Hello, Cayuga-Syracuse!

I write this as I finish my first day of ministry in your midst, and as I prepare for the Presbytery meeting tomorrow.  I’m impatient (twitchy, even!) to get started – to plunge in head-first and to start casting a vision for what’s next…

But…

I’m not going to do that.

You Called me to be your Resource Presbyter, and although I’m pretty sure none of us are sure of exactly what that means, I’m pretty certain it doesn’t involve me casting a singular vision for our work ahead.  Rather, I believe my task is to help equip us as a Presbytery to discern that vision together so that our congregations can effectively (and effusively!) share the transformative love of Jesus Christ.

I need your help in this.

College President J. Gordon Kingsley wrote that the real work of leadership is to learn the song of the tribe in order to sing the song of the tribe – to help others find their place in the song so that they can be participants in writing the next verse.  Over the next few months I hope to spend time listening to your song.  I want to meet you and yours where you are, so that I can better learn your song and your story.

Borrowing an idea from Sharon Core (Presbytery of Western Reserve), I’m scheduling a “Mobile Office Day” once a week.  What this means is that I’d like to come to your church with my laptop and hotspot and perch there for a day.  We’ll let folks in the Presbytery know that I’m there and that if anyone wants to stop by to chat or to share lunch (brown bag at noon!) they’d be welcome.  All I need is a place to sit – a Sunday school room, narthex or coatroom.  My goal is not to inconvenience you… so if this is impractical, we will figure out another way I can learn a bit about your congregation’s context.

I also covet invitations to visit your church on Sunday mornings (I’ll happily sit in the pew*) as well as attend the various meetings in and around your church – Session, Deacons, Youth Groups, Bible Studies, Knitting Groups (please?), etc.  Just send me an email at kchamis@cayugasyracuse.org and let me know what works for your congregation.

I look forward to learning your song… learning OUR song as a Presbytery.

Blessings –

Karen

*Happy to preach if you need me to (no honorarium!) but I’d really love to experience worship on a ‘normal’ Sunday.

Today is my last day as Staff for National Capital Presbytery.

I’ll confess, it’s a bit surreal. There is so much I will miss about this ministry and those I minister with.  It has been a good four years.  My grief is tempered with the knowledge that I work in a connectional system, and trust that we will all meet again (and I’m not referring to the next General Assembly!).

My grief is tempered, but not alleviated entirely, because I also know things will never be the same.  What will I miss most about my work here?

The lunch table.

I didn’t make it to staff lunch every day – there were other tables and other meetings that called me away – but when I was there it was food for the soul.  We caught up on each other’s lives and debated minutia.  No topic was off-topic.  Sometimes things got heated, other times photos of weddings and grandbabies were shared.  We argued policy, we laughed deeply, we enacted again and again the promise of the Kin-dom through the breaking of bread.

We shared so much more than lunch.

No doubt there will be times when someone with whom I’m sharing lunch with will order salmon on a Wednesday (it’s a long story) or will do a deep-dive into a conversation about theology and politics… and I’ll have to explain my smile. I’m comforted by the hope of those other tables, including The Table – where we gather around with that great cloud of witnesses from every time and place… where we enact again and again the promise of the Kin-dom through the breaking of bread.

Years ago my family visited Santorini, Greece.  I worked hard at learning a bit of modern Greek but struggled with pronouncing “thank you”.  It was only the last day of our visit, when I was writing a card to thank the woman who changed the linens that I wrote the word in Greek and remembered that the word Eucharist means thanksgiving.  (Honestly, I felt both relief at being able to now pronounce the word and silly at the apparent waste of an education on me!)

This intertwining of thanksgiving and tables has never felt more real than it does today.  I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for the opportunity I’ve had these four years to share lunch and life with these incredible people.

Grief, gratitude and tables of all sorts…. and love abides.

When a congregation loses connection with its context, it becomes isolated from the greater community. It may still continue to serve its members with great worship, education and fellowship – but by losing connection with those in the community outside its doors it loses an opportunity to BE the church where it is planted.

An easy way to check your context is to look your demographics. The Presbytery I serve has a subscription for MissionInsite. (Holler if you want more information.) It is a helpful tool, allowing you to see who lives in your neighborhood.

In order for that tool to be truly effective, however, it requires you to have your mother walk your dog.

Let me explain. In one of my congregations, our Session had done the demographic study and we were pretty clear about who we were being called to serve. We began to brainstorm ways our wee church might address some pretty profound needs. After our brainstorming sessions, we’d feel hopeful… and then folks would get in their cars and drive home. This went on for months. We got really good at it!

Meanwhile… my folks came to visit, and Mom delighted in walking our family dog. I’d normally let the dog out in the yard… but Mom? Mom walked that pup all around the neighborhood. As she walked McGiffert, strangers would stop her to say hello and ask about the dog. Mom would invariably say that the dog belonged to the pastor of the Presbyterian church…. and more often than not, they would respond with surprise that they had no idea our congregation existed. She offered to pray for them – and to ask the church to pray for them. They shared their needs and concerns and life stories while McGiffert visited the closest tree.

Demographics on paper are helpful but only if they lead you to hear the stories those numbers represent.

How well do you know your church’s context?

When is the last time you walked around the neighborhood and talked with those who live near you?

Do you know their deepest needs?

Do they know your congregation cares about them?

(Modified from a recent Mission Impact post)

Note:  The words below are my own, and I do not speak for the Presbytery or the denomination that I serve.

Full confession:  I’m a geek.

I’m not the overt geek I once was (I’ve only purchased one graphic novel in the last three years and I’ve not (yet) seen Antman and Wasp and I’m sorely behind with some of Marvel’s offerings on Netflix) but my geek roots run deep.  What I’ve come to appreciate most about the various universes that have been spun into existence are the ways in which they address some of life’s central questions – specifically those about power.

Some of the most persuasive superhero stories are those where the villain’s intent is something we resonate with.  What if, with the snap of my fingers I could end suffering for half of the universe, even if it were at the expense of the other half?  What if by removing human agency, I could bring about peace?  And yet, we recognize that as infatuating as those ideas might be… they deny the core of what it means to be human.  We recognize that the true intent on the part of the villain is not to end suffering with that snap of the fingers… but to selfishly avoid dealing with his own grief.

As we approach the midterms, we watch as all sides attempt to amass power.  The extent to which they are willing to go (as individuals and as political parties) at times betrays their true intent.  Tragedies are used as a platform in order to gain votes, and are managed by those with that particular skill set.  In the midst of a community’s grief those who strategize to maintain power position themselves for photo opportunities – instead of discerning that the needs of the community to sit shiva may be more important.  Others engage in window dressing through the use of a religious personage only to have the curtain pulled away exposing that what was presented was instead a defrocked prop.

In the midst of this there is a prophetic voice stating: “It’s not all about you”.  This is not a place for you to gather power… this is a holy place for those who grieve to be held and comforted.  These are not words of hate, but rather words of anger and grief calling those in power to accountability.  This is the prophet Amos holding up the plumb line, demanding we check our privilege as well as the purpose for our striving for power.

Those who hold power should be held to greater accountability.  Remember, although we recall Uncle Ben telling Peter Parker that “with great power comes great responsibility”* those words echo those of Jesus: “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” (Luke 12:48).

Let us hold all who amass great power accountable.

 

*yes, I know that in the comic book itself these words were not those of the beloved Uncle Ben but instead belonged to the narrator.  Hush.

It’s been almost two years since I last wrote a blog entry.  Amusingly, that entry was written two weeks after the election.  I’m not sure what exactly tipped the scale, or what proverbial straw overburdened this camel to the point of breaking… but something did break, and in the breaking something was released.

Certainly, the appointment of Kavanaugh had something to do with it.  Regardless of whether you believe Dr. Ford or not, his character was unveiled as he defended himself and in spite of the rampant partisanship he displayed he was confirmed.  Perhaps it has to do with the treatment of the clergy of our immigrant churches?  Or the up-tick in hate crimes and membership in White Supremacy groups?

Alternatively, perhaps it is the encouragement of dear and good-meaning friends who have responded to all of this with a reminder to us all to exercise our power in the ballot box.  I fear the rallying cry of ‘vote’ is all too similar to those who offer ‘thoughts and prayers’ after gun violence: these actions are important, but at this stage they are not enough.

Don’t misunderstand me, we absolutely need to get out and vote… and we need to muster everyone to exercise that responsibility regardless of political affiliation.  However, participation in democracy cannot end there.  Voting, similar to the aforementioned ‘thoughts and prayers’ can be done from a distance.  What is required in democracy (and, the Christian faith) can only be done in relationship.  

Robert D. Putnam’s book, Bowling Alone paints a bleak portrait of an America with a trend toward social isolation.  More than anything, I think this trend has enabled the situation we are currently in.  These last few days I’ve encountered an antidote – Fear+Less Dialogues – that I find persuasive.  Dr. Ellison encourages us to see the invisible, hear the unheard and change the world three feet at a time and that change begins by seeing people as humans.

So… Vote.  Pray.  Write.  Protest.  Run for office.  Volunteer.  Smile at your neighbor.  Talk to the person next to you at the coffeeshop.  Join a choir.  Learn the names of the kids in the upstairs apartment.  See people.  Hear people.  Love people.

I’m going to start working on my three feet.

“Intuition takes me there…Intuition takes me everywhere” – John Lennon

In Myers-Briggs speak, I’m an N. That means I tend to lean into my intuition to make decisions. Frankly, I can demonstrate that my intuition is pretty solid. Exhibit A is my wonderful spouse of 26 years. I knew he was the man I would marry long before we began as a couple.

I operate off my gut frequently. Intuition has done everything from helping me to choose colors for our apartment to navigation (pre-Siri). It’s a wonderful gift to have, and although not fool-proof, I tend to trust mine. Chances are, if I were to tell you this, you’d nod with some degree of agreement.

However, if I were to tell you that my intuition provides me with what I need in order to know the price of almonds in Minnesota, you’d probably question my sanity.*

Perhaps this is because one of the important aspects of intuition seems to be the ability to observe clues (verbal, visual, etc.). The minute it’s apparent that I have no access to those clues (I’m not in Minnesota) my ‘intuition’ is circumspect. Another thing at play is the ability to unconsciously recognize patterns based on our experience. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not downplaying intuition (see selection of spouse, above). I’m just trying to understand how it works, and where it works best.

What makes no sense to me is how some folks can assert their belief in a Presidential candidate’s truthfulness based on intuition or gut. Their access to cues is limited to that which is already controlled by the media (if there is anything we’ve learned from reality television is that it far from ‘real’). In addition, our experience of these individuals is also limited in a similar fashion.

I just don’t like him. I just don’t like her. There’s something fishy about him/her.

Listen. Going on your intuition in this case is about as valid as strange women lying in ponds distributing swords as basis for a system of government. It doesn’t work for judging politicians any more than it works for intuiting the price of almonds. You only see what is shown, and there’s not enough of that for a) acquiring cues or b) unconscious pattern recognition.

Be a good citizen. Go beyond duty, and beyond your gut reaction and do the research. Remember that media is biased, and get information from a wide range of sources (including non-US ones). Choose a few from the ‘other side’ as well.  Then decide who will have your vote in November.

Leave the intuition for stuff like picking drapes.

 

*I do know folks who seemingly know stuff they should have know way of knowing. To me, this is not intuition… it’s magic.

Since the attacks in Paris, I’ve intentionally posted about the plight of Syrian refugees.  I’m sure some of my FB friends are wondering when this will let up – and when I’ll get back to the Daily Bunny.  I’ve said it before.  I’m not a one-issue kind of gal.  However, how we as a nation are responding to this tragedy sheds so much light on who we are and what we trust to be important that as a person of faith?  Well, it demands the bandwidth.  The bunny can wait.

For me, this issue revolves around two central theological issues.  The first is a form of Christian Supremacy/Dominionism.  (Not familiar with that latter?  Look it up.  Don’t blame me for the nightmares that follow).  In essence, it is the whole “America is a Christian nation” trope on steroids.  It’s this stance that brings the whole idea that all of Islam is evil.  The problem is, there is little support for any type of dominionism in the Bible, especially in the New Testament.  Even the theological basis for dominionism (rooted in the Genesis narrative) is based on a poor translation of the Hebrew.  The second is similar – it is a theology that is based on fear.  Again, there is little to support this (especially for this Calvinist who professes that God alone is Sovereign).

Several conservative folks have taken on the various memes that link the plight of the refugees with the Christmas story.  They have a point.  Jesus *was* a refugee (the flight to Egypt) but there is nothing to suggest that the family was unwelcome there.  Mary and Joseph when seeking lodging in Bethlehem were not refugees… although, it can be argued that they were seeking refuge.  Memes aside, from verses about ‘entertaining angels unaware’ to the Matthean rendering of “Lord, when were you hungry…” offer plenty theological fodder to suggest that our response to refugees should be one of compassion.  And, no.  Sending them back to bombed out buildings is not a form of tough love any more than sending Jews back to Europe was an expression of the same.  And, no.  We really can’t use the excuse that we’ve got enough poor vets/children/homeless here that need our resources (it’s a false dichotomy – we should do both).  Indeed… when Jesus encountered the woman from an area that now includes Syria, his response was similar.

Of course, we know the story doesn’t end there.

But she answered him, “Sir,^[h] even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”²⁹ Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.”³⁰ So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone. (Mark 7 – NRSV)

What we do next as a people will shape and define us for years to come.  Surely, we can spare a few crumbs.  Jesus did.

 

 

 

 

 

Do not exploit the poor because they are poor and do not crush the needy in court, for the Lord will take up their case and will exact life for life.

— Proverbs 22:22-23

Bill’s downstairs making breakfast.  Johnnycakes.  I’ve never set tooth to one, and he seems to think this is a darn shame, and so on Labor Day he’s at work in the kitchen whipping up something that will no doubt we wonderful.

Today is a day we set aside (make holy?) to honor those that have offered blood, sweat and tears to make this country strong.  It honors the laborers, and the Unions that have fought to protect the rights of those workers.

We now celebrate this holiday with BIG sales at big box stores (many of which are not unionized).  Do you hear them laughing?  They are.  All the way to the bank.

At some point in our history as a nation we changed from the hope and promise of good hard work resulting in movement up the ladder to a society where the rich became richer off the backs of the impoverished.  When Walmart can pay folks so little that full time workers STILL qualify for government benefits (while profits continue to up-tick), there’s a problem.  I’m no economist…. but I do have a wee bit of theologian in me.  I cannot begin to grapple with men and women of faith making the sorts of decisions that exploit the poor for their own gain and claim to be God-fearing.

Excuse me for a second.  I appear to have something rather large in my own eye.

I live quite comfortably.  I don’t give nearly what I should to causes that provoke passion in me… but I give some.  I’ve just spent the last two months setting up a really lovely and comfortable space for my family to live.  And, although I didn’t buy things at Walmart, and tried to purchase items that were not made by children in some foreign land, no doubt I’ve also benefited from the work and labor of others in a way that was not mutually supportive, but exploitive.

This Labor Day?  I vow to do better.  Here’s to those who should benefit from the sweat of their own brow.  Here’s to those who should be paid fairly for the work they do.  Here’s to those who establish justice in the workplace and manage to create wealth for all.  Here’s to the innovators who understand there’s more to life than the bottom line… that adding a second (or even third!) bottom line creates a better world.

Now… on to johnnycakes.

http://www.fastcompany.com/3041663/most-innovative-companies-2015/the-worlds-top-10-most-innovative-companies-of-2015-in-social

http://ecowatch.com/2015/03/04/triple-bottom-line-sustainable-economies/

http://www.sustrana.com/blog/2015/3/3/social-sustainability-valuing-the-people-part-of-the-triple-bottom-line

Apparently, for me, home is not where the heart is.

It’s where I place my butt.

When I accepted my first Call to ministry at the First Presbyterian Church of Attica we moved from a small apartment in NYC to a huge Victorian (complete with a back staircase!).  The move was an easy one, involving a small UHaul and a stop by Bill’s grandmother’s to pick up a Dining Room set.  We grabbed furniture from my parent’s basement, and took donations from friends, and slowly assembled our new home – piece by gently-used piece.

Except…. we didn’t have a couch.  Old chairs, lovingly garbage-picked by my Dad decades earlier, yes.  Couch?  No.

And so this wonderful wee church came to our rescue and collected money for us as a ‘move in’ gift.  We took our gift certificate to Attica Furniture and bought a lovely loveseat, and then pronounced our house a home.

Twenty-some years and several years later I dragged that sofa to the curb.  It was well-used and well-loved and I cannot begin to count the books that were read while I sat on it.  It was the preferred seat for the dog, the cat and those who visited.  It was comfortable for many years – although it had several slipcovers in the last few years of its life.  In so many ways, it represented comfort and ‘home’.

Recently, the congregation at the Roselle church gave Bill and I an incredibly generous gift as we left NJ.  I knew immediately what it would be used for – and that new comfy couch now rests with two new comfortable chairs in the living room of our apartment.  It was symbolic (and somewhat amusing) that those pieces didn’t arrive until after we had been in our new place for a few weeks.   And again, it wasn’t until those pieces were in place that the place could be called ‘home’.

All of this has me reflecting on how many of us who are connected with established faith communities equate church with ‘home’.  I’ve been asked, ‘Have you found a church home?’ – i.e., ‘have you found a place where you are nourished and fed and comfortable?’  And although I don’t think there is anything wrong with that, I think it may be part of what is wrong with us as ‘church people’.  We’re looking for the Church of the Comfy Couch – a place where we can watch the world from the comfort of our microfibered soft space, when what the world needs is folks who are uncomfortable with sitting.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m grateful for soft places to land after a difficult day – and I know there are many times when the church provides that same sort of space for us.  And what of the greatest gifts we can give one another is a comfy space to rest one’s weary bones (for me, Psalm 23 is all about God providing just such a place).  But I’m not so sure that’s what the church is called to do.  Rather, I’m not sure that is the end, but rather the means to another end.

In other words – it is a wonderful and lovely thing that I associate church with comfort, but unless that comfort is balanced with a good helping of challenge, I’ve missed the mark.  Church is more than just a place to get refreshed and renewed (and to comfortably rest one’s butt)… it’s a place to be poked and prodded and spurred on to do all those incredible life-giving things we are called to do. We’re not called to go to church, but to BE the church – and that requires us to move from the comfy couch into the world.