Take My Hand

Fly-fishing, Fourth of July, and Taking It Easy

As I type this, I have exactly thirty minutes. Until what, you ask? Until tomorrow.

I promised Questing Parson today -- we had lunch -- that I would post this evening. The clock is ticking. I believe my exact words to him were "I'll blog before tomorrow if it kills me."

To be fair, I had intended to blog on the Fourth of July. However, there was no internet access whatsoever where I spent the weekend. That's my excuse. And I'm sticking to it.

It was nice, though, to spend the weekend relaxing.

For the first time in my life, I actually caught fish when I went fishing. It was brilliantly wonderful. I caught five (or six, depending on certain variables) in the course of two hours. And I did it all with a fly-rod. Granted, my dad was steering the canoe. But casting and reeling in the rod was all me. Once you set aside the fact that I didn't unhook the fish myself, I was a veritable fly-fisherwoman.

I get why people fish. I can understand the appeal of hanging a "Gone Fishing" sign on the door and spending the day with a fly-rod in hand.

It's a shame people don't do that anymore. It's a shame people don't take an hour or two for lunch instead of scarfing down a sandwich at a desk. (Granted, it's a shame that not everyone could feasibly have the luxury of having a job to take a break from.)

Come fall, it'll be easy to get stuck in the grind of classes, work, etc.

I'll have to remember to hang the "Gone Fishing" sign every once in a while. Just like I'll have to remember to blog. :)

Conference Update #1

I promised I'd update... Somehow I had forgotten how very busy things get at Conference. But a promise is a promise -- even if that means I have to pull out the laptop and scandalously update during a business session!

So far, the highlights have included the ordination service last night. A friend was commissioned, so that was particularly meaningful.

Earlier in the day yesterday the Conference went a little crazy. The United Methodist Church, and several other organizations (i.e. the NBA...) are partnering with the Nothing But Nets campaign that provides malaria nets for children and people in countries that suffer for lack of a insecticide treated bed net.

Well. Back at General Conference in Fort Worth, Nothing But Nets was highlighted, and all of the bishops signed basketballs (apparently playing off of the net/basketball relationship -- I completely did not get that until about 1 am last night!) to auction off as a benefit for Nothing But Nets. Our conference purchased one of the balls, and gave it to our Bishop during the session yesterday. Just as Bishop Davis accepted the ball and was admiring it, one of the folks in the Conference session stood up and said "I'll bet $20 that you'll be able to shoot that ball and make a basket!" A basketball goal was brought out, and -- after missing the first shot -- Bishop Davis made it on the second try.

Then folks started waving $20 bills in the air, while the Associate Conference Secretaries ran around collecting the money in buckets with huge grins on their faces. That went on for a while. Just when we thought the donating/betting madness had ended, a church pastor got up at one of the mics and said, "Our church pledges $2,000 to the campaign!" Well, other churches couldn't stand to be outdone, so more and more folks started coming up to the mics pledging $2,000 or $2,050 if they really wanted to put in a . Some of the small-membership churches got up and pledged money. One lay leader said, "Our church is small, but we'd like to help out too -- we'll pledge a dollar for every person on our rolls." This went on for a good twenty minutes. All the while, I was wondering when my church would step up and pledge our bit.

All the other churches that are comparable in size to my church, etc. had already pledged. I was starting to get a little upset that we hadn't gotten up there, when the smaller church in my town got up and said rather snarkily, "Well. We're still waiting to hear from the big church in our town... But in the mean time, we're pledging $2,000!"

Not too long after that did the lay-leader from my church get up and say, "We pledge $25,000." The bishop then said, "Two thousand five-hundred?" The response was, "No. Twenty-five thousand."

The whole Conference erupted in applause.

It was quite an experience.

I went to dinner with the folks from my church's delegation. The discussion topic of the meal was whether or not our senior pastor knew what we had done! He wasn't actually in the session (for a very legitimate reason). We'll see!

Ok. The clergy retirees are giving their good-bye speeches... and I really want to pay attention. It looks like the first speech is about a prayer written by Thomas Merton.

NS

Family Reunion, aka Annual Conference

Annual Conference begins on Monday. 

While many -- if not most -- folks I know dread going to Conference, it's one of my favorite parts of the year. By far. So much so that I once went to the extreme of flying into Atlanta from Hawaii (8 hours jet lagged) and after two hours rest in Atlanta, drove to Athens for a week of Conference.  That was an interesting Conference year, let me tell you.

This summer, I will have been to Conference as a voting delegate every year since I was 12, so this makes my 7th year straight. I think that puts me in the running for 'Methodork'.

When explaining what Annual Conference is like, I always have to fight the urge to paraphrase Dickens, and say that it was "the best of times and the worst of times." Because that is exactly what Conference is.

The best comparison I can come up with is to say that Conference is one big dysfunctional family reunion, with a bit of business thrown in on the side. Seriously. Anything and everything you would expect to find at a dysfunctional family's reunion, you'll find at Annual Conference. You'll find laughter and tears. Happy people, extremely bored people, and very angry people. Food, food and more food. Gossiping. Sinister plots in various stages of developement. People nodding off in their chairs. You'll even find Grandpa (in Conference terms, the preacher whom you'd least expect) distributing very surreptitiously -- from the trunk of his car --the booze he brought along. You'll find folks hugging, and folks who are trying very hard not to bop each other in the nose. 

Somehow, amidst all the chaos and commotion, we occasionally manage to stumble across what it means to be a Christian.   

I sure am looking forward to it... I'm looking forward to going home to Conference.

And you can bet that I'll be blogging. 

Ah, the bureaucracy...

The United Methodist powers that be require several things of a person who wants to be officially admitted to the candidacy process for ordained ministry.  One of the things required is a credit check.

All you have to do is go to Equifax.com, pay $15.00, forward the report to the district office, and then you're done. Simple, right?

Wrong.

Here's the problem:
I have no credit.
I don't have a credit card, and I don't have any loans.
I also have no plans to get either of these any time in the next, oh, six years.

But, I still need a credit check, as well as a FICO score. Or at least some sort of certification that neither exist for me. Oh yeah, and it can't be any company other than Equifax.

My morning was spent on the phone with Equifax's customer service representatives trying to explain that I needed a credit check even though I have no credit.

It's still not resolved.

Want to know the district office's solution? Their advice was to: "Get in debt and then pay it off really fast."  Um, no.

Oy.

If only I had a quarter for every time I heard, "We've never had this problem before..."  I'd be rich.

Snoring Dogs, the Price of Cheese, and Summer

I've been trying to come up with something interesting to blog about.  And, trust me, there are plenty of interesting things to blog about -- things like my thoughts on General Conference, the presidential election, or the fact that I think short-term mission trips are often nothing more than noblesse oblige.

But, even with all these topics staring me in the face, I don't feel like putting my thoughts on these things out there. At least, I don't feel like putting my thoughts out there right now.

Instead, I'm blogging about a dog named Edgar. I'm housesitting for some friends who are out at the Festival of Homiletics.  These friends have a beagle. The beagle snores. Loudly.

Because I'm house-sitting, I had to go the grocery to pick stuff up (grapes, milk, eggs, ice cream, cheese, soup, soup and more soup) to eat for the next week or so. Let me tell you -- I never realized how expensive cheese is.  However, I was aware enough to realize that if you buy a block of cheese and shred it yourself, it's much cheaper.

Just in case you're wondering, my summer will consist of working in the Dean of Students office at Agnes Scott College, developing the curriculum that will be used to help the incoming First-Year students adjust to college life. In addition to that, I'll be learning Latin as well as doing some reading on popular religion in Early Modern Europe.  Oh, and attending Annual Conference (it'll be my 7th straight year as a voting delegate!).

So there you have it. A non-substantive post. But a post nonetheless!

Ok, Ok, Ok...

I'm finally posting. Following several threats to "come back, or else" I've decided to say:

"Hello great big Blogging World! I'm back!"

School's out, and summer's here.

Get happy; more substantial posts are on the way.

The Kingdom of God

This is a post written for Adam Walker Cleaveland's guest blogger series on the Kingdom of God. It should go live on his blog at some point in the semi-near future...

Here it is:

The Kingdom of God.

I didn’t grow up hearing that phrase bandied about. Ask me about prevenient or sanctifying grace and I’ll give you a textbook answer – good little Methodist that I am. Sure, I’ve prayed the Lord’s Prayer thousands of times, saying “…thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.” But, the concept of ‘The Kingdom of God’ was not overtly discussed in my childhood Sunday School classes. And that’s pretty significant when Sunday School encompasses the full extent of your formal(ish) theological education.

Then again, a textbook answer is hardly ever as interesting as a practical one. Nor is a textbook answer necessarily truer. So, what I can tell you about the Kingdom of God? I can tell you what I believe to be true about the Kingdom of God right now, however, that’s not to say that I won’t change my mind tomorrow.

I believe that we can catch glimpses of the Kingdom of God today if we look closely enough. The Kingdom of God is present when a newborn baby curls her hand around your finger, when a homeless mother is treated with dignity and respect at a job interview, and when a starving Somalian is given more than enough food to eat. The Kingdom of God is present in a hug at the end of a hard day, and in encouraging words from people you respect. We catch glimpses of the Kingdom of God in those instances in which we realize and remember that God is indeed here with us in our humanity.

Glimpses of the Kingdom of God, however, are merely that – glimpses. It is my distinct hope, though that Kingdom of God can indeed be fully realized one day.

It may not be fully realized today, tomorrow, or even in the next hundred thousand years – but I have hope that it’s possible. I have to hope. In a world that is marred by things like war, disease, abuse, and hunger, I have to believe that the Kingdom of God is a real possibility. There can be no alternative.

I have to believe that one day our children will be born into a completely good world, that we all will be treated with respect and dignity, and that we all will have enough food to eat. I have to believe that every one of us will be held in a hug when we need it most, and that none of us will be subject to jeers and disparaging remarks. I have to believe that wars will one day cease, that hunger and famine will end, and that disease and abuse will be no more.

I have to believe that the Kingdom of God is fully possible. I have to believe that we as humans and we as Christians are, as John Wesley puts it “traveling on toward perfection” and that within that perfection lies the Kingdom of God.

The Kingdom of God is – quite simply – my hope for our future.

Church Sign

I drove by this church sign the other day... I had to stop and take a picture so I could share it with you all:

2007 and 2008

In 2007, I:

- Graduated from High School
- Began college at Agnes Scott on Scholarship
- Bought my first Mac computer
- Got my first car
- Preached a sermon at Annual Conference in front of +1,000 and half of them were clergy
- Conducted an entire worship service all by myself
- Started regularly attending a church other than the church I grew up in
- Took my first course in Philosophy
- Made a conscious decision not to run for General Conference
- Drove someone to the hospital for the first time, and picked someone up from a car wreck for the first time
- Became a caffiene addict, and began drinking tea as well as coffee and Diet Coke

In 2008, I will:

- Vote in my first election
- Be a college student, for the entire year
- Earn a black-belt in karate (hopefully)
- Have my first non-church related, and non-babysitting job
- Have my first paying gig as a speaker
- Take cello lessons for the first time

In looking at all this, I realize that there are many more things I did in 2007 -- things that are perhaps more important that what I mentioned -- and there are many more things that I will do in 2008. But, for some reason or another this is what ended up on the lists today.

I sincerely hope, though, that while much of what I have listed is 'me-centric', that I have done at least a little bit of good for others.

I hope that I smiled enough. I hope that I spoke words of hope and comfort to those who needed to hear it. And I hope that that's what I'll continue to do in the future.

I hope that I have the courage it takes to change the world, and the fortitude and grace to keep pushing on toward perfection even when perfection seems impossible.

I hope I have the wisdom to recognize that I alone cannot be Jesus, and that instead we all must be together.

Peace to you all in this year of 2008...

An Eventful Wednesday

I thought I'd share a story with you, as you might be amused by it...

This is a true story; this happened to me a few weeks ago:

I've always been fascinated with the Episcopal Church. So, I decided to check out Big Name Episcopal Church. I looked on the Church's website to see what time services were held, and noticed that there was a service on Wednesday at 8 p.m. Wednesdays at 8 p.m. are good times for church services for a college student like me.

Wednesday rolled around, and so I went.

I parked my car, and got out. The information online said that the service would be held in the Chapel. The night watchman was there in the parking lot, so I asked him where the Chapel was and how to get there. He pointed me in the right direction.

The gorgeous, tall oak doors squeaked when the opened to a small empty sanctuary. I sat down close to the altar. I noticed that there was a stand covered in the same cloth that the altar paraments were made of. It was too small to be a baptismal font; I figured that it must be an urn.

Soon enough, a few people came in, sat down and introduced themselves. There were three women and two men, plus me, there for the service.

One of the women, after introducing herself, wondered aloud what "that thing in front of the altar" was. The other church members joined in her musings.

One of the men said, "Well, whatever it is, we better move it." He got out of his seat to go and do just that.

I'm thinking, "Uh, you better not." But, of course, I don't say it because I'm a visitor. The priest hadn't arrived yet.

The man gets up to move it.

He slides it a couple of inches.

It tips over, and the urn falls on the floor.

Ashes go flying and are scattered everywhere.

The women shout, "Oh! Oh! It's a dead person!!" and run out into the nave.

The men start up saying, "I'm not picking it up! I'm not touching anyone's ashes!"

All the while I'm just sitting there.

One of the men finally gets up the courage to clean up the ashes. He scooped them up with a service bulletin. He slid the ashes back into the urn. As he put the lid on he said, "It says on the top her name is Barbara!!"

The women come back up close to the altar, and we all laugh until there are tears running down our cheeks.

Then, the priest walked in and we started the service.

Everything was going smoothly until we got to the Confession. The priest said, "Let us now confess our sins against God and one another..." We were supposed to respond by reading the printed confession in the bulletin. But!

The man who tipped the urn over busted out laughing. And then we all started laughing, except for the priest who was looking bewildered. The man then said, "Well we might as well tell her (referring to the priest)". He then looked at the priest and said succintly, "Barbara fell out of her container."

Immediately after he said that, the priest got up and ran out of the chapel. We all sat there laughing for a few minutes. And that was the end of the service.

One of the women said to me as we were walking out of the chapel, "Well, now you have a story to tell your friends."

She got that right.