We love them. Really. Truth is, though, our families can zero in on those buttons faster than a speeding bullet. Superman has nothing on the abilities of our mothers, fathers, siblings, or others related to us by blood, marriage, or circumstance to dig into the depths of our emotional basements and attics and drag out the boxes we've tried so hard to keep taped closed. So, as we gather with our respective broods of vipers (just kidding, mostly), here are some tips to keep your spiritual side in tact and the arrest for assault to a minimum.
Eating can't make the pain go away, but enough carbohydrates and sugar can render you catatonic enough to not care. Ask any woman who's been dumped. If a pint or two of Ben and Jerry's can temporarily mend a heart that's been stomped on by a soulless male, it will get you through a weekend with the family. I recommend Phish Food or the Creme Brulee.
Watch a movie. Several holiday films either a) show families way more dysfunctional than yours will ever be or b) are just so stinking sweet that you fall in love with your family all over again. For those searching for an a-type film may consider Home for the Holidays; A Christmas Tale (with subtitles, which generally makes at least one viewer complain - a plus); or The Amityville Horror. B-type films include Bad Santa (not for the super non-profanity types); It's a Wonderful Life; or Love, Actually.
Drink. I know, I know. One should not use alcohol to escape from problems. So if this is a real issue for you, choose from one of the healthier options on this list. If, however, you are able to imbibe, take the edge off with a good red or white. Just don't drive or discuss politics. And don't become the creepy uncle or aunt who knocks back one too many and starts telling stories about the woman or man you met on a wild weekend in Miami who broke your heart and left you with bad credit.
Play the awkward non sequitur game. Just see how many random non sequiturs you can insert into the many, many conversations about the nieces, nephews, grandchildren, and children's accomplishments on honor roll, ballet class, junior varsity football, or the county detention center. For example: Julie's mom: "Julie just made all A's again this year in school. We've already started the application process to Yale, even though she's only in pre-K. One can never be to early!" You: "I hear the new Viagra drug can be used to treat dogs with low blood pressure." See how long it takes for the family to head for the rum cake to ingest carbs and alcohol at the same time. Smile with victory.
Share incriminating stories about your siblings with their children. Really, the gift that keeps on giving. This is particularly useful if your siblings had a rebellious stage, but are now actively involved in the Junior League and their church and feign amnesia to the many, many nights that included the words "curfew violation" and "underage drinking." Use discretion, because you may have kids one day.
Pray. Remember, families, like us, aren't perfect, but they are what we've got. Their sandpaper has rubbed us in good ways and bad ways and ways that we aren't sure what to do. So, somewhere in the joyful chaos that is family, send up a gracious or exasperated thought to God. She's been dealing with this earthly family for a while, so in need or despair, She gets it, too.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
A Litany for Advent
O Lord, as we await the yearly remembrance of your incarnation. We pray most fervently for your grace and favor in our petitions as may be best for us because we really, really need it.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, we are so super excited about the coming sales the day after Christmas. Please make the stores generous and our bank accounts ample.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, we thank you for the gift of your incarnation, but we ask for gift certificates for massages and pedicures at reputable establishments.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, let my skinny jeans still fit by Friday because of that hot date, and turn that chocolate into a carrot stick in body.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, you place the solitary in family. Why? They are driving us crazy. We are not sure how to interpret your reasoning on this one.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, we relish in the fruit of the vine. May we have really good wine this year at Grandma’s and not the cheap stuff.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, deliver us from all assaults of the devil, particularly Aunt Hilda’s tomato aspic and familial guilt.
Good Lord, deliver us.
O Lord, deliver us from back fat, muffin tops and cankles.
Good Lord, deliver us.
O Lord, deliver us from super crappy gifts like cheap stinky soaps and lotions, Christmas sweaters, and gag gifts.
Good Lord, deliver us.
O Lord, deliver us from drunk texting old boyfriends or guys we are interested in but it would be inappropriate and embarrassing if we heard about it on Monday.
Good Lord, deliver us.
O Lord, deliver us from mistletoe and men who remind us of Russian night club owners.
Good Lord, deliver us.
Finally O Lord, pour out upon us your most gracious favor. By that, we mean that we would like to eat until we burst with no consequences, kiss only hot fellows on New Years, and preach a kick ass sermon on Christmas Eve.
To thee, O Lord, our God.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, we are so super excited about the coming sales the day after Christmas. Please make the stores generous and our bank accounts ample.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, we thank you for the gift of your incarnation, but we ask for gift certificates for massages and pedicures at reputable establishments.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, let my skinny jeans still fit by Friday because of that hot date, and turn that chocolate into a carrot stick in body.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, you place the solitary in family. Why? They are driving us crazy. We are not sure how to interpret your reasoning on this one.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, we relish in the fruit of the vine. May we have really good wine this year at Grandma’s and not the cheap stuff.
Lord, hear our prayer.
O Lord, deliver us from all assaults of the devil, particularly Aunt Hilda’s tomato aspic and familial guilt.
Good Lord, deliver us.
O Lord, deliver us from back fat, muffin tops and cankles.
Good Lord, deliver us.
O Lord, deliver us from super crappy gifts like cheap stinky soaps and lotions, Christmas sweaters, and gag gifts.
Good Lord, deliver us.
O Lord, deliver us from drunk texting old boyfriends or guys we are interested in but it would be inappropriate and embarrassing if we heard about it on Monday.
Good Lord, deliver us.
O Lord, deliver us from mistletoe and men who remind us of Russian night club owners.
Good Lord, deliver us.
Finally O Lord, pour out upon us your most gracious favor. By that, we mean that we would like to eat until we burst with no consequences, kiss only hot fellows on New Years, and preach a kick ass sermon on Christmas Eve.
To thee, O Lord, our God.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Hate
We begin with uncertainty. We see someone we do not recognize. We hear sounds that we cannot understand. This other approaches us, and at that moment, we have a choice. We can be curious, or we can be afraid.
If we choose fear, we begin to hate. We start to hate what we see. We hate the way the other exemplifies what we are not. We hate those unknown sounds because most probably those sounds are threats. We still have a choice at this point: we can confront this fear, or we can attack.
When we attack those we hate, we gather an army around us to help. We reduce the other to less than human. We call them names. We encourage others to join in the humiliation of our new enemy. We must break them down before we destroy the threat. We have no choice.
Of course, we do have a choice. Faith gives us choices and chances. We can step out tentatively toward the unknown, opening ourselves to attack or embrace.
Over the last few weeks, we have witnessed the fruit of fear and hate in Uganda. A proposed law would kill those who are afflicted with AIDS, imprison those who are gay, and punish those who would try to protect their gay friends.
We have seen this process before. We have witnessed hate throughout human history. We have participated in hate. We know that it will end with senseless, brutal death and suffering.
What if Uganda took another approach? What if they stepped out on faith instead? We know that hate will lead to violence and death. Where might faith lead them? Where might faith lead us? What if instead of fear, they/we approached these seemingly unknown people with curiosity, awe-filled at the complexity of God’s creation?
When you are curious, you ask questions and you listen. When you listen, you discover similarities, and your empathy. When you listen, you might even discover that you care about someone new.
What if instead of attacking what we do not understand because we are afraid; we actually acknowledge and confront our fears? What if we looked at those fears and realized that they are illusions? Perhaps our fears would go away.
Faith gives us the option of “what if?” Faith allows us to experience something new and beautiful. When we exercise our faith, love grows and community is built. I pray that Uganda will choose faith and explore the “what if” of love. I pray that each one of us will choose faith and explore the “what if” of love.
If we choose fear, we begin to hate. We start to hate what we see. We hate the way the other exemplifies what we are not. We hate those unknown sounds because most probably those sounds are threats. We still have a choice at this point: we can confront this fear, or we can attack.
When we attack those we hate, we gather an army around us to help. We reduce the other to less than human. We call them names. We encourage others to join in the humiliation of our new enemy. We must break them down before we destroy the threat. We have no choice.
Of course, we do have a choice. Faith gives us choices and chances. We can step out tentatively toward the unknown, opening ourselves to attack or embrace.
Over the last few weeks, we have witnessed the fruit of fear and hate in Uganda. A proposed law would kill those who are afflicted with AIDS, imprison those who are gay, and punish those who would try to protect their gay friends.
We have seen this process before. We have witnessed hate throughout human history. We have participated in hate. We know that it will end with senseless, brutal death and suffering.
What if Uganda took another approach? What if they stepped out on faith instead? We know that hate will lead to violence and death. Where might faith lead them? Where might faith lead us? What if instead of fear, they/we approached these seemingly unknown people with curiosity, awe-filled at the complexity of God’s creation?
When you are curious, you ask questions and you listen. When you listen, you discover similarities, and your empathy. When you listen, you might even discover that you care about someone new.
What if instead of attacking what we do not understand because we are afraid; we actually acknowledge and confront our fears? What if we looked at those fears and realized that they are illusions? Perhaps our fears would go away.
Faith gives us the option of “what if?” Faith allows us to experience something new and beautiful. When we exercise our faith, love grows and community is built. I pray that Uganda will choose faith and explore the “what if” of love. I pray that each one of us will choose faith and explore the “what if” of love.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Get on the field
So we elected a new bishop in Louisiana. He's an openly heterosexual male in a monogamous relationship. He also seems to be a person of great faith who values relationships and community. While that may be of great import to Jesus who loved hanging out with people, listening to them, and building relationship, the Church seems more interested in making one's sexuality the only thing of focus.
Many of us are excited. We elected him on the third ballot, with time left to celebrate over chargrilled oysters and get back for me to watch Alabama demolish Florida for the SEC championship.
Because on paper, Alabama wasn't supposed to demolish Florida. They were the underdog, expected to lose against the might of Tim Tebow and the Florida Gators. Sports analysts talked about Florida's massive offensive line, Tebow's almost-the-Messiah quarterback status, and the Gator's stingy defense. Alabama seemed simply to have nice uniforms and a coach everyone in Louisiana hates (that, though, is another blog post). They'd probably make it a good game, but in the end, Florida would be making the trip to Pasadena and Alabama would get the consolation prize of the Sugar Bowl.
Sports analysts don't line up and play the game. They just talk. Too much, actually.
Because Alabama came to play. And play they did. Talking doesn't get you 32 points or hold Florida to 13. Talking doesn't leave Tebow in tears on the sideline, and talking doesn't win games. Talking is just that - talking.
So we elected a bishop. And before the election, we talked. We talked about the direction of the diocese, what we wanted and didn't want in our new bishop, and how we'd vote. And after the election, we'll talk some more. We'll analyze the bishop's every move, his sermons, his votes at various conventions, and we'll opine about what's offensive about him and what gets our defenses up regarding all things episcopal.
But ministry is not so much about talking. It's about action. Far too much ministry is an exercise of the mouth and the ego - talking about what should be done, about how we'd do it, and about why the church is failing because they (that ubiquitous word that distances us from one another) aren't doing things the way we would.
Ministry is love in action - saying we love one another, then actually proving we mean what we say. True ministry is running head-first into the forces of hate and prejudice, carrying the weak and disempowered to a better place. True ministry is admitting that we hurt each other (I call that failure) and repenting, acting better the next time. True ministry is stripping away the lines between them and us and seeing everyone as a child of God and treating them with that respect and love.
So, we can be ministry analysts, those priests and laity who talk and opine, but in the end don't do much more. Or we can be the players who walk into the vineyard prepared to love and serve.
I think our new bishop and the nameless person who has no home and all of God's children in between deserve ministers who act. So, get your asses onto the field. The game is being played.
Many of us are excited. We elected him on the third ballot, with time left to celebrate over chargrilled oysters and get back for me to watch Alabama demolish Florida for the SEC championship.
Because on paper, Alabama wasn't supposed to demolish Florida. They were the underdog, expected to lose against the might of Tim Tebow and the Florida Gators. Sports analysts talked about Florida's massive offensive line, Tebow's almost-the-Messiah quarterback status, and the Gator's stingy defense. Alabama seemed simply to have nice uniforms and a coach everyone in Louisiana hates (that, though, is another blog post). They'd probably make it a good game, but in the end, Florida would be making the trip to Pasadena and Alabama would get the consolation prize of the Sugar Bowl.
Sports analysts don't line up and play the game. They just talk. Too much, actually.
Because Alabama came to play. And play they did. Talking doesn't get you 32 points or hold Florida to 13. Talking doesn't leave Tebow in tears on the sideline, and talking doesn't win games. Talking is just that - talking.
So we elected a bishop. And before the election, we talked. We talked about the direction of the diocese, what we wanted and didn't want in our new bishop, and how we'd vote. And after the election, we'll talk some more. We'll analyze the bishop's every move, his sermons, his votes at various conventions, and we'll opine about what's offensive about him and what gets our defenses up regarding all things episcopal.
But ministry is not so much about talking. It's about action. Far too much ministry is an exercise of the mouth and the ego - talking about what should be done, about how we'd do it, and about why the church is failing because they (that ubiquitous word that distances us from one another) aren't doing things the way we would.
Ministry is love in action - saying we love one another, then actually proving we mean what we say. True ministry is running head-first into the forces of hate and prejudice, carrying the weak and disempowered to a better place. True ministry is admitting that we hurt each other (I call that failure) and repenting, acting better the next time. True ministry is stripping away the lines between them and us and seeing everyone as a child of God and treating them with that respect and love.
So, we can be ministry analysts, those priests and laity who talk and opine, but in the end don't do much more. Or we can be the players who walk into the vineyard prepared to love and serve.
I think our new bishop and the nameless person who has no home and all of God's children in between deserve ministers who act. So, get your asses onto the field. The game is being played.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
An F in Ministry
The greatest lesson I have learned (so far) in ministry is you cannot fear failure. Failure is the one constant in successful ministry. Mistakes are something that you can be sure about every day. The trick is being able to realize that you fail and admit it.
All have fallen short of the grace of God. No one is righteous. A sure sign of spiritual humility and maturity is to recognize that. The real problems arise when you cannot acknowledge or admit any fault.
A few weeks ago, I asked one of the bishop’s candidates in our diocese to talk about when he failed, what he learned, and what he did. Amazingly enough, this priest has never failed! Every “challenge” led eventually to a great triumph. That is incredible! That is bull!
Every challenge does not lead to a great triumph. Every mistake does not turn out in the end to be a secret success. Sometimes you just screw up. There, I said it. You mess up.
Sure, you learn something from all your experiences, but one of the most important things you learn from failure is not to do that again. Perm your hair once, and you learn never to do it again. Wear Kelly green, you learn that you look like a leprechaun. Decide not to visit a sick parishioner in the hospital the day she calls, and she dies before you see her, you learn not to make that mistake again.
Failure is a constant in life. Failures are embarrassing. We fail over and over again, but it does not mean that we are failures. We are failures when we will not recognize our mistakes and take responsibility for them. We are failures when we cannot recognize that we need to repent and ask for forgiveness constantly. Failure allows for redemption, for the saving help of God.
Sometimes we learn a wonderful lesson that enriches our lives from our mistakes. Perhaps that failure led to greater success later, but sometimes we are lucky if we survive with only a few bruises. We do not exist to avoid mistakes at all costs. We exist. We make mistakes. We move forward.
You cannot fear failure. You must accept it as a law of existence, like breathing. The only way you can keep from failing is to do nothing. We know that doing nothing does nothing for us, nor for the Kingdom of God.
So go out there and fail! Fail for the Kingdom of God! Screw it up! Then get back up and try again!
All have fallen short of the grace of God. No one is righteous. A sure sign of spiritual humility and maturity is to recognize that. The real problems arise when you cannot acknowledge or admit any fault.
A few weeks ago, I asked one of the bishop’s candidates in our diocese to talk about when he failed, what he learned, and what he did. Amazingly enough, this priest has never failed! Every “challenge” led eventually to a great triumph. That is incredible! That is bull!
Every challenge does not lead to a great triumph. Every mistake does not turn out in the end to be a secret success. Sometimes you just screw up. There, I said it. You mess up.
Sure, you learn something from all your experiences, but one of the most important things you learn from failure is not to do that again. Perm your hair once, and you learn never to do it again. Wear Kelly green, you learn that you look like a leprechaun. Decide not to visit a sick parishioner in the hospital the day she calls, and she dies before you see her, you learn not to make that mistake again.
Failure is a constant in life. Failures are embarrassing. We fail over and over again, but it does not mean that we are failures. We are failures when we will not recognize our mistakes and take responsibility for them. We are failures when we cannot recognize that we need to repent and ask for forgiveness constantly. Failure allows for redemption, for the saving help of God.
Sometimes we learn a wonderful lesson that enriches our lives from our mistakes. Perhaps that failure led to greater success later, but sometimes we are lucky if we survive with only a few bruises. We do not exist to avoid mistakes at all costs. We exist. We make mistakes. We move forward.
You cannot fear failure. You must accept it as a law of existence, like breathing. The only way you can keep from failing is to do nothing. We know that doing nothing does nothing for us, nor for the Kingdom of God.
So go out there and fail! Fail for the Kingdom of God! Screw it up! Then get back up and try again!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)