Ordination in Pictures

The church

The flowers

The bulletin

The presentation

The homily

The Holy Spirit

The peace

The bread

The family

The Divinity School friends

The best friend and the fiancé (source of almost all the pictures)

The cake

Holy Week/Easter 2012 = Success

I’m just a touch envious of everyone’s Easter weekend re-caps. Sunny days, playtime with family and friends, and tables full of delicious food. I had a wonderful weekend, but it was the kind where I went to bed before 9 pm on Sunday night – just a little exhausting.

Thursday afternoon, I managed to sneak in 5 miles on the treadmill in the middle of thunderstorms before reviewing my homily for Maundy Thursday service. The choir sounded wonderful, and washing the feet of some of my parishioners was a very moving experience as I close out my time as a deacon. I helped strip the altar in preparation for Good Friday, and afterwards, the choir invited Joe and I to eat dinner with them.

The morning of Good Friday, I raided my closet for shawls and scarves to dress the altar at the hospital. It ended up looking really good, and you can’t even see the sequins on the bottom of the scarf on the cross. Due to a miscommunication, the pianist didn’t show up at the right time, so I ended up leading “Were You There” a cappella. One of those times when I was VERY thankful for my musical training.

Saturday morning, I met my mom for a “semi-long” run (AKA what I would’ve called a long run before marathon training). I was nervous about tackling the 11.2 mile loop at Percy Warner Park after my disastrous run there in January, but I also know that I’m a lot stronger now. Even though it was tough, I rocked it and felt strong the whole way through. We even added on for an even half marathon – 13.1 strong, awesome, hilly miles in beautiful weather. We stopped a couple of times, not because we had to, but because we wanted to enjoy the scenery! It was a great way to spend Holy Saturday.

Easter morning, I showed up at St. David’s to do my thing. The flower guild did an incredible job, and the church looked gorgeous. At the 10:30 service, people were parking on the street because we ran out of space in our (rather generous) parking lot. It was wonderful to see such a good crowd and lots of families visiting. I really, really love Easter. Resurrection and hope are key concepts for my personal ministry, and after a rough week at the hospital, I needed Easter.

Joe and I headed to brunch at my former professors’ where we ate our fill of a beautiful spread – deviled eggs, roasted asparagus, edamame salad, and coconut cake. Then I cleaned the house while he napped and watched the Masters before heading over to my parents’ house for a light dinner of quiche, squash & quinoa salads, more deviled eggs (yay!), and mini cheesecakes.

I wish I could say that that’s a wrap, but my ordination to the priesthood is on Saturday. It blew my mind sitting in church on Sunday that NEXT Sunday, I would be a priest and be celebrating the Eucharist. Thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I’m looking forward to friends and family and the service itself, but I’m also looking forward to VACATION the week after that.

Hope everyone had a good Easter or Passover or just a good weekend! The weather couldn’t have been better.

How Not to Train for a Marathon

I had one of the worst runs of my life on Sunday afternoon, an 11.2 mile death march up and down the hills of Percy Warner Park while my poor mother tried to keep me putting one foot in front of another. Long run Saturday became long run Sunday because I spent Friday afternoon through Saturday here:

The 180th Annual Convention of the Diocese of Tennessee took place up at Sewanee, and even though I’m not canonically resident and therefore had no seat or vote, it was a good experience. The weather and atmosphere was completely different from being up there during the summer. The infamous Sewanee fog was out in full force. We could hardly see our hands in front of our faces and finding the cabin I stayed in was an exercise in driving extremely slowly. Not to get into the nitty gritty of church politics, but convention was amicable and uneventful, apparently different from years past. The Right Reverend Geralyn Wolf of Rhode Island was the keynote speaker and gave the sermon at Saturday morning’s Eucharist. She was incredible and very much embodied her episcopal role. It was my first Eucharist at All Saints’ Chapel (pictured above), and it lived up to expectations. The music and aesthetics and liturgy were all spot on.

The various parishes, missions, and ministries of the diocese all processed with their banners, which was a touching experience for me. Emily, our Divinity School field ed student and my friend, was our banner bearer. Not at all biased, but our banner was by far the prettiest. Anyway, I spent Friday and Saturday mostly drinking wine and coffee and not getting very much sleep.

So when Sunday rolled around, I executed my duties at church, serving at two services and leading Sunday school for the youth, not stressful but exhausting. Intellectually, I thought, “I should be mindful about hydrating since I’m running this afternoon.” But the other voices said, “Have some more coffee.” I slammed down an English muffin with almond butter and banana with a little water and got ready to meet my mom at Percy Warner Park.

I had been dreading this run for a while. Percy Warner’s hills are long and steep and brutal, and while I’m familiar with the 5.8 mile loop, I had never tackled the 11.2. The first mile is all uphill, and I knew immediately I was in trouble. My heart rate was sky high, and my legs felt like bricks. My hamstrings were still sore from my first Bikram class on Thursday, and I could feel them with every step. I couldn’t catch my breath, and it felt like we were going much faster than we were. Each mile split was morale-depleting.

The elevation graph of doom

“What was I thinking. I’m never going to be able to run a marathon,” the little voices in my head told me. “You feel like death after 5 hilly miles. How do you think you’ll feel after 20?” I struggled to resist lying down on the road and crying. Then I listed all of the reasons I was having a crappy run: legs were tired from both BodyPump and Bikram this week, dehydration, travel and emotional stress, church that morning, unseasonably warm and humid January weather, a hard and hilly course, etc. Every time my eyes started to well up, I tried to think, “There is no crying in running (a la A League of Their Own). Do you think Desi Davila or Meb Keflezighi cries when they have a bad run?” We got to the clubhouse, and I drank some water and took some Gu Chomps.

I started to feel a little stronger but still took quite a few walk breaks just so my heart wouldn’t explode out of my chest. We made it up 9 mile hill, and I felt better just knowing the end was in sight, particularly since the last mile is all downhill. Still, my hamstrings were super tight, and I started to feel a hot spot on the bottom of my big toe. I just couldn’t get comfortable, and everything I had on (heart rate monitor, RoadID, fuel belt) felt like it was strangling me. We hit the stone gates as my Garmin clocked 11.2 miles, and I wanted to cry. I chugged the water I had remaining in my fuel belt and walked around trying to shake out my legs. Then I went home, drank some Gatorade, felt sorry for myself, and put on my compression gear.

It sucked, and I still finished. Lessons learned: no more long runs after church, and drink your freaking water. Still, any pep talks about how I am not a failure and how I will be able to run a marathon are certainly welcome. Week 3 of marathon training complete.

2011: A Summary

It was a year, a very busy year, though not so much on the food front.

Travel:

Our travel this year was almost entirely contained to the Southeastern United States. In March, we went to Fort Lauderdale (thank you, free Southwest flight) where we had a great time. In November, we visited some of Joe’s family in St. Augustine and took a side trip to Universal Studios in Orlando. We’ve grown to really enjoy Florida since it’s so easy to get to and affordable for a quick vacation.

We also took a few weekend trips to explore Chattanooga and Atlanta and a short trip to the Knoxville area, including Smoky Mountain National Park, for a friend’s wedding.

Big Events:

In May, I graduated with my Master of Divinity degree from Vanderbilt University.

It was a culmination of three long-but-short years of 84 credit hours, interminable paper-writing, and learning how to speed-read incredibly dense texts. It wasn’t always enjoyable, but I’m a better person for receiving that degree.

Then, about a month later, I was ordained as a transitional deacon in the Episcopal Church.

Now I’m doing a chaplaincy residency program (CPE) and serving as a youth minister at a great parish. After 5+ years in the discernment process and in seminary, it feels so surreal to actually be ministering as my full-time job. I’m crazy busy but so grateful and blessed to get to do what I love.

Running:

2011 was a great year of running for me. It was also my first full calendar year of consistent running. I ran 3 half marathons, 3 10Ks, and a handful of 5Ks. I PR’d at every distance I raced and ran over 1000 miles this year, a goal I had set last year to keep me consistent and motivated. I was an official blogger for Women’s Half Marathon, and only suffered a few minor aches and pains.

Next year, I hope to complete my first marathon and continue to improve and get stronger. Another goal is to keep off the 10 lbs I lost this fall and lose another 5 to be at my happy weight.

Food:

I ate it. Occasionally, I made it. Some of my favorites that I’ve blogged from the past year:
Baked Eggs in Mushrooms with Squash Ragout
The Perfect Veggie Burger
Chorizo and Sweet Potato Hash
Perfect Party Cake

Here’s to a happy and healthy 2012 that’s just as delicious and joy-filled as this year!

Advent, not Christmas (yet)

This Sunday marked the first Sunday of Advent, one of my favorite church seasons (though I feel like I say that about all of them). Gone are the perpetually green vestments and the repetitive tediousness of the Sundays after Pentecost. Enter Sarum blue and the twinkling of the candles on the Advent wreath against the darkness of the shortening days. Enter, stage left, John the Baptist and the nativity without the baby Jesus.

American culture doesn’t do Advent. We don’t do waiting, silently preparing in our hearts for Christmas. And I’m not going to pretend that I wait until Christmas eve to put up my tree or listen to Christmas music. I live in two worlds – one where I sit quietly and focus on my Advent devotion and the other where I hustle and bustle with the best of them, going from shopping to holiday parties.

Advent seems particularly relevant for me this year as I’m ministering in a childrens’ hospital. There are so many times when I’m ready to throw up my hands, to admit that darkness has won. How long, Lord, how long must parents bewail a fatal diagnosis or sit anxiously in the surgery waiting room as a brain tumor is removed? How do people not just give up? How do I not give up? Coming back to the hospital, day after day, holding hands, saying prayers, trying to be a small light in the overwhelming darkness.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5) Along with the literal darkness of the sun starting its descent before 4 pm, there is so much darkness in the world. I see the individual darkness in people’s lives – cancer, sick and dying children, child abuse. But there’s societal darkness as well – economic injustice, hunger and starvation, unemployment, racism, sexism, etc. It’s so overwhelming that I can see why people give up and resign themselves to cynicism or apathy.

In the darkness, the light shines even brighter. As Sam Portaro said, the lights on the Advent wreath are not talismans against darkness but testaments to the light. The light is here, incarnate among us. The light is the strength within the human soul that fights against giving into the darkness. The light is as simple as getting out of bed to live another day in the face of devastating loss. The light is a group of people’s insistence that their voices matter because they are people, because they are children of God.

The light is incarnate among us if we only look for it around us and let it illuminate our souls.

Ordination to the Diaconate

On June 18th, I was ordained as a deacon at Christ Church Cathedral in Houston, Texas along with 10 other marvelous people. I don’t know if words can describe how I felt or what it was like. In some ways, it was like a wedding with 10 other people getting married that I didn’t have to plan. There were two bishops, a brass band, choir, and all of the pomp and circumstance that such an event demands. The cathedral was mostly full, and, save for my wedding day, I have never felt so surrounded by people who love me and support me and have prayed for me throughout this five year journey.

It was a hot and humid June day in Houston (surprise, surprise), and nerves combined with multiple layers of vestments did not help. First, we processed in, were individually presented by our groups of clergy and lay presenters, and then signed the Order of Conformity, that we agreed to conform to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of the Episcopal Church.

From there on, it was like a normal Eucharistic service – readings and a marvelous sermon by the Bishop of Northwest Texas. Then it was time for our ordination. We took our hassocks (fancy word for kneeler-thingies) and kneeled in front of the bishop while he pressed his hands on our heads and asked for the Holy Spirit to come into us. My friends who were ordained last year warned us that he was a bit heavy-handed and to brace ourselves so we didn’t fall over.

Then we were vested with our stoles. Joe approached with the stole that my parents had given me and put it over my left shoulder, which is how deacons wear their stoles. The bishop introduced us to the congregation, gave us our Bibles, and we shared the peace. That is when my eyes begin to water a little bit. I had kept it together through the rest of the service, but I could hardly believe that this was really happening. I honestly thought it might not ever happen. Even walking to the church, I kept thinking something would prevent me from actually getting ordained.

My role during the Eucharist was to serve as an oblationer and hold the flagon of wine, which went very smoothly. Although I was in the back, I still got to see several people who showed up to support me. The service took about two hours, but it seemed like time had stopped and everything in the world was centered on that moment in time. I imagined my great-aunt and great-uncle, an Episcopal priest, watching from heaven with glee and felt surrounded by the prayers of everyone who couldn’t be there. I remembered when I first told Joe that I felt called to the ordained ministry when we first started dating and now he was vesting me.

Afterwards, we took a quick group picture (Yes, I was the youngest person ordained that day.) and headed inside for air conditioning and the presentation of our ordination certificates. The certificates are intense and include a wax seal with the imprint of the bishop’s ring.

And now you know my last name and can stalk me (though it wouldn’t have been that hard to figure out or find before).

Joe, the parentals, and me.

The bishop and me without all of our vestments on.

And the whole family, including my niece Anna, at our post-celebration lunch at Hugo’s.

Thank you all for all of your thoughts and prayers during this time!

Feasting and Fasting

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, otherwise known as the 40 days leading up to Easter. Lent is traditionally a time of penitence and fasting in order to prepare ourselves for the Easter feast. We receive ashes (usually from the burnt palms from last year’s Palm Sunday) on our forehead to remind ourselves of our mortality. I won’t go into the history of Lent because you can Wikipedia that yourself, but I want to talk about what Lent means to me.

For the last several years, I have fasted from meat during Lent. This subsequently led to me reducing meat in my diet and finally going pescetarian. However, that decision made thinking about what I will do to mark Lent this year more challenging. I strongly dislike when people treat Lent as a New Year’s Resolution Take 2. They say that they are going to give up sweets or chocolate or exercise more when that is not at all what Lent is really about. You don’t even have to give UP something for Lent. More and more, there is a move towards taking things on, like joining a Bible Study or committing to saying Morning Prayer every day.

I toyed with the idea of abstaining from alcohol, though my friends pointed out that going through the last semester of divinity school while doing that might prove to be inordinately difficult. Maybe another year.

Then, last week, in my God, Economy, and Poverty class, I figured it out. I am going to fast from all non-necessary shopping. No wine, no Groupons, no clothes, no books, no music. I have books I haven’t even started reading, not to mention access to great libraries. I don’t really need new music for my long runs. I can make playlists. I have plenty of clothes and makeup and STUFF.

As a part of this, I’m going to unsubscribe from most of the e-mails I get. Every week, I get e-mails from World Market, Overstock.com, ideeli, Groupon and Groupon-type companies, and they all encourage me to spend more money on things that I don’t need. Not only will this be good for our budget, but it’s also more sustainable for the earth. As I’ve voluntarily reduced meat consumption, I would also like to voluntarily reduce my consumption of other goods as well.

While I don’t want to spend 40 days calculating the money I would have spent, I want part of my Lenten discipline to donate some of the money that I would have spent on clothes or entertainment that I don’t need. So I plan on giving some of it away to a local charity like Room in the Inn. Even if you don’t observe Lent, I invite you to join me in fasting from consumption of unnecessary items!

How do you plan on marking Lent this year? Could you not buy anything unnecessary for 40 days?

All the Single Lady Pastors

WARNING: There is no food in this post. Feel free to skip it if you’d like. This blog will return to its regularly scheduled programming with some delicious jalapeno cheese bread!

(source)

Well, well, well, Marie Claire strikes again. Their interview of a single, 27 year-old pastor of a Methodist church in Huntsville, AL has recently provided fodder for a variety of religion and ministry blogs. In typical fashion, the story is salacious and embarrassing in its intimate details, but as I haven’t read the full content of the story myself, I won’t rehash that here. If you’re interested, you can check out the coverage on Beauty Tips for Ministers and Hacking Christianity.

When I first heard about the story, my blood ran cold. My first thought was, “That could’ve been me.” Or if not me, one of my friends. While I do not know Ms. Miller and her particular gifts and callings, I know a lot of women like her. I do not doubt that, like a lot of the young women I know and go to school with, she is bright and passionate and cares about serving God and God’s creation. Of course, in seminary and divinity school, our love lives are not under the microscope as they are in a congregation.

This could have been me. As most of you know, I am married. Having my sexuality safely contained within the marital covenant makes people a lot more comfortable. But I never really thought I would get married nor did I particularly desire to. I liked my freedom and independence more, until I met Joe. You know, I make plans; God laughs. Before that though, there had been warnings about how difficult it was to date once you were ordained, not just because of the celibacy thing but also because a female authority figure is threatening to a lot of men. A single (heterosexual) friend of mine, while going through the ordination process, received questions about her sexual orientation.

It is hard enough to be a woman pastor. Even in the 21st century, many would still argue that God does not call women to lead, to teach, to preach in God’s church. Well, except for maybe in the context of children’s ministry. The authority question looms large. As I was asked multiple times, “Because you’re young, short, pretty, and female, how are you going to assert your authority?” My authority and Ms. Miller’s authority and all of my future young clergy women friends’ authority comes from listening and responding to God’s call, to God’s claim on our lives to serve God as an ordained minister, whether we’re short, tall, black, white, purple, single, married, male, female, straight, or gay. And while we’re not living in a perfect world (yet), I hope and pray to God that when I’m up there in that pulpit or celebrating the Eucharist at the altar, younger women and girls will see someone who looks like them, and they will know that God loves them and has plans to prosper them. Maybe even someday, when they’re going through their ordination process, no one will even think to question how their gender and physical characteristics will impact the efficacy of their ministry. Amen.

For more information and support of young (20s & 30s) clergy women, go to Fidelia’s Sisters.