Enough

Hi everyone! I realize I've been neglectful of my blog -- to those of you who were hoping to hear more from me, my apologies. And to those of you who were wondering if I'd died or dropped off the face of the earth, I am very much alive! Let me tell you a little bit about why it's been so long and what's been going on.

Let's start with the simple fact that I work in development. I was told that the end of the year is a busy time in the world of nonprofit development, but I had NO IDEA it would be quite this hectic. Between special events, extra logistical maneuvering, a higher volume of routine processing, and the office Advent festivities, there's been so much happening that trying to write a blog post on top of that just felt like too much. But it's all been good stuff, so I can't and won't complain.

The fact that it's Christmastime keeps eluding me, though. I know it, as I sit here in the soft glow of the icicle lights that line our fireplace, but the days keep flying by so quickly that I barely know where I am in the week, let alone in the timeline of an entire year. A few weeks ago we hit the three-month mark -- a quarter of the way through this internship already -- and it stunned me. How did that happen?!

Whenever I reach milestone points, however small, I like to take some time to reflect on the part of the journey that's passed, and in doing so now, I've spent a lot of time lately being grateful. Appropriately, it really kicked off with the Thankathon -- an entire week of reaching our to our donors to thank them for making it possible for Sojourners to do the work we do. The whole experience confirmed for me how awesome it is that I get to interface with the people I do in my position (Seriously, guys, our donors are such cool people, and we're so lucky to partner with them. You have no idea.). Follow all of this with the fact that I share a house with nine bright, passionate, talented, and fun-loving people. I have the blessing of engaging in remarkable conversations -- whether in the cubicle or around the kitchen table -- with them every day. Since joining them here, my life has been rich in laughter, challenge, and adventure, and I am so tremendously grateful for that. Add to all of this the rest of my wonderful work community and the endless assortment of interesting (and free!) things to do in DC, and it makes for a lot to be happy about.

Do I want to work development forever? I'm pretty sure that's a no. Do I want to live in DC forever? I don't think so. But am I happy to be here right now? Absolutely. In a season of the year when we think a lot about what we want, I can say that what I have where I am right now is enough -- in fact, it is far more than enough.

So yes, very much alive and loving it!

On a totally different note, I want to put in a plug for Annie Bethancourt, who we hosted for a house show back at the beginning of September. She's really good at what she does, and I can vouch for her being a really cool, down-to-earth person.

Lastly, the interns' headshots are finally up on our staff bios. If you haven't already, go meet my friends (we're at the bottom under the group photo)!

Wishing a happy holiday season to all of you -- and a peaceful post-finals season for those who just weathered the storm (heeeeeeeey CTS people). :) Hope each and every one of you is well!

A monologue about dialogue

Earlier this week, I got to go to an event that hit on two of my favorite interests: music and interfaith. In celebration of 35 years of commitment to interfaith work, the Interfaith Conference of Metropolitan Washington put on a concert combining the musical artistry embedded in eleven different faith traditions. A beautiful, diverse spectrum of people assembled in the Washington Hebrew Congregation's sanctuary. The event began with a series of sacred sounds -- first the shofar (Jewish), then the conch shell (Jain), then the gong (Buddhist), and then finally the azhan (Muslim call to prayer). The audience was hushed, recognizing the transformation of this commonplace gathering into a holy shared space. And it was with that in mind that we ventured forth into the richness of the evening.

I loved it. Loved it. And I want to establish that now before I take a turn in a different direction.

Because something happened that made me want to jump out of my chair in protest.

Our mistress of ceremonies was Greta Kreuz, a well-respected local journalist who originated the religion beat for the DC metro area's ABC station. She has covered a variety of events for a variety of traditions and has been a passionate advocate for interfaith work. After spending a little bit of time commending IFCMW and those who had convened for the event, her talk took on a different spin. Not only was our unity a powerful way of uniting against the social, political, and economic problems of the world, but it was also a source of strength in battling what she deemed to be the biggest problem facing people of faith these days: "non-believers."

I was so stunned that I nearly stood up to let out a "Hold up -- WHAT?!"

Some of my most fruitful conversations about faith have been with people who would categorize themselves as "none" when asked to identify religiously. These are the people who don't guilt me for my doubts, who ask clarifying and refining questions, who push me to articulate what I really believe without slipping into Christian-ese lingo that takes itself for granted but never asks for definition. I don't feel threatened by my non-religious friends; I feel challenged by them. And challenge is healthy.

Not to mention, excluding those folks from the opportunity to talk about faith is entirely against the principles that uphold interfaith dialogue. Interfaith dialogue is about both respecting and transcending lines of difference for the purpose of deepening our understanding of each other. We allow one another to be our distinct selves while also making room for the possibility of collaboration and mutual learning. Where in that model is there room to exclude anyone from the conversation, should they want to join it in that spirit -- even if they aren't religious?

Back in September, my supervisor gifted me with the opportunity to attend a day of the President's Interfaith and Community Service Campus Challenge event at Georgetown University. During my lunch hour, I joined in on an interfaith "speed dialogue," which places interfaith dialogue into speed dating format. I expected to meet people who spanned from Protestant Christianity to Zoroastrianism, from Buddhism to Islam, all clearly identifying with a particular and distinct tradition. Instead, I found myself instead faced with one person after another who identified as secular, atheist, or agnostic. Yet none of them seemed to think any less of me for being a person of faith (let's hope not, at least -- they were at an interfaith event, after all!). They were searching for meaning in their own lives, whether that led them to religion or not, but either way they wanted to understand people of faith more completely. They wanted to be part of the conversation. I deeply respected that.

Welcoming that dialogue will do more to smooth relations between people of faith and people not of faith into something respectful than any belligerent or defensive ideological warfare ever can, and in the process we will find ourselves with a clearer sense of who we are and what we're called to because we've been asked to articulate it. I feel that the greater danger lies in a misled sense of certainty, which often lives in extreme fundamentalism but can sneak in practically everywhere. Our danger, I believe, lies in stopping the search and thinking we have nothing left to learn.

So, Ms. Kreuz, no offense, but I respectfully disagree. However, that won't keep me from dialoguing with you.

Thinking about the future of the church

It's been weeks, I know. I'm sorry. Life has left little time for writing and revising lately, and I'm just starting to reclaim some of my free time for this blog thing that I've committed to. My apologies to those of you who have expected more regular updates.

Not to mention, I've been having a hard time figuring out what to write about. And then tonight's event just fell into my lap (or, more appropriately, into my email inbox and onto my calendar).

Tonight I got the opportunity to attend "Innovating Tradition: A Conversation with Two Urban Pastors on the Future of the Church." The event was held at Calvary Baptist Church in the heart of Washington, DC, and it featured pastor Amy Butler (AB) and special guest Nadia Bolz-Weber (NBW). While the context of the assembly was NBW's book tour, the real centerpiece of the conversation was how church in America must evolve to be a true source of relevant spiritual nourishment in the contemporary world. At the risk of oversimplifying, I want to remark quickly on three major themes I heard:

1. Rigor. People are tired of tough questions being avoided. Everyone theologizes from the conditions of their own lives to their relationship with God, and when life hands them hard questions, pat answers don't do the trick. A rigorous faith is a healthy faith, and a rigorous faith must challenge us to meet the difficult stuff with courage and with the confidence that God enters that deep searching process with us. As NBW would say, "God wasn't looking down on the cross; God was hanging on the cross." Theology needs to be real, to acknowledge and mark human pain and suffering, and it is faithful rigor that helps us to have a robust theology that can meet such challenges with integrity, even if it doesn't meet them with clear answers.

2. Authenticity. Okay, folks, let's be real. Good marketing may get people through the doors of the church, but it's not going to keep them there. And watering things down may appeal to those who don't want to commit, but healthy communities of faith bloom from genuinely sharing in life with each other. Being a "successful" church is not about corporate measurements like numbers and money and extensive programming. It's the "moments of holy grace," in the words of AB, that mark genuine community with an honest sense of who they are, keeping each other company on this messy journey of trying to live into the life Christ calls us to. Let's stop pretending to be who we aren't.

3. Participation. People need to be able to commit to and invest in their faith, and faith communities need to offer opportunities to do that in tangible, meaningful ways. Faith is an active thing when it is real. If Jesus is calling us to a radical way of living, then when we claim Jesus, let's live it. And let's make it so the participation in our communities empowers us to participate in that life outside the church as well. NBW talks about being "anti-excellence, pro-participation." The goal is not to be the best at any of this church stuff; the goal is to be deep into it, actively discerning and engaging. That's what gives church life.

I think we make these three factors into abstract, distant ideas of what we want to the church to look like, but when we actually develop "strategies" for how we want to construct congregational life, we just hope we'll end up getting to these goals eventually if we take care of our other concerns first. We figure they'll be inevitable side effects if we get the "right people" into the pews and the "right music" into the worship service. But we can't compromise these goals for anything less. They're what we need to pursue for our life together as we collectively pursue God, and they illuminate the faithful way forward into living as the Church.

I would love to hear your reflections on this! What would you add to or change about these three key points?

Shutdown Cake and Civil Disobedience

Well, it's official: after only about a month of being in DC, I've already gotten involved in some civil disobedience.

It didn't look like a protest, and no, I wasn't arrested. It was flag football, just a normal church-league match in which I was playing at my usual level of brilliance (on a scale of 1 to 10, that would be a zero). What made it civil disobedience was not what is was, but where. Our originally planned location was claimed by little league baseball, so we moved this past weekend's games to the fields next to the Martin Luther King, Jr., memorial, land that is technically a national park -- and closed due to the shutdown. That is where we ran into trouble.

It was a sunny Saturday, hot for October, and we weren't the only ones out. The lawns around the memorials were full of people, whether they were runners or picketers, and with parking being as limited as it was, our teams were small, so we didn't add very many to their number. But ten minutes from the end of our game, a police car pulled onto the field. "Let's huddle up for a second," called out the officer, and we all gathered round.

"I'm really sorry, guys," he apologized, looking genuinely unhappy to make his announcement, "but because of the government shutdown, you can't be playing on these fields." He agreed to let us finish out our match before we left, and as we thanked him for being so civil about it, a woman on the opposing team chimed in:

"You aren't being paid right now, are you?"

The officer shook his head.

Five minutes later, the police sergeant ripped across our field on his motorcycle and demanded, through our poor officer who so clearly hated to be the bearer of bad news, that we leave the field immediately. So we prayed, and we dispersed.

The thing is, though, I really can't find it in me to complain about that episode. What I can find it in me to complain about are the effects that I'm not having to feel. Sure, I get kicked off my flag football field and can't have a weekend at the Smithsonians, but other people are working without pay, if they're working at all. Furloughed workers are having to figure out how to pay their bills in the absence of income because a self-obsessed Congress with a misplaced conscience finds it necessary to resort to threats and crises to get what they want. Not only were these workers deemed "nonessential," thereby painfully downplaying the value of their work -- they were also effectively told that their welfare wasn't worth protecting.

In the meantime, everyone's reaching for silver linings. We Sojo interns baked ourselves a "shutdown cake" with the philosophy that something good ought to come out of all this (and it was, indeed, very good). Free meals, early happy hours, deferred payment plans, are all ways in which local businesses are trying to pitch in to make life a little easier and less stressful on those folks who are suffering in the shadow of petty politics. The city of DC is doing its best to weather the storm, go on as normally and possible, and dissociate itself from the people here who have made this mess.

And so we continue to wait, doing our best to support each other and sharing the hopes and prayers of Senate Chaplain Barry Black, that our leaders will admit their mistakes and repent of their pride, reclaim reasonableness, and honestly come together for the common good of the country.

For Sojourners's official take on the government shutdown, click here.

Still here

Hey friends. Things have been busy here, between our community retreat, getting into a rhythm at work, and oh yeah, that government shutdown thing, which has been a hot topic of conversation at the office and at home. The shutdown became real and present to us in the thinning out of morning traffic and the aggravated, "enough already!" tension that has charged the air. I think the House needs to learn some basic kindergarten values. This whole make-a-threat-with-far-reaching-consequences-to-get-what-I-want thing is just immature.

I don't really have the time or energy to write a full post right now, but wanted to let you all know that I'm still here and that something new and more thought-filled will be on the way soon.

Undercommitted? Or not.

A few months back, someone told me about a show that was playing at the Alliance Theater called Bike Across America. It presented the story of a young woman embarking on a cross-country journey in search of something that will pull her life together and make it worthwhile. "The play," my friend told me, "really honestly describes the inability of millennials to commit."

I've been thinking about that a lot lately. Am I simply another millennial who refuses to commit? I just began my third consecutive year-long venture since college. Even when I have had the opportunity to stay longer, I haven't. Why is that?

According to the argument, the reason is that people of my generation don't take commitment seriously. I see that judgment in the rolling eyes of a few people who've received the news that I'm off on another escapade to another city doing different work. We millennials don't value commitment, they say. What we value is freedom and selfish mobility. There may be some truth in this theory. It's a complicated pattern, and there are clearly some murky, troubled waters that lie beneath it. But I've come to emphatically disagree that this is the crux of the issue, at least for some of us. What I think may lie at the heart of this "lack of commitment" is that my generation takes commitment very seriously -- so seriously, in fact, that we're stingy about making it happen.

We've seen people make commitments that they regret. We've watched people put themselves in positions that they end up resenting, working jobs they hate, maintaining the hollow shells of relationships that have long since died, and we've decided that we never want to make those mistakes for ourselves. We want to live good, productive, and meaningful lives, and that means battling out hard questions on the ground before we set ourselves on a particular track. We want to make educated choices. We want something that we can throw our whole heart into and commit to with ferocity. Is this lack of commitment? No! It's indicative of restless souls that won't settle for anything less than what feels right. It's indicative of a desire to seriously commit to something with intentionality and passion. The chances of knowing what that something is by the time we graduate from college or even a few years out are pretty slim. We're just getting to know the world and what's in it and how we fit.

The criticism of unsettled millennials also overlooks the stress of these uprooted circumstances. I don't have an income, and it has been a long time since I've become established enough in a place to call it home. I'm still figuring out what is most important to me and how to combine that with what I'm good at. I don't know what's around the corner, and it's scary. Everyone tells soon-to-be college grads just how fun these twentysomething years are going to be, but no one tells them how hard this time is too. It's not a pleasant road to keep ourselves on, and I think many of us would remove ourselves from it in a heartbeat if we felt it was a real, worthwhile option. Yet the difficulty is necessary because, theoretically, this is the road that leads us to where we're supposed to be. It is the means by which we find a place to plug in and be ourselves in the world in a meaningful way.

There will come a time when we really do need to make a long-term decision and commit to it. But that time may not be right now. This is the season in life when we have the liberty and flexibility to discern, which we can't do if we're limiting ourselves to a commitment we're not ready to make. Don't rush us. Commitment for commitment's sake is not a virtue. Committing to the right thing at the right time is. So please, be kind. Give us the time and space to figure that out.

First days

Who knew that I'd move eleven hours north to find hotter weather than I'd encountered all summer in Atlanta?! Seriously, regional weather patterns, you need to do a better job of conforming to my expectations.

But I can't really complain because I'm not out in it much. Why, you ask? Because I've been at work!

Yesterday launched us into our full-time positions, and all ten of us have been busy learning the ropes of our respective roles. Our days have been crammed with meetings, trainings, reading, setups, and more, but I have to say, we are tremendously lucky to have such a supportive environment to ease the transition. The employees of Sojourners, many of whom are pretty new themselves, have welcomed us onto the team with open arms!

Our intern year was inaugurated by the words of Rev. Otis Moss, III, a pastor and social activist and friend of Sojourners who joined us for breakfast yesterday to tell us about his ministries in Chicago. That was quite the inspiring way to begin! Some of us were lucky enough to hear him speak two days in a row, since he'd preached the day prior at Howard University's Sunday chapel. He offered this wisdom, built upon hope and practicality, to all of us Cycle 30 interns: run your leg of the race excellently, then hand off the baton well to the ones who follow you and cheer them on with all your heart. His encouragement reminded me of a prayer of Oscar Romero, excerpted below:

We cannot do everything,

and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something,

and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way,

an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, 

but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders;

ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future that is not our own

It's important to remember that, especially when engaging in the type of work that wants so badly to see the world change in big ways. Burnout is easy when you expect it all to happen quickly, but when you recognize that you're part of a much larger picture, a picture that spans centuries and continents and people of all stripes, it helps to keep the wave toward justice rolling, with momentum and dedication and undying hope.

And that recognition of the great cloud of witnesses has been crucial to getting us oriented to the work ahead of us this year.

While the flurry of transition has been a major focus in the office over the past couple of days, the real focus has been on Syria. For Sojourners's stance on the crisis in Syria, click here. And while it may be a last-minute reminder, don't forget to tune in for President Obama's statement on Syria tonight at 9.

Happy Tuesday, friends!

Getting oriented

       My community...
            ... is enthusiastic!
            ... chips in to help, even when they don't have to.
            ... enjoys watching classic movies (you know, like Space Jam).
            ... laughs a lot! (If you've never played Anomia, you really should.)
            ... welcomes people with joy.
            ... is up early.       ...but maybe only because we have to be.
            ... discusses issues of gender, international politics, and local poverty over dinner.
            ... is committed to prayer, especially praying with each other.
            ... shares, even when it comes to cookies.
            ... is big (ten strong!).
            ... is excited to be here (see below)!

Today the ten of us went to the office for the first time. We were introduced to our supervisors, toured the workspace, and took care of all that good ol' HR business in preparation for our actual start on Monday. The idea that we will actually be working there flooded us with awe and giddiness -- to the point that some ran around snapping photos of their desks and trying out their chairs (one opened a drawer and found himself overwhelmed by the volume of material he'll apparently be getting familiar with in the coming weeks). We know we'll be doing a lot of grunt work, but considering what the organization does, even grunt work becomes excitement-worthy!

This marks the end of our first "week" of DC life together (okay, just three days or so, but there's been enough packed into our days that it feels like a week!). We've talked about community, we've talked about the house, we've talked about security, we've talked about the history of the neighborhood and the organization (more on those later -- and probably adapted from a paper I'll be writing for my SM...), we've gone through handbooks and policies... Yeah, it's been pretty packed. But it's all been important, and I think it's gotten us off on the right foot.

It's been a good week, and a full one. We look forward to tackling this coming year together!

Sorry for the lack of photos. We've been so busy in sessions that nobody's really taken any. But soon we'll all be up on the official website, and when that happens, I'll direct you there to meet the crew.

Everything has been great, but all the same, I'd still like to request your prayers, if I may do so -- not just for myself, but also for my fellow interns and for our supervisors. No matter how wonderful and exciting new things can be, times of transition are still challenging. And for those of you who are comfortable doing so, let me know how I can be praying for you while we're at a distance!

             

Safe and sound!

Hey friends! Just a quick note to let you know that I've arrived safely and gotten settled. My fellow interns are fantastic, and I can't wait to spend this year in community with them! We've laughed a lot together -- I think that bodes well.

Real orientation starts tomorrow. More substantial updates will happen soon... ish.

Ready, set...

After months of anticipation, today's the day I pack up and ship out to DC to begin my internship at Sojourners! I would be lying if I said there wasn't a bit of anxiety clinging to the corners of all my preparations, but that's normal, and with nothing left to do but go, it's all excitement from here. I'm looking forward to meeting my fellow interns and jumping in with both feet!

Before I left Atlanta, a wonderful group of women surrounded me with their love and blessing on my new adventure. I offer up their prayer on behalf of all of us who are in the midst of dislocation/relocation or any other sort of transition right now -- and, while I'm at it, for everyone else too:

May God the Father bless us.

May God the Son heal us.

May God the Holy Spirit enlighten us,
and give us

eyes to see with,

ears to hear with,

hands to do the work of God with,

feet to walk with,

a mouth to preach the word of salvation with,

and the angel of peace to watch over us and lead us at last, by our Lord’s gift, to the Kingdom.

Amen.

Ready, set, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand.... GO!