The gift of mobility

I read an article recently about the importance of self-encouragement in running.  I’ve since lost the exact article and citation, but what I remember is along these lines:  Runners were put on a treadmill and asked to run as long as they could.  The next week, the same runners were put on the same treadmills. This time, however, half of them were told to say “I feel good, I can do this” to themselves as they ran. The group that said those things to themselves ran longer than they had the previous week, and they ran longer than the other group overall. 

I took that article to heart, and I have started to say those things to myself frequently when I run. Not only that, but I have added something else that makes sense to me, a prayer. I thought about the time when I had a broken femur in 6^th grade and had to re-learn how to walk after 3 months in traction and a body cast. I thought about the people that I know and care about that have physical limitations that prevent them from running. And so the prayer I have added is, “Thank you, God, for the gift of being able to run.” Now, when I’m running on the treadmill and getting tired and ready to convince myself that it’s time to quit, I thank God for the gift of the ability to run. I remind myself that I feel good (even if my body disagrees) and affirm that I can reach my goal.  It is working well for me. 

Until yesterday, that is.

It takes a special level of gracefulness to be able to slip and fall on snow- inside. I had put on my boots to run between the church building and the office building between the 2^nd and 3^rd services, so that I could refill my hot tea mug.  I made it successfully between the buildings and walked into the office.  Apparently, though, my boots still had snow on the bottom of them. I hit the kitchen linoleum, and my feet went up and I went down. Nothing was broken, but once I caught my breath, I realized that a few things were probably pulled. I got through the final service of the morning, tried (unsuccessfully) to give blood at our blood drive, and let Andy drive me home. After an afternoon of resting and ice, I planned to be fine this morning. 

My plans worked well until my feet hit the floor this morning. Ouch! My favorite chiropractor shared with me the encouraging news that I’ll feel even worse tomorrow. I’m sitting at my desk, with ice on the painful parts, taking Motrin as often as allowed.My gait is fairly reminiscent of The Mummy in the old movies, step-slide, step-slide.

I haven’t asked my favorite chiropractor yet when I’ll be able to get back to the gym.  Whenever I do get back to the gym, though, I’ll tell myself that I feel good, that I can do this workout. And then I’ll thank God once again for the gift of being able to run. Or walk. Because that gift should never be taken for granted, especially during a snowy winter.

Root Causes

At church, our St. Francis garden is being dug up by 4 guys and a backhoe because our sanctuary roof leaks. Really. Whenever it rains, a clogged drainage pipe backs up so much that it causes water to come through the roof of our sanctuary. The only way to fix the roof is to dig up the garden. Unfortunately, the hardy guys with the backhoe have been out there for eight hours and still haven’t found the offending pipe. Even St. Francis is getting a little worried that the backhoe is getting closer to him.

It’s surprising how often the cause of a problem is so far from the problem itself. I’ll never forget the time I went to the dentist with a toothache, only to have him tell me that my teeth were fine. I was feeling referred pain from a sinus infection.  I know of someone else who went to the hospital with a paralyzed foot and discovered a brain tumor. So often the root cause of our problem has little to do with the location of the pain itself.

I see a lot of impatient people during this time of year. I try to remember that the person who is angry with the fast food worker probably is carrying burdens that have nothing to do with how long it's taking to get his burger. The same likely holds true in line at the Post Office or driving along a crowded street. The root cause of that anger goes much deeper than long lines or a traffic jam.

When Christ came, we weren’t aware that we needed that type of Savior.  We thought our pain could be healed by a political or military hero. Instead, the solution to our hurt came in the form of a baby who preached peace and justice. It seemed to make as much sense as digging a hole in the ground to fix a leaky roof. And yet, our Savior came to us in our pain, and, even from his cradle, he brought us hope.  All these years later, we still find the healing for the root of our pain in the Christ child.

Paying Attention

For those who have been paying attention, past weeks have been difficult in the United Methodist Church with regards to same-sex marriage. One church trial of a pastor who officiated his son’s same-sex wedding has just finished up, with a guilty verdict and penalty of a 30-day suspension and the threat of losing his clergy credentials still looming.  Forty United Methodist clergy co-officiated a gay wedding together, presumably intending to overpower the trial process by their very number. Last Thursday, the Council of Bishops asked for two bishops to file a complaint against Bishop Melvin Talbert for performing a same-sex union last month. It appears that the United Methodist Church is careening towards the spectacle of putting an African-American bishop, who worked closely with MLK during the civil rights era, on trial for standing up for what he feels is today’s civil rights issue for the church. Other church trials are pending. No matter where you stand with regards to same-sex marriage, the future holds great pain for the church as we see our judicial process carried out in the public forum. The larger society will know us by what they read about us in the press, and it is not going to be the UMCOR response in the Philippines that will be getting the attention.

How are we pastors to respond? Most of my colleagues are in congregations similar to mine, which contains members from throughout the political and spiritual spectrum in the big tent that is United Methodism. Even to raise the question in a neutral manner can result in hurt and pain and loss.  In a different place, I once taught a class on the Social Principles. I had 2 families leave the church after the session on homosexuality; one family left because the UMC was too liberal with regards to sexual orientation, and the other family left because the UMC was too conservative. We never saw either family again.

We live in a day and age where it is difficult for us church people to be able to talk about these things.  By default, the UMC is trading conversation for trials. Trials, by their nature, preclude the possibility of sitting together and conversing. Instead, pleas will be entered, motions will be made, positions will be argued, and a verdict will be handed down. There will be winners and losers. News organizations, within and without the church, will broadcast the news, and people in living rooms around the world will pass their own verdicts on our church, based on the snippets that are reported to them. 

The trial process is not conversation.

In the meantime, in our churches and in our pews, a grandmother will find out that a beloved grandchild is gay.  A church member, after months of intentional relationship-building with a non-churched friend, will find new levels of distrust of her church from the person she is trying to reach. A lifelong Methodist who has stayed with his home church all of his life in spite of his sexual orientation will have to decide once more if it is worth it, if there is room for him in his childhood church.

In the meantime, in our churches and in our pews, an evangelist who wants to focus on winning souls to Christ will pray for an end to the distraction.  A political conservative who is weary from fighting the culture wars at the ballot box will find no rest for his soul in his church. A Biblical literalist will have to decide once more if it is worth it, if there is room for him in his childhood church.

In the meantime, one pastor looks out at her congregation, full of everyone named above, and wonders where to go from here. Is it possible, by the grace of God, to create conversation around such difficult topics?  Or is the very nature of the conversation too volatile to bring up? Is the risk too great?  Will more people leave because either we’re too liberal or we’re too conservative?  I began these thoughts with the words, “for those of you paying attention,” and I have to confess that I have been hoping that no one is paying attention. The risks seem so great, even to write an article such as this one.

But is our only hope as we muddle through this mess that no one actually notices? Surely there is a better way.

Here’s what I believe. I believe that there is room for us all in this church, both my congregation and the larger UMC. We may frustrate each other from time to time. We may not always understand one another.  Our passionate convictions may run counter to those of the person sitting beside us. Sometimes, we may all get on each other’s nerves. 

But when we’re at our best, we’re all in it together.  I’ve seen it happen. I’ve seen gay church members working alongside adamantly straight (for lack of a better descriptor) church members, laughing and talking. I’ve seen people pray together in pairs, knowing that they voted in exactly the opposite ways the last time they were at the polls. I’ve seen a church surround a beloved former pastor with love when he lost not one, but two, gay sons to the scourge of AIDS.  I know these things are true. I have seen them with my own eyes.

Yes, there are big things we need to talk about. Change is happening so rapidly, and the size and the increasingly global scope of the UMC make it complicated for us to try to respond to- much less offer leadership in- these changes. I have my own ideas about how we are called to live out Christ’s love (if I were SupremeRulerForLifeOfAllThatISee), but all of my ideas start with the same thing:

We need to be able to talk to one another, to pray for one another, to learn to love one another. Until we can do those things better, our future on this issue will continue to be complicated and divisive.  Sadly, church trials are not likely to lead us in a healing direction.

In the meantime, all I know how to do is to pay attention.  I will pay attention to how I keep showing love to everyone that God sends my way. I’ll just keep paying attention and practicing love, and I'll hope others will join in too. And when the day comes that we come together and get it right, then I hope that the world will pay attention to all the good stuff that those crazy Christians are up to.