang the Nicene Creed, we came around the corner into a place where a stream was singing, and new leaves were uncurling, and I said “Amen” with the monks.

A good little gift: peace, quiet, praise, God’s presence, and a happy baby. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it!

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A year later…

If you go back to my blog posts of a year ago, they’re rather sparse.

It was a weird time. I was dealing with two of the biggest transition points in my life: being pregnant and looking for my first ever “called-and-installed” church position in the PC(USA). (CRC folks: is that not a great phrase? We need to use it more often!)

The great difficulty about this was that the two transitions were living in some tension. I had no idea how a church would react to a pregnant candidate for a minister position. On top of that about the time I started having phone interviews, my pregnancy veered into the “high-risk” category, meaning that I was eventually going to have to explain to a church that I was (a) pregnant and (b) could be put on bedrest in Northwestern Hospital at any time. Oh, and (c) if the church was more than an hour from Northwestern, I probably couldn’t get permission from my OB-GYN to travel for a face-to-face interview. So, for several months, I kept things a little quiet on my blog.

Well, here, a year, a call, and a baby later, it’s time to share what I wish I could have blogged back then. Here are a few thoughts on being pregnant while you’re engaged in the call process.

1. Phone interviews are a pretty good thing if you’re starting to grow in the belly area. You can talk to people and be liked for your brain and not your bump. But be prepared. Bad moment: a PNC (translation for non-Presbyterians: Pastor Nominating Committee, i.e. “Search Committee” ) asked what I’d been reading lately. I blanked, because mostly, I was reading What to Expect When You’re Expecting and 100,000 Baby Names. Dead give away. So I lied, and not well. I think I said Calvin’s Institutes. Yep, I didn’t get offered that one…
2. Really truly, this whole call process is a lot like dating. At some point, I started saying things to friends like, “You know, I think it’s getting pretty serious with church X. How do I tell them about the baby?” Also, an area that I was not very good at: I married the first guy I dated, so I give terrible dating advice on easy things, let alone on “when to tell him about the baby…”
3. Apparently, I was not the only wacko looking for a call and growing a baby. One PNC told me, “Oh, that’s great. We have one other person right now who’s pregnant, too.” But then, the next week, at the presbytery meeting, I was trying to figure out who the pregnant competition was.
4. In some ways, being pregnant while you’re seeking a call is great because churches
   really show their true colors about having a child-bearing-woman around. (And don’t forget, even in the main-line-church-world, where women have been ordained for so much longer, where there are denominational policies, etc. many congregations haven’t been through this yet, OR they haven’t been through it in recent memory.) They can’t ask the awkward (and arguably illegal) questions about if you’re planning to have kids and what you’ll do when they arrive, and you can actually SEE how people will react when you’re pregnant. Not that I would recommend it as something to try for: you really don’t need the  emotional drama of both.

Coming soon…how NOT to introduce your spouse to the community where you might be accepting a call…

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Eat those burgers!

A great victory in the world of fair labor practices.

You can feel good about ketchup again…

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Zora and the Pansy

It isn’t spring any more, but a few days ago Erik and I put some pansies in planters for our porch. (They’re inside until our second winter ends.) I shot this video of Zora having a good time with her first pansy:

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