At my discernment weekend, my committee suggested that I visit about 10 churches other than St. Barnabas before starting seminary. As Steve Marnz said, "You know, don't you, that St. Barnabas is a very special place." They felt I needed to see how the rest of the Anglican Communion did things. So, today I went to Resurrection in West Chicago.
I got there just a few seconds after 10am. The altar party was at the back, so I waited for them to process. Fr. George and I exchanged glances. I'm sure he registered that I was new.
It's not the most beautiful church, but it does the job. At first it wasn't very crowded. I sat near the back in their very comfortable seating. The ceiling is high and the windows are clear-paned. There was a large projection screen on the right with the words of the opening hymn projected. A "choir" stood below -- not robed, standing among the musicians with microphones. They were very energetic and spontaneous. Lots of clapping, swaying, and hands in the air. I found their enthusiasm infectious, although I never got my hands in the air. Before the Gospel, we did a lot of singing. It was quite a buildup.
I noticed several things. Almost no one except the priest made the sign of the cross. I was the only one who crossed him or herself on head, lips, and heart at the Gospel. There was a little kneeling -- on the floor-- but most stood. They did have bells at the consecration though.
I saw Barbara Edgar and we waved at each other. She immediately came to my pew for a hug. She pointed out that Cynthia Bormann with short hair was playing the bongos, but I didn't get to talk with her. Doug Baddorf was there, spoke out as he always does, and it was good to talk with him. Barb introduced me to Fr. George after church. I told him why I was there. She also introduced me to Rebecca, a seminarian who is studying at Northern Baptist in that Anglican Studies program there. She was very nice and enthusiastic about her program, although she said the whole thing is in limbo right now. I wondered to myself what would happen if she's in the "possible break away" group and they decide they don't want women as priests as well as gays and lesbians. It was great to see Barbara Edgar, however, and we'll try to get together soon for breakfast or lunch on a Tuesday.
But more about the service today. I was very moved by it. I don't really like praise music in general, but I like it when the music is something you want to clap and sway to. The sermon was interesting. Fr. George talked about authority in the church. He recounted the history, that bishops are not really hierarchical in scripture, that priests seem to be of the same "rank." He noted that the structure of the Roman Catholic church follows that of the Roman empire and that the Pope is "Caesar." He then showed that the passage in the Bible often used to show we owe obedience to bishops is the only place where "obedience" is the translation for a word used in other places in the Bible that is more often translated "persuasion." His point was that we do not owe obedience to Bishops or anyone else when they are leading us down the wrong path. It certainly sounded like he was preparing the congregation for the coming debate this summer.
At the Prayers of the People, the congregation gathered around the cross and prayed spontaneously. They do it easily and prayed without self-consciousness. The celebration of the Eucharist was de riguer, carefully spoken, and, again, moving. The communion bread was warm, like it had just been baked. They offered grape juice for those who did not want an alcoholic beverage. The children came in just before communion and, in the recessional, several grabbed flags and waved them as we again sang joyously.
It was a good experience and seems like a healthy congregation. I pray they find themselves in agreement with ECUSA come this summer.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Discernment Weekend Recap
My, it's been a long time since I wrote anything. I have to be more religious about this. First, there's the description of the whole discernment weekend. What a ride that was! I arrived at almost the last minute on Friday night, about 7:10. I found out later I could have arrived earlier -- wish I had. I wouldn't have been so frazzled. The Cenacle in Chicago is in the middle of Lincoln Park. An incredible location. It's run now by Loyola as a retreat/meeting house for both religious and secular functions. It's quite nice. The room was retreat house comfortable with a communal bathroom down the hall. It was fine. The only thing I should have brought was a hair dryer.
I got down to the first meeting as the penultimate participant. Everyone was in a huge circle. I was definitely in the older end -- even tho aspirants hadn't been identified as yet. We introduced ourselves by talking about what "we'd left behind." I realized I hadn't left anything behind, so I talked about leaving the 9pm episode of Battlestar Galactica at home -- the only show I stay home to watch. I was the oldest aspirant and our birthdays were actually published on a list. Oh, horror!
We were divided into groups and Elizabeth Molitors and I were in Group C. Rev. Mimi from St. Andrews was the facilitator of my "listeners," but she didn't remember me from being at her table at Cursillo. We did a get-to-know-you exercise and wrote questions in our small group for everyone to answer. We then each picked two questions. I got, "Are you a cat or a dog person?" I talked about Keiko and Sophia and how I had to get rid of them because of "my grandson's allergy." I decided to be right up front about grandchildren and age. Not hide anything in hope people would think me younger than I am. The second question asked me about my favorite high school subject. I said "French," and told the story of our class trip to the Guepratte, the French destroyer at Navy Pier. Soeur Jeanne Louise took about 16 of us in our school uniforms to improve our French with the pompomed French sailors, all about 2 years older than us. (What was she thinking!) We got there as they were finishing lunch: tomatoes, onions, bread, cheese, and wine. We communicated just fine and then paired off to show our sailors the city after Sister had departed. I walked around with Jean-Paul Blanche and then said goodbye to him in the Randolph St. IC station with lots of kisses and lots of disapproving stares. It was 1963.
We went to bed after a cocktail hour. The next morning we had breakfast and morning prayer, then a role play where an assistant rector had to deal with an irate vestry upset about their alcoholic rector and his hushed up divorce. I played an irate vestry member. In a later role play with our small group, I was the rector of a church with a rich parishioner who was responsible for 40% of the operating budget. She wanted to build and fund a new building, but others were against it. It was a fascinating exercise as I found myself trying to find a common ground and doing my best to listen to the issues of both sides very sympathetically.
Then, the visits with "listeners" started. I had a bye the first hour. In the second I met with the lay listener, Galen Berqwardt. I later learned he was a U of C Biz School professor. I was a bit intimidated by him, but soon relaxed and got him laughing. His questions were good. All my listeners' questions were good. They'd obviously done their homework and read my materials carefully. They were quite interested in what I saw myself doing for the church and where I saw my ministry going. The night before, one of the leaders had emphasized the need for tentmaker ministries. I could speak to that issue easily as I've always seen myself as everything other than a parish priest.
My second listener was Rosemary Gooden, who is an adjunct professor at Seabury. We ended up talking about 20 minutes past the time I was supposed to switch to my third interview. I just enjoyed her so much. She was interested in my dissertation and said she looked forward to having me in class. We talked about race issues as well. A very good discussion.
Fr. Steve Marnz was my psychological listeners -- a shortened interview since I had talked so long with Rosemary. Elizabeth told me he was a Jungian, which was just fine with me. He asked me to talk about a time in my life when I failed at something, to talk about how I reacted to it, what I did to deal with it, and how it changed the way I did things going forward. Of course, I talked about my divorce. It was another good discussion.
My last discussion, with Fr. Jay Risk, was the toughest. He didn't display emotion or let his feelings be known. He was the first person to mention my age and ask me what had taken so long. I told him I thought everything was happening at the right time, that it couldn't really have happened sooner (especially with my medical issues being cleared up). He said he didn't buy that, but I was never able to convince him. I also told him that, perhaps it wasn't the right thing to feel, but that I was really enjoying the day. It was downright fun. I also told him that all along in my discernment process, I had asked that if my age made a difference, I wanted to know. I didn't want to waste my time or anyone else's. Everyone said it wasn't a problem. I told Jay that if it suddenly was a problem, I was going to be really annoyed. I didn't mean it as any kind of threat, but I wanted to make it clear how I felt about it.
After the last interview, we went to dinner. Afterwards, we had one final 15 minute interview with all our listeners and Mimi. I was last. I came to the floor where the interview was scheduled and found everyone on my team except one person, who was in with the listeners. Her interview was taking a very long time. She seemed a bit upset when she finally came out. They then ran through the rest of the interviews quickly. They asked me where I got my glasses and my spider pin and then asked me my three strengths and three weaknesses. I told the story of the identification of my gifts in EfM and listed what others saw in me: Pastoral, Preaching, and Faith gifts. I was actually wrong about Preaching. I think it was Teaching they actually identified, but I was loupy by that time. We were all physically wasted as the adrenalin stopped pumping and we were almost done for the night. I can't remember what I said for weaknesses, but I remember something about paying attention to the details and judging people too easily.
It was almost impossible to go to sleep that night. I got up and found Elizabeth's door open. We talked for about a half hour about our mutual jitters and then went to bed.
In the morning, we had Mass and breakfast and then all 14 of the aspirants sat together in a circle with our chaplain, Fr. Brian. It was an odd situation at best. We had all talked about how the whole weekend had been like a reality show. Now, who was going to be voted off the island? Brian said he assumed all of us had a pretty good idea where we stood with our listeners. We looked at him in amazement. All of us were clueless.
They started to call us out one by one. I realized I would be last in our group to go -- the first person in our group was out for 45 minutes -- she still had not returned when several of the others had come back with good news. Only one person came back with middling news -- he'd been asked to wait a couple of years and try again. Finally, I was called. I tried to read their faces, but was unsuccessful. Galen started to speak: "Well, I've been asked to be the spokesperson for the group, to collect our thoughts and give them to you." My heart sank. This didn't sound good. Then he said, "First, before I tell you our decision, I want you to know that we all really enjoyed talking with you. It was really delightful." Again, my heart hit the floor. I'd given too many performance reviews sounding just like this. Then he said, "We are recommending that you go forward on the path you are pursuing." "OK," I thought, "What the . . .?" I said, "Does that mean that you are oking me going to seminary in the fall and studying to be a priest?" The answer was "Yes" and I whooped out loud. I don't remember what I said then, but for some reason they all agreed they should put me forward as a bishop instead of a priest. We had a good laugh.
When I came back to the room, I whooped again and we all celebrated. I went home and had a congratulatory committee that came over to celebrate with me: Fr. Matt, his wife Leslie, Peg, Georgia, Lisa, Priscilla, and, most lovely of all, Junko, Max, Eli, Pete, and Tony. The latter two were also there for the SuperBowl.
I got down to the first meeting as the penultimate participant. Everyone was in a huge circle. I was definitely in the older end -- even tho aspirants hadn't been identified as yet. We introduced ourselves by talking about what "we'd left behind." I realized I hadn't left anything behind, so I talked about leaving the 9pm episode of Battlestar Galactica at home -- the only show I stay home to watch. I was the oldest aspirant and our birthdays were actually published on a list. Oh, horror!
We were divided into groups and Elizabeth Molitors and I were in Group C. Rev. Mimi from St. Andrews was the facilitator of my "listeners," but she didn't remember me from being at her table at Cursillo. We did a get-to-know-you exercise and wrote questions in our small group for everyone to answer. We then each picked two questions. I got, "Are you a cat or a dog person?" I talked about Keiko and Sophia and how I had to get rid of them because of "my grandson's allergy." I decided to be right up front about grandchildren and age. Not hide anything in hope people would think me younger than I am. The second question asked me about my favorite high school subject. I said "French," and told the story of our class trip to the Guepratte, the French destroyer at Navy Pier. Soeur Jeanne Louise took about 16 of us in our school uniforms to improve our French with the pompomed French sailors, all about 2 years older than us. (What was she thinking!) We got there as they were finishing lunch: tomatoes, onions, bread, cheese, and wine. We communicated just fine and then paired off to show our sailors the city after Sister had departed. I walked around with Jean-Paul Blanche and then said goodbye to him in the Randolph St. IC station with lots of kisses and lots of disapproving stares. It was 1963.
We went to bed after a cocktail hour. The next morning we had breakfast and morning prayer, then a role play where an assistant rector had to deal with an irate vestry upset about their alcoholic rector and his hushed up divorce. I played an irate vestry member. In a later role play with our small group, I was the rector of a church with a rich parishioner who was responsible for 40% of the operating budget. She wanted to build and fund a new building, but others were against it. It was a fascinating exercise as I found myself trying to find a common ground and doing my best to listen to the issues of both sides very sympathetically.
Then, the visits with "listeners" started. I had a bye the first hour. In the second I met with the lay listener, Galen Berqwardt. I later learned he was a U of C Biz School professor. I was a bit intimidated by him, but soon relaxed and got him laughing. His questions were good. All my listeners' questions were good. They'd obviously done their homework and read my materials carefully. They were quite interested in what I saw myself doing for the church and where I saw my ministry going. The night before, one of the leaders had emphasized the need for tentmaker ministries. I could speak to that issue easily as I've always seen myself as everything other than a parish priest.
My second listener was Rosemary Gooden, who is an adjunct professor at Seabury. We ended up talking about 20 minutes past the time I was supposed to switch to my third interview. I just enjoyed her so much. She was interested in my dissertation and said she looked forward to having me in class. We talked about race issues as well. A very good discussion.
Fr. Steve Marnz was my psychological listeners -- a shortened interview since I had talked so long with Rosemary. Elizabeth told me he was a Jungian, which was just fine with me. He asked me to talk about a time in my life when I failed at something, to talk about how I reacted to it, what I did to deal with it, and how it changed the way I did things going forward. Of course, I talked about my divorce. It was another good discussion.
My last discussion, with Fr. Jay Risk, was the toughest. He didn't display emotion or let his feelings be known. He was the first person to mention my age and ask me what had taken so long. I told him I thought everything was happening at the right time, that it couldn't really have happened sooner (especially with my medical issues being cleared up). He said he didn't buy that, but I was never able to convince him. I also told him that, perhaps it wasn't the right thing to feel, but that I was really enjoying the day. It was downright fun. I also told him that all along in my discernment process, I had asked that if my age made a difference, I wanted to know. I didn't want to waste my time or anyone else's. Everyone said it wasn't a problem. I told Jay that if it suddenly was a problem, I was going to be really annoyed. I didn't mean it as any kind of threat, but I wanted to make it clear how I felt about it.
After the last interview, we went to dinner. Afterwards, we had one final 15 minute interview with all our listeners and Mimi. I was last. I came to the floor where the interview was scheduled and found everyone on my team except one person, who was in with the listeners. Her interview was taking a very long time. She seemed a bit upset when she finally came out. They then ran through the rest of the interviews quickly. They asked me where I got my glasses and my spider pin and then asked me my three strengths and three weaknesses. I told the story of the identification of my gifts in EfM and listed what others saw in me: Pastoral, Preaching, and Faith gifts. I was actually wrong about Preaching. I think it was Teaching they actually identified, but I was loupy by that time. We were all physically wasted as the adrenalin stopped pumping and we were almost done for the night. I can't remember what I said for weaknesses, but I remember something about paying attention to the details and judging people too easily.
It was almost impossible to go to sleep that night. I got up and found Elizabeth's door open. We talked for about a half hour about our mutual jitters and then went to bed.
In the morning, we had Mass and breakfast and then all 14 of the aspirants sat together in a circle with our chaplain, Fr. Brian. It was an odd situation at best. We had all talked about how the whole weekend had been like a reality show. Now, who was going to be voted off the island? Brian said he assumed all of us had a pretty good idea where we stood with our listeners. We looked at him in amazement. All of us were clueless.
They started to call us out one by one. I realized I would be last in our group to go -- the first person in our group was out for 45 minutes -- she still had not returned when several of the others had come back with good news. Only one person came back with middling news -- he'd been asked to wait a couple of years and try again. Finally, I was called. I tried to read their faces, but was unsuccessful. Galen started to speak: "Well, I've been asked to be the spokesperson for the group, to collect our thoughts and give them to you." My heart sank. This didn't sound good. Then he said, "First, before I tell you our decision, I want you to know that we all really enjoyed talking with you. It was really delightful." Again, my heart hit the floor. I'd given too many performance reviews sounding just like this. Then he said, "We are recommending that you go forward on the path you are pursuing." "OK," I thought, "What the . . .?" I said, "Does that mean that you are oking me going to seminary in the fall and studying to be a priest?" The answer was "Yes" and I whooped out loud. I don't remember what I said then, but for some reason they all agreed they should put me forward as a bishop instead of a priest. We had a good laugh.
When I came back to the room, I whooped again and we all celebrated. I went home and had a congratulatory committee that came over to celebrate with me: Fr. Matt, his wife Leslie, Peg, Georgia, Lisa, Priscilla, and, most lovely of all, Junko, Max, Eli, Pete, and Tony. The latter two were also there for the SuperBowl.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
A Certain Lack of Focus
Here I am, two days after learning I'm going to seminary. I'm getting stuff done, but there is a "certain lack of focus" which is making this whole thing still a little unreal. There's a lot up in the air. The biggest question is whether or not I will live at Northwestern and how I will finance that. Will I sell my house to have all that extra cash? Do I put my things in storage or sell them too -- or give them away? I know I have time to make these decisions and I'm getting the application to Seabury tomorrow and signing up for the Campus visit in early April. I'll be seeing Matt, my parish priest, soon and we'll talk all this over. That will certainly bring more questions into focus. I'll also talk with my tax accountant in a few weeks. That will be great information to add to this discussion.
This is a lot like deciding to go to DeKalb in 1975 to get our graduate degrees. Friends thought we were gutsy then! Wow, this is absolutely insane gutsy. Virginia Theological Seminary and University of Chicago have both been suggested to me as alternatives to Seabury, but I don't think so. Virginia would mean moving my Dad along with me, living near Karen (which would be nice), and being away from Pete and family, a definitely difficult choice. Chicago is a great school academically. It would be challenging and intellectually stimulating, but, do I think that at this point in my life I need a warmer atmosphere where attention is paid to formation and where I can be integral to the life of the seminary. Seabury makes a lot more sense -- even tho it is really expensive. $60K to $100K they say. But, I'm not going to worry about this. I'm going to enjoy this process. Every day of it.
This is a lot like deciding to go to DeKalb in 1975 to get our graduate degrees. Friends thought we were gutsy then! Wow, this is absolutely insane gutsy. Virginia Theological Seminary and University of Chicago have both been suggested to me as alternatives to Seabury, but I don't think so. Virginia would mean moving my Dad along with me, living near Karen (which would be nice), and being away from Pete and family, a definitely difficult choice. Chicago is a great school academically. It would be challenging and intellectually stimulating, but, do I think that at this point in my life I need a warmer atmosphere where attention is paid to formation and where I can be integral to the life of the seminary. Seabury makes a lot more sense -- even tho it is really expensive. $60K to $100K they say. But, I'm not going to worry about this. I'm going to enjoy this process. Every day of it.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Discernment Weekend Results
Well, I'm officially on my way to being a postulant and a seminarian this fall. It was wild, intense discernment weekend I was on. I'm really exhuasted today. I think I'm suffering from adrenalin depletion. I'm still flying pretty high. Time to sort it all out. First, I'm surprised how much I enjoyed the weekend. I thought it would be dreadful from all the reports I'd received about past weekends. People were often "destroyed by what the listeners said to them." It sounded as if experiences could be horribly humiliating.
I drove to the Cenacle in Lincoln Park Friday night and managed to get lost a little, taking the wrong turn away from Fullerton, but my usual good sense of direction guided me home. The Cenacle was nice. Rooms were clean and quiet. The bed, of course, was horrible, but that's de riguer.
I was one of the last people to make it to the session. Although many of the staff were my age, all the aspirants were younger by at least 5 years and, in other cases, many more years. But, I was cool. Lots of gay and lesbian people. More than I expected. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Seriously, a lot of people, when asked what they had left behind, mentioned partners. It was a great group.
I drove to the Cenacle in Lincoln Park Friday night and managed to get lost a little, taking the wrong turn away from Fullerton, but my usual good sense of direction guided me home. The Cenacle was nice. Rooms were clean and quiet. The bed, of course, was horrible, but that's de riguer.
I was one of the last people to make it to the session. Although many of the staff were my age, all the aspirants were younger by at least 5 years and, in other cases, many more years. But, I was cool. Lots of gay and lesbian people. More than I expected. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Seriously, a lot of people, when asked what they had left behind, mentioned partners. It was a great group.
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