Thoughts on ordination

I've really been struggling with the whole ordination thing since I started seminary. I've had a glimpse of what must occur for me to become ordained in the UMC. It a'int pretty. It is long, difficult, political process, full of hoops to jump through; hoops which can only be justified by the phrase, everyone else has had to do it! And at any time, for any reason, at the mere whim of those in authority, your application can stall, you can be forced to repeat a part, returned to the beginning of the process or simply kicked out. In short, there is a lot of nonsense associated with it. (You probably know what word I really wanted to use, but I can't bring myself to using that word to discuss something that SHOULD be holy.)

The process is awful. But I've also not been sure of my "call." I sit in church or class or chapel at school with great preachers and theologians. {Some of them are even faculty :) ! } I have so many class with people who know so much more about theology and the bible etc. So many of my classmates are so secure in their faith. I know that most everyone here has doubts, and if they don't, they probably aren't paying attention. But I can't speak for them. I can only speak for me. I simply don't know what I believe. I don't know that I can be a representative of God on earth. After all, isn't that what being ordained is all about? When we put on the collar, aren't we saying that we are set aside by God for a higher purpose?

In the past, when I didn't understand a concept I'd ask my mother. She invariably would say, "Look it up!"

So I did. The Oxford English Dictionary has a number of definitions for ordination. Here are some of my favorites:

• Arrangement in orders or classes; classification.
• The action or fact of being destined (to an end or purpose); designated or ordained function; purpose, design, or disposition
• A thing which is ordained; an ordinance, decree, statute, law; a prescribed observance

There was nothing in there about being ordained by God. Obviously, there was an entry for ordination by the church. But nothing in there about ordination by God. At first, that may seem like a distinction without a difference. After all, isn't the church an extension of God on earth? Well yes, sorta. But to think that the church is the only way God communicates to me is to limit God. Part of my problem has been my expectation of a divine voice coming through the sky to tell me that I'm special and that I need to be ordained. Well, as it turns out, Ashbrook's comment "We are no different than those that come to us." (Ashbrook, James. Minding the Soul: Pastoral Counseling as Remembering. Fortress Press,

1996.) while initially intended to discuss the "wounded healer" nature of pastoral caregivers, it has something to say about ordination too.

Everyone has a calling. My lovely wife Mo is called to be an attorney, and to be my partner; My mom was called to be a teacher, wife, mother, musician; Dad was called to serve his country, be a father, serve his church; my sister to be a nurse and mother. I've always known I was called to help people. I just have never known exactly how. Turns out, I'm called to be a Pastoral caregiver, probably as a chaplain. I'm called to use my understanding of theology (as unbelievably limited as it is) and my understanding of counseling theory and human nature to help people deal with incredibly difficult situations. To be bothered by the prospect of going through all of the nonsense required to become ordained by the church is to be unfaithful to that calling. The church is imperfect. The church is limited. The church is broken. But there is no other entity that I have ever been involved with that has a mission statement of helping people and making the world a better place. There is no other organization I can be a part of that will so effectively help me live out my calling. So, despite the difficulty, despite the arbitrariness, despite the nonsense. I'll pursue ordination as UMC clergy. Not because I'm called to be a minister, but because I'm called to help people and that is the best way for me to live out that calling.

An interesting Post Script. an hour and a half after I wrote this, I got a call from the church where I am doing a Pastoral Care internship. Every Wednesday morning for 7:30 to 9:00 they serve communion. The clergy take turns. Due to a last minute scheduling change, they didn't have anyone to cover the last 45 minutes. So, tomorrow, for the first time ever I will serve communion. Moreover, I'll be functioning as a member of the clergy. Robe and everything...

educating a heretic

History last night and Pastor as Counselor yesterday morning and my brain is fried.

What's funny is that this morning I turned on the TV and randomly flipped the channel and it landed on a televangelist. In less than a minute, I figured out his was a particular brand of Gnosticism with a nice blend of prosperity gospel. Buy his secret knowledge and god will reward you. If only...

Reminds me of a quote from a U2 song.

"The God I pray to isn't short of cash, mister!"

At least Bono has the energy to be pissed off. Me, I'm still struggling to put words to my beliefs. To get ordained, I have to be able to explain who Jesus is and why it's important. Shoot, to pass History 1 I need to be able to answer that question. But I'm just not sure. I've never REALLY understood Jesus. I certainly get the Jesus as man part. I like Jesus: Feed the poor, do the right thing. Speak truth to power, all that stuff. But I just don't get the divinity part yet. Turns out I'm an Ebionite (an ascetic, vegetarian Jew who adheres to the teachings of Jesus but denies his divinity). Who knew.

Funny thing is that heresy went out in the 2nd century. Except for the Unitarians. I could go there, but their buildings are so boring!

So, a nap; some food; and I keep plugging away. Luckily today I've got a bit of time to revisit 2nd century heresies. Maybe I'll learn something and my thinking might catch up with the third century.

Somebody wake up Tertullian. He's got some 'splaining to do!

Theolgians

In her blog today BesoMami wrote a very cute story about her son. It was filled with a number of personal observations but the punchline was when her son said. "Mom, Jesus Loves you!"

Nurse Joy then made a comment that her daughter frequently sings "Jesus loves you!"

Kids.

My sister frequently makes the comment that she doesn't "get" a lot of what I write about and study. As I wrote in my comment to Alex and Joy, I spend my days with seminarians, I think their kids get it more than the seminarians do! They certainly get it better than me.

I'm banging my head against my desk trying to work on Freud and transference issues. Is Jesus simply a perfect father figure who gives us unconditional love created by us in response to our own broken nature which is caused by a failure to adequately work through early childhood developmental stages?

My head hurts. God must be punishing me for my blasphemy. Either that, or I've been staring at this screen for too long.

Either way, I'll rest and hopefully not get struck by lightning before class tonight.

That reminds me of another cartoon.

A Funny thing.

I got this from a classmates blog. I just thought this was hilarious. Maybe it's the combination of insomnia and pain meds.


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Spoon Theory

It's been a while. Sorry. I'm getting used to my new schedule and dealing with the usual beginning of the semester BS. All of this costs a greater amount of spoons than usual.

I realize that doesn't make sense. Read this and you'll understand.

Gotta go to class. More about spoons later.

RIP Luciano

Another of my childhood heroes died today. Some folks have baseball players. I have Italian Tenors. Yes, I am that much of a nerd. But his voice was pure magic.

I've been very busy with the first week of school. (I'm already two weeks behind!) So I don't have much time to write today. But take a moment today and just listen.

44 years ago today

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny and their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We can never be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, When we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

For Video: Go here

Thanks to Stanford University , and this site for the text.