Category: Faith

One of the problems with being a Lutheran at an Episcopalian seminary is that when I make jokes about “pastors,” no one laughs. When I change the language to “priests,” then everyone laughs. It’s like a completely different world over here.

Well, that was fun.

The text I received was from 2 Corinthians about Christ, the new creation, and the ministry of reconciliation. My preparation consisted of me reading the text while walking, making sure not to fall down some stairs, and making sure I was well hydrated. I spent twenty minutes scribbling notes on a 5×8 note card that I actually ended up not really using. And, right before I walked across campus to the Chapel, I made sure to visit the little seminarians’ room. My brain, however, wouldn’t stop processing it so, while sitting in the chapel, I kept scribbling, crossing things out, and making my card unreadable. Yet, a few ideas kept popping up in my head that I couldn’t flesh out. My brain kept telling me to a) mention Advent and b) mention the liturgy. The only thing is, while standing up there, I didn’t a) only mention Advent and b) mentioned different parts of the liturgy than I planned. Sometimes, planning is for the birds.

I was the sixth out of seven to preach. We all had different texts but I was worried that I might be “tainted” by watching and taking notes on my fellow students. Luckily that didn’t happen. When I stood up in front of the chapel with my back to the altar, staring straight ahead into the camera and at my fellow classmates, it all just started coming out. I began talking about online communities, the “Brand New Day” meme, moving on to the Advent “revolution” that I keep hearing about (aka spend less, don’t be so consumerist, be more pious), quickly pointed out how that can easily become an excuse to withdraw/attack the wider world (which is exactly the opposite of the incarnation), and tied it all up at the end with some name dropping of JC and the Cross. As the only Lutheran in the class, I’m well aware that I tend to be the only one who says “The Cross” or “Crucified” so I was a little nervous I waited too long to do it. Overall, I think I did okay though I felt like I needed to move my legs more. I used my arms, made eye contacts, and all that. But I found my legs stuck to the ground. It reminded me of when I was a little kid and was afraid to dance. I could get my arms to move but my legs stayed frozen. My legs gotta find the rhythm of the Lord, yo.

A few hours ago, I arrived at GTS. I went to the front desk and picked up an envelope that was left for me. The envelope is your standard Christmas card size. It is teal with a glitter sheen that shines under the incandescent lights of the library. On the back is a gold seal that possibly came from Hallmark. On the front of the envelope, my name is written in black sharpie. Underneath my name is a piece of paper, taped on. The title for that paper is “Instructions for Practice Extemporaneous Homilies.”

In between my Biblical Greek class and my Preaching Small Group, I will have 30 minutes to read a biblical text and compose a 3-5 minute homily. On the paper, there is a list of steps to take, things to do, and I’ll be allowed one 5×8 note card when I walk onto the floor of the Chapel of the Good Shepherd. Step five is possibly my favorite step in the bunch: “Have fun. Go for broke. Preach with abandon!”

If there ever was a time to preach in tear away pants, today would be it.

I’ll let you all know how it goes.

It’s amazing how so many of my new relationships with people now are totally one-sided.

Over the weekend, I went to a friend’s birthday party. I love going to parties at his place because my wife and I are usually the token Christians there. Once people discover that I’m in seminary, the questions come out. “Wait, you can get married?” “Do you have to dress funny all the time?” “When you finally get a job, are you going to actually live in a church?” The questions are great and I love being able to explain some of the nuances of the whackiness that is Christian culture since so many of them have only experience ministers through the tv show 7th Heaven. It also doesn’t hurt to have medical residents and fellows who, when they find out what I’m doing, are impressed. For example, a person training to work in the emergency room thinks that I’m the one who is entering an intense field. It’s a nice ego boost.

One other party goer, after learning that I’m in seminary, decided that they needed some pastoral care. They looked at me, exclaimed”I think you can handle this,” and began to speak. So, in the middle of a loud party, with Mamma Mia on the tv, and the drinks flowing, I sat on a couch with this person and began to listen to their story. It was neat because my wife, who was sitting next to me, got to actually watch me “do my thing.” It wasn’t my advice that was sought but rather merely my presence. I’m a stayer, so I stayed awhile (it was already past my Saturday night bed time – working on Sunday kinda kills my Saturday night) and, all in all, I think it went well.

As I was leaving the party, I debriefed myself and talked to my wife about what happened, what I could have done differently, and gave my frank opinion about the situation. She thought I did a great job at being an active listener and I made the comment that, if this had been a question posted on ask.metafilter.com, I would have been way more frank, opinionated, and maybe even a little harsh. Not that I think my advice would have been wrong but it wouldn’t have been pastoral.

And that got me thinking about how many of the skills I’m learning as a future member of the clergy club go against what would be good advice in the real world, specifically when it comes to relationships. In most relationships, there should be some give and take. You shouldn’t be friends with someone who cares little for your opinion, doesn’t listen to you, and who only focus on themselves. If I wrote a little online blurb about the overall framework for some of the pastoral care relationships that I have had, people would tell me that I need to end those relationships. They would appear non-healthy. Some might think I’m being used. Armchair psychologists would be outraged.

But so few of the relationships I’ve established in pastoral care settings have been mutual. Once I’m placed in the role as a “member of the clergy,” the rules change. It’s probably what therapists and bartenders learn to adapt to after awhile. Every once in awhile, when I think that some self-revelation might be helpful, I’m never surprised when the subject quickly changes back to themselves, ignores what I said, or their eyes start to glaze over while I’m telling my story. From a normal perspective, with people as supposed equals, that wouldn’t be kosher. In fact, that would tick me off. But, so far as a member of the budding clergy, this isn’t abnormal. In fact, this happens all the time. I am Marc and the Sounding Board and, to be honest, I don’t mind.

I’m starting to get why a bunch of the clergy I respect and study don’t reveal much at all. There really isn’t much need to. In fact, it can delay a conversation and not create the level of intimacy that, in other situations, it would. Just by labeling oneself as a budding clergy ends up creating that level of intimacy and trust, if the other person believes that. It’s one of the (freaky) superpowers that the label gives me – and I don’t even have to wear a collar for it to show up. I think, in terms of the game that is clergydom, I am not at level 2. BOOOOOPPPPPPPPP. *POWER-UP*

I am so terribly bad at updating my blog right now. Alas, I’m still here, still taking pictures, and I’m still in seminary.

Last Thursday, at the Common Ground service at Advent Lutheran Church, Manhattan, I tackled the concept of “Guilt.” It is posted below.

I hate the picture that it is frozen on.

Now, before that title worries you, I didn’t give seven sermons today. Instead, I heard seven sermons (one was a repeat so only six “new to me” sermons) today. With today being the first Sunday of my seminary year, that means that today was also my first Sunday at my field education site. It was great to be back serving the congregation I was at last year. People missed me and were excited to see me. I only talked to a couple of the people I really wanted to but it was great to be back, to be wanted, and to catch up with folks. And I remembered most of their names! After my time at my field ed site, I came home and tried not to fall asleep while studying greek vocabulary words. That was a struggle.

After my study time, I went back to my field site to witness an inter-faith service consisting of roughly ten congregations from a variety of faith traditions. The speaker was an iman from the Upper East Side. The place was packed and I believe there were more yarmulkes in the room than Lutherans. After the imans message (which was short and good), I left early and ran to another service at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church on Central Park West. In a beautiful building, I sat with an audience that was 65% clergy. We listened to bishops, presidents, and former bishops, talking about the founding of Lutheran Disaster Response New York. ELCA Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson spoke as well as former bishop Stephen Bouman and the current Atlantic-Synod President of the LCMS. There was singing, contemporary interpretations of psalms, gospels readings, and four sermons. By the end of it, I was in lala land – I think I was sermoned out.

During those sermons, I found myself drifting. Rather than reflecting back on the events of 9/11 (and where I was), I found myself returning to a visit I had over CPE. I was comforting the family and friends of a man who was dying. The man had become a father figure to a large number of children who lost fathers in the WTC collapse. One of their mothers was in the room and, after some time, I heard the story of how many times they had exhumed and re-interred her husband’s body. Very few remains existed at first but more was found after the first burial. It happened so often that the graveyard director said that if there were any more reports of remains, they should just cremate them and keep them because they’re not going to open that coffin again. After telling me that story, the woman then – half-jokingly – asked me what happens with her husband once the bodily resurrection comes? Does he come back whole? Is he just walking around in pieces? There was a bit of black humor there but I could sense she was hoping for a slight answer and the opportunity to expand on what fears and concerns she had. Luckily I was interrupted by the dying man and I never had to answer her question. I didn’t have an answer for me. It was a question I never really thought about nor cared to ask. It’s possible that too many zombie movies have interfered with my ability to process that kind of resurrection.

Yet, as I sat in the pews tonight, I kept going back to that story. In a sense, it is one of my more recent overt interactions with the events of 9/11. I haven’t been down to the World Trade Center site in awhile. When I saw the structure while in the Village yesterday, I didn’t believe that it was as tall as it is (82 stories so far!). I don’t really think about 9/11 very much anymore. The outcomes of that event – the security shakedown in the US, in subways, the wars and deaths of thousands of people – all have, in away, become background noise to me. I was still in college when 9/11 happened. I’ve lived in a post-9/11 world ever since I moved to New York. 9/11 has always hovered in the air and, in away, is part of the fabric of the New York culture and story. The event happened and has woven itself into the culture of New York. New York has lived on because that is what it does with all new stories – it grows, evolves, changes, and absorbs all that happens to it and in it. In a sense, living in New York is living with 9/11 everyday. Even though I wasn’t in NYC at the time, it’s still in the very air that I breathe. Like the urine smells in the subway station, it’s just part of the New York I know and love.

In all honesty, it felt a tad lonely sitting in the pews during the service tonight and during the reception. I realized, while sitting there, that all the people in the room could imagine a different time because they had lived that different time. Most had suffered personal losses in the attacks. Many had served as chaplains to the first responders in the days following the towers’ collapse. Most of the pastors in that room still counseled people who are still trying to heal from the losses of that day. I felt like I was in the wrong generation for the service tonight (though it didn’t help that the LCMS required the service to be so stripped down and weird that it never felt like a solemn service to me). The people there knew a NYC without 9/11 and I don’t. I’m not sure if the speakers up there understood that (though I think my field education pastor does). But I’m at least glad that the food spread was pretty nice. We can at least join together while munching on spring rolls.

And so, with today being the day after Labor Day, I have begun my second year of seminary. The bell, it tolls for me.

I don’t recall if I ever wrote that I am no longer attending the Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia. I transfered to the General Theological Seminary of the Episcopal Church (or General for short). There are a few reasons why I transfered and I’ll admit that the fact that it had a longer name than LTSP was one of its draws. But, in all seriousness, I was sick of the commute to Philly and I didn’t want to do it for another two years. My church, my cat, my dog, and (most importantly) my wife were in New York and I wanted to be there too. So to General I shall go.

Last week, I spent my time at orientation. I sat through the usual junk (financial aid, introductions, registrar, yadda yadda). It was less painful than LTSP’s orientation and I enjoyed that it actually seemed like the administration cared about each individual there. That doesn’t mean to say that they’re perfect or that I won’t come to dislike the administration apparatus tomorrow but I like what I saw and felt. And I love the fact that one of our orientation classes consisted of getting familiar with how worship was done at General. That didn’t happen at LTSP.

So I’ve been spending my time getting use to the lingo at General. It’s nice that most of the M.Div students have a title that goes with them (Lutherans don’t) and I’m finding it nice that the school tries to be Lutheran friendly. My advisor is a new professor who is rostered with the ELCA and I keep seeing references in some class syllabi to the ELW. But there are only three full time Lutherans on campus at the moment (which is two more than last year) so it isn’t hard to feel a tad lonely being there.

I’m also considered a commuter student since I’m not living on campus. That means that I don’t have to pay some fees but it also means that, since I’m not on the meal plan, that I’m not allowed to eat lunch in the Refectory with everyone else. And with worship being at 8 in the morning, that’s a pretty good reason why I won’t be at worship either. I find both of these things a tad annoying but, hey, LTSP and General keep their campus-mates much closer to the chest than commuter students and I knew that going in. The President at General kept telling us to be at the refectory and go to chapel to help “be in community” but they sure don’t make it that easy for commuter students who need their beauty sleep.

All in all, I’m finding General to be a nice place. I’m one of the younger folks in the group and I seem to be part of the married majority. The campus has a day care center and babies are all over the place. And if I had a dime for every dog I see on the one block campus, I’d be able to pay off my seminary loans. Babies, dogs, and spouses/partners: you can’t throw a hymnal without hitting all of them.

As much as I’m enjoying the place, I’m also not liking it at the same time. I find the course offerings at General to be a tad unexciting and I have a feeling that I will not be challenged like I was last year. None of the courses really excite me at all. I’m taking New Testament, Greek, and Introduction to Music, Preaching, and two practical pastoral care courses. I have no particular passion towards any of these courses (though, don’t get me wrong, the New Testament is awesome but I’m just not too thrilled with what little of the syllabus for that course I saw). When I realized what my course options were, I know that my first reaction was to feel deflated and I’ve basically been at that point for the entire week. I’m taking courses I need to fill graduation requirements but nothing that really excites me. And the one class I had today didn’t help things since we sat there and watched a movie for 75% of the class period. I could do that at home people.

I have a concern that my seminary year is gonna be very blah. I’m gonna need to not let that interfere with my field education work though. I’m getting a lot more responsibility and I’m excited about that. A great field education experience will more than make up for a blah academic year (I hope).