Metacentricities

Obviously, one of the primary things that has been on my mind over the last few months, and, indeed, the last couple of years of this seminary journey, has been the relationship between my spirituality and my vocation (or avocation - the ways I spend most of my time.)

In my piece on leaving seminary, I talked about how most of the reason for choosing to go to seminary was that I had a desire to center my life around spirituality, faith, and spiritual practice. And I learned, in the course of going to seminary, and choosing to leave it, that I really didn’t need to become a religious professional to do that. And I also learned that ministry comes in many different guises - many that were not in that traditional sense, organized ministry.

So, here I am, now, beginning my re-entry into the nonprofit technology field, as well as trying to be a writer, and explore other kinds of avenues for sharing what I have learned. So now, how am I centering my life on spirituality and spiritual practice? It’s going to be an evolving question, with changing answers. I’m looking for ways to deepen my own spiritual practices, and imbed them into my daily, monthly and yearly life. I’m being clearer about how I work, and how much I work, and exactly what I do. I’m better understanding the kinds of ways my “ministry” will best manifest itself in those work environments.

I’ve always been able to find work that has meaning to me. The work I’ve been doing in the nonprofit technology field for the last 10 years has been really fulfilling, and I do feel like I’ve had a chance to do be involved in doing some real good for organizations that do some really good work in the world. Sometimes it feels a little removed, other times much more direct. I think I’ve come to the place where I want to more deeply examine how I, and others, do that work, and the ways in which that can foster, or detract, from the work organizations do (hence, my “Zen and the Art of Nonprofit Technology” blog.)

But there is the different kind of work for me in writing. It is, in a different way, direct and indirect in its impact. I have much more exploration and experimentation to do in that realm.

And I know that going forward, this evolving life may or may not include deep involvement in a religious community. That’s another evolving question, with changing answers. In this time of transition, I have become unmoored from any religious community, and right now, that seems to be OK. But I imagine that might change as I settle down.

There will be more on this topic in this blog, for sure, as I get settled, and things start to emerge.

Technorati Tags: nptech, work, spirituality, vocation

I haven’t been talking much about religious topics, or about seminary. Some of you, I know are relieved. Sorry, it’s only temporary. <grin>

Anyway, basically, I’m winding down my seminary journey with two courses that are quite integrative for me. I’ll probably post something on them at some point, but I’m still in integration mode with seminary, with religion and spirituality, with my relationship with God and my relationship with religious structures. I just finished an essay on some aspects of this process. It’s a draft, I think, or maybe it’s just one of a series. But I like it, so it’s up.

Not so long ago, I said that changes were afoot. I feel finally ready to blog about the most recent results of a process that I’ve been going through for the past few weeks or so. This is just another leg of the journey I started over two years ago, in my decision to go to seminary. Which, of course, is part of my lifelong journey of creating a life that is fulfilling, of service, and full of spirit.

A few weeks ago, on my other blog, I posted something about discernment. I was, at the time, in this place of not knowing, which I have become quite familiar with over the past couple of years. Knowing I wanted to center my life more on the spiritual journey, but not knowing how. Knowing I wanted to go to seminary, but not knowing where to go. Not knowing what kind of ministry I felt called to do.

One of the things that’s true about really sitting with that feeling of not knowing, getting comfortable with it, really letting it sink in, is that, actually, knowing comes, slowly, surprisingly, and unexpectedly. I have learned that I have a somewhat unusual process of discernment. Things kind of bubble under the surface, percolating, marinating, processing, then, in a bit of a rush, it all comes out, somewhat fully formed. Feels like a birth, in some ways, because it can be painful.

What I gave birth to this month was the knowing that my path has taken a turn in another direction. I came to realize that the kind of vocational life I would be preparing myself for here, in seminary, was a vocational life I didn’t want to pursue. Which, in a practical sense, meant it didn’t make sense to continue to go to seminary.

The result is that this will be my last semester in seminary. I’ll be taking some courses that combine some old and new interests of mine (more on those later) instead of the MDiv curriculum. I’ll emerge from PSR with a Certificate in Theological Studies, which is something I can hang on a wall, I guess.

And, the truth is, I feel clear and happy. I’m back in a place of not knowing, again, and things will be taking shape slowly. There are the usual practical realities to deal with, the new things to think about, and create. There are the dreams to try out, and maybe fail at.

I simply continue on the path. A spiritual teacher of mine said, "If you accept the challenge of your life, and embrace it – if you live it out fully, bringing yourself to the tasks at hand with all the depth of courage, wisdom, spirit and heart you can find within yourself — then you will serve life." That’s the path.

I ran into a colleague of mine today at the conference (there are a lot of PSR and GTU folk about,) and she had heard, at the PSR Breakfast this morning, that I had a blog. She asked me whether or not I’d talked about some of the events that had happened this spring at PSR. I said that I hadn’t. She seemed disappointed in me. I explained that I’d not been able to process them yet, and not been able to integrate other people’s experiences and my own. As I was telling her about this, and as I thought about it as I walked on the beach today, I realized that this was something I needed to write about. I’d had a blog entry a while back that was too half-formed for me to put out. I think that my thoughts on this issue are, at this point, much better processed, and I’m beginning to understand what the issues are.

This spring, a number of incidents happened that brought the issue of racism to a head on campus. A number of insensitive things were said, or done (for instance, an African Catholic nun, in full habit, was asked whether she was the new cleaning person.) Students felt that perhaps, the effort on campus to eliminate racism (called the "Dismantling Racism Committee") was too much of a sideline, and not enough of a central focus for the institution. One of the incidents, which was the singing of an African American spiritual with altered words at chapel, was something that although I don’t know the minute details of, what I do know, links directly to my own story. These events came to a head, resulted in a couple of actions: a chapel service where those of us of African descent showed solidarity by wearing traditional clothing, or some item that showed solidarity, and a day of mourning for racism, where people were encouraged to wear black, and be in mourning.

In the end, I think that all of this was very fruitful, if difficult. The issue was brought again to people’s attention - it is an issue that tends to be ignored, otherwise. People had to grapple with issues of privilege, and hear about the kinds of things that some people have to deal with every day. Although it should be said that from my perspective, PSR is paying more attention to racism and putting more effort into addressing it than any other institution of higher education that I’ve ever been a part of (which, by now, is quite a few.) It was, in the end, useful for me, because I am getting a better handle on my own issues and perspectives about racism.

So back to the incident that connects to my story. I only heard about this second hand, and so I likely have part of the story wrong. But this is how I heard it, and how I understand it, and it will become clear why I have chosen to talk about it, even as unclear as it is. At one chapel service, a traditional African-American spiritual was sung with different wording, to make it more gender inclusive. The different wording as I understand, originates with a common practice in MCC churches to modify the language of some traditional songs. Some people felt that this modification was disrespectful of the African-American tradition from which the song comes (and, thus, considered it at least disrespectful, and possibly racist act to modify the words.)

This is a complicated issue, and feels to me a little like dueling oppressions. This connects to my own story as someone who is both African-American, and thus someone who experiences racism, and queer, thus someone who experiences homophobia. And, it also makes me a member of two communities and cultures, which, in my personal experience and life, have felt very separate.

I came out in the mid 1980s, in a very segregated city (Cleveland, OH). I lived in Cleveland Heights, which was a rare example of an integrated suburb of Cleveland, unlike the rest, which were almost universally segregated (as was the city itself.) Because of the time and place that I came out, as well as my own upbringing in a largely white suburb of New York, and my experience at an almost entirely white college (Bennington,) when I came out, I chose to focus my social energies on the gay community. It was also the beginning of the AIDS epidemic, and there was a lot to do. And, frankly, at varied times of my life, the homophobia that I have experienced in African-American settings has often been worse than the racism I’ve experienced in queer settings. So, in what was at the time, an unconscious way, I made a choice. I have, most recently, primarily because I am much more aware of my own inner processes, and conscious about my actions and the way I live in the world, become increasingly cognizant of the effects of that choice, both positive and negative.

This is not to say, obviously, that in any way, I denied my ethnicity, or denied that I experienced racism. And it’s not to say that I don’t identify as African-American. It’s just to say that culturally, I tend to feel more lesbian than I feel African-American. Of course, in the end, I’m both, and they are inseparable. But the realities of our society seem to often mean that I have to make a choice.

This last semester at PSR has been very instructive to me about that choice. PSR is a place that has, for varied reasons (most of which, I think honestly, have not a whole lot to do with PSR) been able to get over the hump of being completely welcoming to gays and lesbians, but has had a much harder time with race. I have, in general, felt completely at home at PSR as a lesbian. PSR has a disproportionate share of gay, lesbian and bisexual students.

The colleague mentioned above said to me at one point that eventually, that choice that I made will hurt me. And I realized something really important at that moment. On one hand, the choice has already hurt me. It hurt me the minute I made it unconsciously 20 years ago, and the society which made it necessary to make that choice has hurt me ever since. What I came to realize was that choice doesn’t have to make me suffer.

We live, especially those people who don’t have the privilege of race, class, heterosexuality, or ability, in a world of hurt. Actually, I think everyone does, but some people end up hurting more than others, and this society seems to have a way of unequal distrubution of hurt.  But suffering, that is, experiencing that pain in a disruptive, overwhelming and oppressive way, is, at some level, something we have a little bit of control over. Both the writer of the African-American spiritual "My Help" (which was the subject of the incident mentioned above) as well as His Holiness the Dalai Lama, the leader of a people who have been showered with hurt, have some wisdom about this. We can choose to respond to the pain in a way that causes us more pain and suffering, or we can choose to respond to the pain in a way that helps us transcend it.

Without question, we live in a context that promotes all sorts of forms of oppression. But I meet people one at a time. I will assume that each person I meet, until proven otherwise, like me, is imperfect and makes mistakes, but is of good intent. I had a great exchange with a fellow student on the last day of one of my classes. He’d said something that I felt didn’t reflect what I knew about his attitude about race. While we were sitting at the back of the class, I just gently told him what it sounded like he’d said. We talked a bit, and he appreciated my coming to him with this, and not letting it fester. I heard a little bit about his perspective and experience, and he heard how what he had said (mistakenly) made me feel. We both grew.

This is a choice I am making. And I think it’s the right one, at least for me. I personally can’t (and, honestly, don’t want to) tackle racism on an institutional or societal level. As I’ve said before, it’s not my job. But I can come to each interaction, and each relationship I have with consciousness, compassion, and a desire to be honest and real.

technorati tags: race, racism, homophobia, queer, africanamerican

I’m sitting in one of those big camp living room kinds of things, with a huge fireplace, and a bunch of peole sitting in chairs, and lots of activity around. I’m at Asilomar, the conference center in Pacific Grove, CA, on the ocean, near Monterey. I’m at the Annual meeting of the Northern California Nevada Conference of the United Church of Christ. I’m skipping out on the business meeting, since I’m not a delegate, and I pretty much know how those sorts of things go, I don’t feel like I need to experience it. It seems like this would be a great place to do conferences. I’m not so sure I would like this place as a general vacation sort of spot - although apparently, people do that.

It’s been interesting, and mostly fun. It’s interesting to meet a wide range of people, both people who are lay leaders of their congregations, as well as clergy and other students (I met a student from Yale Divinity - her home church is in Northern California.) The theme for the conference has been "Covenant." An incredibly pleasant surprise was an amazing presentation/liturgy/worship service from Marcia McFee, who is a worship leader Extraordinare. She is incredibly imaginative, and she makes being thoughtful and deep a lot of fun, and packs an incredible amount of wisdom in what she does. Why it was such a surprise was that she is a member of my church, and I had no idea that this was her work!

Tomorrow, I go to PSR graduation, to volunteer, and see some friends off. Plus I get to hear Ann Lamott speak, which I’m looking forward to.  

technorati tags: ucc, conference, worship, psr

because I’m blogging, but not for procrastination. That is, I’m DONE!! I handed in a final take home exam in the big Bible class that I keep mentioning. I turn in my last paper this afternoon (it’s already printed out, I have nothing more to say,) and I had one little tiny annoying form to get signed by my advisor.

It feels very strange. No deadlines, nothing to read (oops, I have a chapter of Gershom Scholem to read for the last meeting of Jewish Mysticism on Thursday.)  But it is definitely like that running off a cliff feeling - I’m still running, and will fall soon.

It means that perhaps, tomorrow, I can GO TO THE BEACH!!! I think I will do just that, too. I’ll take my Scholem with me. 

A somewhat serendipitous occurance (two mentions of the same essay, "Uses of the Erotic" by Audre Lorde in a 24 hour span of time, one of which was in my Christian Worship class, in discussions of the history of Queer Theory and Theology - a whole different topic to write on sometime) sent me back to her collection of essays, called Sister Outsider which was published more than 20 years ago. My copy of it (it was, of course, one of the books I kept) is a bit creased, yellowed, and familiar. I hadn’t looked at it in quite a while, though. My most salient memory of the book was when I moved to Colorado in 1987, it was in the hands of someone who would later become my housemate and good friend, the first time we met. I remembered that, because I had just finished reading it only a week before.

I stole an hour or so from my studying over a quiet dinner this evening to re-read a few of the essays. One of the first things that struck me was that she was writing a lot of these things at about the same age as I am now - in her late 40s. And somehow, each time I return to her work, I’m reminded of how she was such an amazing observer and critic of our society. And, ultimately, how timeless her writing is.

I re-read her classic essay "Poetry Is Not a Luxury." Here is one of my favorite quotes from that essay:

For within living structures defined by profit, by linear power, by institutional dehumanization, our feelings were not meant to survive. Kept around as unavoidable adjuncts or pleasant pastimes, feelings were expected to kneel to thought as women were expected to kneel to men. But women have survived. As poets. And there are no new pains. We have felt them all already. We have hidden that fact in the same place where we have hidden our power. They surface in our dreams, and it is our dreams that point the way to freedom. Those dreams are made realizable through our poems that give us strength and courage to see, to feel, to speak, and to dare.

 I know that Audre’s brand of Black lesbian feminist thought of the 1980s has, in it’s time, given way to postmodernism and queer theory on one hand, and womanist theory on the other. But I think there is still so much to learn from her insights.

technorati tags: poetry, writing, feminism, queertheory

Ages ago in  "blog time" (that’s about a month) Beth wrote a blog entry, called "Blogging as Professional Development." Not too long later, when I was talking with Cindy about my upcoming work next year as an intern at Fairfax Community Church, and expressing the (at this point, mild) stress of thinking about writing sermons, she said I had no excuse - I had lots of sermon material already at hand.

This lead me to think about what blogging means to my professional career (which, at this point is simply my career as a seminarian) and what it means to be a blogging professional. In her post, Beth talks about reflection, and how blogging allows for the expression of what comes from reflection about experiences, or new learning. 

There are an increasing number of religious leaders who blog, although most are relatively young. But it’s interesting to watch what they write, and how, and why. And it will be interesting to watch whether or not, and how, my blogging changes as I move forward on this path. And it will also be interesting to see how we all, as blogging religious professionals, interact with each other in this medium.

technorati tags: blogging, professional, religion

One of the very neat things I’ve learned in the last few weeks of writing a biblical exegesis (basically, interpretation) paper, is that somehow, even though this is a completely different field, my scholars tools still work, and I still have what I’ll call ’scholar’s instincts’: whatever that is inside my head that leads me inexorably forward in researching a topic.

In some ways, I can get lost at sea. I’m doing my paper on Luke 10:25-37. I was beginning to read an article on that piece of scripture (called a pericope) when the article I was reading got all Greek on me. Literally. I put it down. And also, it feels like there isn’t a lot to stand on sometimes. In science research, there always seems to be some place where you can make assumptions about a foundation, and move foreward from there (even though, of course, that is sometimes a bit false security). But with biblical research, sometimes it all feels like it’s sitting on a surface of soup, ready to sink into the muck.

But, be that as it may, one of the bad things about my scholar’s instincts, and the way I’ve been trained, is that I’m basically having to constantly remind myself when I’m doing the research that I’m writing a 10 page paper, not a dissertation. I guess there are worse things. 

technorati tags: bible, exegesis, research

One of the really cool things, in my mind, about being both religiously pluralistic in perspective, as well as intensely interested in contemplative practice and mystical thought, is that you get to think about how practices and concepts from outside one’s own religious tradition can positively impact one’s own spiritual practice and journey. I’ve talked a bit about what I’ve been learning from Jewish religious and mystical tradition (check out my first midrash,) and I had an interesting thought this morning about koans. In our morning Lectio Divina practice, we read Matthew 5, which has this verse (13): "You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot."

This is really nothing but a koan. Salt’s essense is it’s saltiness - if it loses it’s saltiness, it is no longer salt.

I think a Christian koan isn’t really much like a Zen koan, and shouldn’t be structured like one. But I think that the essence of a koan, just like this verse, is that it contains paradox and unexpected twists, that make you really have to think about your own concepts and ideas. I’ve been doing a fair bit of bible reading lately (gee, I wonder why? Oh, right, I’m in seminary!) It’s been a challenge at times to be faced with verses that go against the grain of my own ideas and perspectives about God, the world, and human beings. And it’s our ongoing work to not toss out the baby of the kernels of truths and opportunties for thought, contemplation and knowledge of God present in the Bible with the bathwater of text that is sometimes flawed and very much from its temporal context.

technorati tags: bible, zen, koan, christian