But seriously folks....

I’ve been a little off-hand in some of my posts, and I just wanted to assure everyone that I know this calling is serious stuff. I did grow up in a serious Catholic Church, Our Mother of Sorrows, so I know about being serious. If that’s not a serious name to be under for all of one’s formative years, I don’t want to know the name of the church that could beat it.

Last week’s Gospel reading was about God’s call to Mary. And during his sermon, Fr. Charlie spoke about how Mary took her call so seriously and without any ducking around it. So many of the people in the Bible who got calls said things like, “Hey, I’m not the guy for this job,” or, “Are you really serious?” in the lingo of their day. Only Mary says that she will do God’s will without so much as a shrug or a look to see if she was the one being spoken to. Sometimes I’ve thought that if a talking bush or cloud or an angel would show up for me, it would make things so much easier. In fact, that is one of the funniest things to me about the Old Testament. One character asks God to perform three tasks to make sure that it’s really God’s voice he’s hearing. It would be akin to me hearing a voice coming through my ceiling and my saying, “Okay, if you’re really God, when I get home from work, I expect the carpet to be vacuumed,” and when I get home, the place is spotless. Then, I say, “Okay, so just to make sure, when I get tomorrow, I want this place to look like about 15 dogs had a shedding party,” and behold, my house is covered in fur the next evening. But then I’m stuck with a mess, so I ask one more time for God to vacuum, and He does. As if the whole voice from above wasn’t enough, I now have a really clean house. How could anyone doubt that voice as God’s?

Anyway, this call is serious partially because we don’t have so many burning bushes, voices from clouds or people with wings sprouting from their shoulders showing up at our doors. I really have to listen, and I need others to listen with me. This isn’t a voice we can all hear when we just light some candles, sit really quietly and stop breathing. This is the same voice that we all ask for when we need something. And we’ve all seen the bumper sticker that reads, “If you’re not hearing an answer to your prayers, the answer might be, ‘No’.” But a call isn’t a yes or no question. There’s no divining rod, Ouija board or Magic 8 Ball to consult.

But this is also magic, in the best sense. It’s mystical, spiritual, and awe-some. And right now it’s Christmas, a season full of those very qualities. People who never pray, never go to church, never think about God, hear bells ringing that ask them to help those who are less fortunate, and they give what they can. People who don’t think of themselves as spiritual have their breath taken away by the beauty of a world awash in sparkling white. People who don’t usually attend worship take time out to go, if only for tradition’s sake, but their hearts might swell with the glory of a baby being born who will save the world. A baby saving the world. A person. Someone who smelled like babies do, who squirmed and gurgled and had those funny crossed eyes babies have. Someone whose mother loved him and rocked him and fed him at her breast. Someone whose father looked down at him and marveled that something so small could be so strong. Someone who would hear stories about men traveling over the country to come see him when he was born, stories about a magical star over his birthplace, just like we hear stories about ourselves as babies, only without strangers showing up with really expensive presents, I’m guessing.

So please, during this time of magic and wonder, fill your heart with a child-like sense of God’s love. Listen for that quiet voice that tells you of that love. Pray that others might hear it too. Pray for me, and know that I’ll be praying for you.

Serving on the Altar

Deacon Debby had suggested that I start serving on the altar to get used to being up there. So about a month ago I asked Fr. Charlie to get me some training and start using me up there. He was thrilled since we haven’t had new people serving at the altar in a long time. He got the two regulars together and went through some training.

The training was pretty basic. We walked through a service and I processed the cross, held it again for the reading of the Gospel, went through the motions of the Eucharist, and processed back out. The most difficult part is serving at the Eucharist. There’s a lot that goes on there.

Just as an aside, what happens at the altar wasn’t a complete mystery to me, but it wasn’t very familiar either. I grew up in the Catholic Church before them time girls were allowed to be altar servers. The phrase “altar server” wasn’t even an option since there were only altar boys. And really, during the Offertory when all the moving around is going on up there, there are a lot of things to distract us folks in the congregation. We’re singing, passing the plate, watching the ushers go by, finding our places in the books, all sorts of things. And I can only focus on what’s close around me. This is why when I started driving at 16 I couldn’t find my way around the city I had spent my whole life in. Sitting in the passenger or back seats, I was looking at stores, mountains, cars, annoying my sister, singing along to the radio. I had to ask my mom how to get to the mall after I got my license. This is why I was a little clueless with the whole Communion dance.

And really, it’s like a square dance when you’re up there, only there’s no caller. You have to know when to be beside the altar and when you need to sit behind it. You need to follow cues to know when to go get the cross, when to put the book on the altar, what to grab next. And the whole serving Communion is a dance all in itself with the priest, two people with chalices and then the people lining up at the altar.

So my first service, I just followed. There was a twist since we had an extra person carrying the brass incense burner. I got to follow him and carry the silver jam jar of incense crystals. (I’m sure there’s a name for the silver jam jar, but I haven’t learned it yet.) And John, the incense guy, hadn’t been on the altar in a long time, so we kept bumping into each other since I was following him and he didn’t always know where to go. But I made it through the readings and the Sign of Peace just fine. Then Fr. Charlie asked me to help with the table, which I wasn’t expecting.

It’s not hard to serve at the table, but there is an order to things which should look serious, reverential and coordinated. I can do serious and reverential for the most part, but I’m so not to the coordinated part. Fr. Charlie kept having to direct me, and I kept forgetting to bow after each transfer. Priest hands me wine carafe, we bow. Priest hands me the host holder (again, I know it has a name), we bow. So Charlie would bow, and then I would hesitate and bow. It probably looked a lot like someone visiting China and being a little awkward with a new cultural handshake. But again, I know not many people out in the audience are paying attention, so I think I’m safe.

Then, I got to pass the chalice. Here’s the list of warnings I got about giving people wine:

· DO NOT let go of the chalice, even if the person holds it to their lips.
· say “The Blood of Christ” before offering the wine for people to drink.
· say “The Body and Blood of Christ” for people who are “Dippers”
· for people who are “Dippers” (the right word is “tincture” I know that one) hold the cup low enough that they can see what they are doing.
· some people want you to dip the host and put it on their tongue
· some people don’t want any wine, in which case they will either cross their arms over their chests, shake their heads, or hiss and cross their eyes (well, maybe not the last part)
· after someone takes a drink, wipe the edge, turn the chalice a ¼ turn, and move to the next person.
· after everyone has finished, do not slug the remains. Put the chalice either back on the Credence table or on the altar depending on which chalice you get. The Altar Guild get first dibs on whatever wine is left.

I think I did okay. I didn’t spill anything, said the right things, didn’t trip over Fr. Charlie as he went back and forth, and no one hissed at me.

Then, we made it through the clean-up and I did okay putting everything back as Fr. Charlie finished up. I processed just fine. I just forgot it was my job to put out the candles on the altar, but it got taken care of.

Since that first time, I’ve been on the altar a couple of more times, even when the Canon to the Ordinary came to visit a couple of weeks ago. And I guess I did well enough that Fr. Charlie is going to put me n a regular rotation and give others a break from serving. It’s wonderful taking part more fully and up-close at the mystery of the Eucharist, and I just have to keep reminding myself that no one “out there” is watching for me to mess up. But I can see them during the sermon from my perch up at the altar. And if anyone falls asleep, I’ll know. So be careful you’re looking attentive out there… I’m in control of the wine….

Update

Sorry I've been away from here! The end of the semester is always hectic with grading, panicking students, end-of-the-semester projects, and getting ready for the upcoming semester.

But exciting things are happening in my discernment process. Fr. Charlie has the discernment group together and we're finding times and days when we can all meet. We'll start in January and meet once a month or so. The first three meetings are trainings with two "shepherds," and then the shepherds leave us to the work, which can go for as little as three months and as long as six-nine months. We'll be working together to make sure I'm on the right path. We might decide that the call is really just to keep doing what I'm doing, to be priest, or to keep going with the deacon thing.

The holidays are coming, and I've got a lot on my plate, but really, it's a feast and a party! And since I always go back for seconds at real buffets, chances are I'll be that with a metaphorical one as well!

Love to you all, and please pray for me and the whole discernment group.

Trepidation

What is there to get all freaked out about? It's not like I have to take a vow of chastity, poverty, sign a form giving all my earthly goods to the church, or sell my pets. Why all the fuss? Here's a list of my fears about this journey, both before talking to Deacon Debby and still persisting.


1. I don't have the time.


This is a big one. Becoming a deacon means a pretty big investment of time. First, I have to go through discernment, which means several meetings over a series of months. Well, okay, I have lots of meetings already, so what's one more? Plus, this will focus on God's call to me, so it's not like sitting through a budget meeting or a student judicial hearing where I know that student is just biding his time and doesn't think he has any blame in whatever trouble he got it. Ooops. I started channeling "Professor LaTour" there. Sorry.


After the discernment meetings, if I move forward, I have to start getting some deacon education. That means giving up every other Saturday for a few years, plus some weekend retreats. Ouch. I just finished a low-residency MFA that took two years and sucked away time. Can I do it again? If I did it once, I suppose I can.


What about after I'm a deacon? How much time then? I'll pretty much do what I'm doing now, with a little more focus and purpose. Deacons are ordained, but "of the world" so they function in both places. I'll still serve on committees. I'll still visit people who can't leave their homes. I'll still be at church every Sunday. And I'll still be a professor. but who knows knows what else?



Verdict: Trepidation EASED



2. My husband, who I love, isn't the church type.


Paul is a super guy. He's into sports, writing, movies, indie music, trips into Chicago, and me. He's been open to adopting abused chihuahuas, putting up with my annoying cockatiels, my venting about students, and my going back to get another Master's degree. He even comes to church with me sometimes. But he's not really the church type and has some issues with the whole idea of church. If you read my first posting, you'll know I had some issues with church stuff in my life. Growing up Catholic meant that we went to church and were active volunteering. But my mom used birth control. And I was not a nice kid so I went to confession, I was pretty much lying that I was sorry for my sins. And let's not go into the whole sex-abuse scandal. I wasn't abused, but friends of mine were.



I brought up Paul when I first talked to Deacon Debby. She pointed out that my growth in the Holy Spirit is apt to help Paul more than hurt him. And if he's half as cool as I made him out to be, he'll hang with me through this. I get a lot of comfort from the passage about a wife with an unbelieving husband. In Paul's First letter to the Corinthians he says," And a woman who has a husband who does not believe, if he is willing to live with her, let her not divorce him. For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife" (verse 13).



However, for whatever issues Paul has with "church," he likes Trinity and really likes the people there. And he's being supportive of this whole "calling" thing. And I think he might find those collars kinda sexy. But probably not.



Verdict: Trepidation EASED

3. There is not any compensation for this.

I know this may look like a really, really shallow trepidation, but we all know about the connection to money and time. And you know I'm a teacher. Teachers don't make the big bucks. And I'm a poet. Poets can only dream of big bucks. I get asked to be a featured reader at several open mics around Chicago every year. For my 20 minutes of reading and hour and half drive, I make about $40. I had to pay some money up front to get a book published and while I've made that money back plus some, it didn't even make a car payment. So I know a lot about doing things for the love of it and not for the cash.

However, being a deacon can be like a part time job on top of whatever job the deacon already has. And that whole "in the world" thing is pretty serious. Deacons don't get full time deacon jobs like priests do. So whatever extra roles I take on in this journey are just that, extra. Please refer to trepidation #1. But also look at my answer for that one.

Verdict: Trepidation EASED

4. This will change me and I don't know exactly how.

Ah, the fear of the unknown. We're surrounded by this right now. What will the stock market do next? Will gas prices stay low? How will Obama do as President? Will Krispy Kreme still be open on my way to church on Sunday?

But self-change is even more frightening. And as you learn about me, you'll know that I'm a little on the edge of normalcy, so change can be even weirder. What if I get more weird? What if I start acting normal? As a case in point, when I met the Bishop of Chicago, Bishop Jeff Lee, when he came to our church this summer, I greeted him with a loud and excited, "HEY BISH! Nice to see ya!" My husband rolled his eyes, and Fr. Charlie was a little taken aback. I think that may have been because he had asked me to entertain Bishop Lee's wife Lisa that afternoon. "Dear Lord, please don't let Kristin frighten Lisa," might have been going through his head.

What if I stop being this strange quirky person I've become? What if I become all studious and holy and have a light glow about me all the time? How will I go shopping? How will I drive at night? Will my students get a glare off the white board?

Verdict: Trepidation EASED (I'm going to stay strange.)

5. I don't need to be a deacon.

I'm doing my part in church and that won't change if I'm a deacon. I can still visit people who are sick or homebound. I can still serve on committees. In fact, I don't think Trinity will let me go back to not participating as I did the first few months I was getting to know everyone. I'll still be a teacher and God's light in a secular place. I'll still pray for my students, my fellow faculty and other people. So why do this?

This comes to the difference between wants and needs. My mom was big on saying, "You don't need that, you just want it." I have this problem in other areas of my life as well, the problem of distinguishing between wants and needs. For example, I've been losing weight. Paul will point out that my pants don't fit so well. So I wear a belt. I don't need new pants nor do I want new pants.. But really, there's a point at which putting a belt on won't fix things. I'll need new pants. I still won't want them, but I'll need them.

So this isn't necessarily a call that I want. I'm fine and dandy. Right as rain. Good as gold. Wonderful. I don't want to change a bunch of things in life or add complications. I have enough already. but this little voice keeps calling to me, either in my heart or from other people. "Why not become a deacon, or at least give it a shot?" I don't have a good answer. So maybe this is a need. A real call. Hmmm...

Verdict: Trepidation CONTINUES. . .

Discernment

So how did this whole deacon thing come about? Well, I was happily serving as lector and as a substitute short stop on the church softball team when I was beamed by a line drive in the knee... Oh wait, wrong story. But that's a good story too, if you like swearing and big purple bruises.

But playing softball was one of the clues that maybe being a deacon is where I need to be. I've always been active in the churches I've been a part of. I've taught Sunday school (which is so NOT my calling), been on altar guild, and I've lectored since I was in high school at the big Catholic Church I grew up in. But then, in 2005, Trinity Church hired a new priest. Fr. Charlie DeKay is not the kind of priest Trinity was used to. We had had the same priest for 30+ years and had grown, well...let's say accustomed to the way things had developed. In other words, it was a little stagnant. But hiring a new young priest, who came with a young wife and three small children, changed all that. We didn't have a Sunday school when I came to Trinity, or a softball team, or a Worship Committee, or a wheelchair ramp, or any other number of things. Let's just say that the Holy Spirit is now flying so fast around Trinity that you almost get knocked over on the way to the bake sale table. It's cool!

But having a new priest meant other changes too. We try new things. One of the new things was the Worship team, which I was asked to serve as a member. When we lost our chairperson, I felt called to step in. I've learned about liturgy and hymns and other aspects of our service I hadn't known about. But it lead Fr. Charlie to ask me to deliver Morning Prayer one morning this past summer. I even got to give the sermon. I was moved by the Holy Spirit and the congregation enjoyed my talk. This was the first time someone from Trinity came up to me and said, "Kristin, you should be a deacon." Okaaaayyy.... Then, during our softball games this summer, I was asked to lead the pre-game prayer a couple of times. Someone else came up to and said, "Hey Kristin, you should be a deacon." Now, this was getting disconcerting. I am fine just as I am. Right?

But I started praying about it. And God started to remind me of little things that had happened early in my life that I had forgotten about that reminded me of earlier calls. And I prayed some more. And then, with a little apprehension, I approached Fr. Charlie one morning after services. "I'm thinking about being a deacon," I said, probably with a look that said something like, "and I'm not sure what to think about this whole thing because it's really, really freakin' me out." But Fr. Charlie seemingly ignored the look on my face, started to beam and glow and then hugged me. So I guess he was excited. I wasn't yet.

Fr. Charlie hooked me up with a deacon he's friends with, Debby Harrington, and we did lunch. She answered all my questions, and every trepidation I had, she soothed. By the time we were done chatting and eating, she was possibly more excited for me than Fr. Charlie had been. So now the ball is really rolling. I'm not sure it's picking up too much momentum yet, but it's definitely leaving a path in the grass.

Either I'm really blessed, or I'm hearing voices. I'm going with the blessed thing. Yup. That's grace for ya!

Starting Out

Hello!

My spiritual journey has been going on for many, many years, but I'm on a new fork in the proverbial road. I'm hoping that with this online journal, I'll help others who are discerning their own paths, and maybe even illuminate my own. Writing is a big part of my life. I teach essay writing as an English professor, and I also teach literature. I write poetry. I listen to music, especially to the lyrics. Words surround me. So I'll be attempting to imbue my journey with words as I reflect on changes, challenges and the joys of my walk with God. I hope you'll join me and add to my insight, and maybe to your own!

As a starting point, I'll share some basics about my life that I plan to elaborate on later. I'll work backwards and see how that goes. I'm a member of Trinity Episcopal Church in Aurora, IL. It's a small-ish church that is growing and changing. I've been here since Christmastime 2004. In fact, I remember my first day with the week before the first Sunday in advent, and I stayed for a brunch served to the members who decorated the church after services. I talked and talked to our then priest, Fr. Burden, and was really taken in. I've been here ever since! I'm on the Worship team, serving at the altar, serving as a lector, and doing lots and lots of other projects. I love it!

Before I came to Trinity, I was a member in churches in Copperas Cove, TX and Duluth, MN. I was active in those congregations too. I came to the Episcopal Church in Duluth through St. Paul's church, and was received into the church in 1996.

Before joining the Episcopal Church in Duluth, I stayed out of church altogether while I was in college. I was discerning what I wanted and didn't want in a church family. You'll see why...

My first church was Our Mother of Sorrows Catholic Church in Tucson, AZ. I was baptised there as an infant, went to school there from Kindergarten through 8th grade, received First Holy Communion, the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and Confirmation. I can still recite even lesser-known prayers like "Hail Holy Queen," thanks to the nuns and lay teachers during those nine years of education. My parents were active in the church and regularly gave of their paychecks to help the church. They showed me what it meant to be a full member of a church family. But they separated and divorced when I was in high school and were effectively banished from that family. It caused me a lot of confusion and sent me searching for a family that I could more fully trust and invest my life in.

In future posts, I'll explore how this past has colored my present life and where I'm headed. I think I'm in for a bit of a roller coaster ride, so I'm currently trying to locate that bar that can hold me in my seat. Is it behind me or what???