Cana's prayer request

Today Cana and I went to MisKnits (a WONDERFUL new yarn/knitting/sitting place to knit store at 39th and Terrace....Amber is the owner!) and worked on winter hats to provide for the homeless. She is working on some community service hours and she wanted me to go with her on this venture, since she had not been in to knit there before, so I crocheted hats, too. As we were hurriedly getting ready to go---it has been a busy day for me with a good pastors' meeting this a.m. and lunch with one of my pastors---Cana said to me, sort of out of the blue, "Mom, I think it would be good if you would pray for Amy Winehouse and her husband." I then asked about them---somehow I have missed the macabre photos on line over the last couple of days, although I did know about the addictions---and I told her I would pray for them. I love Amy Winehouse's music---something original and familiar at the same time. And sadly real and very human. Cana loves her too,and she knows I do. And she, who sometimes wonders aloud about what she believes and doesn't believe, asked me to pray for them. I will.

Sucking up (like a vacuum)

All right, I could not resist this. Bishop Schnase spoke on the 5 practices twice in my district today---at Platte Woods and then at Good Shepherd. Because I had a charge conference elsewhere, I conly made it for 10 minutes of PW, but for almost all of GS. . I heard him use an analogy I had not heard before (I sure hope it's not in the book and I forget that I had read it). He says that society, during the 50s, acted like a dump truck for the church....all the people would be swept up (or dumped in? I guess) and dumped out on our church lawn. Those of us who remember American civil religion remember when sports practice was never on Sunday and blue laws. Church was the place everybody went. Now, says rs, society is like a vacuum cleaner...sticks its hose in the church door and sucks all the folks out. This was tongue in cheek of course (I laughed loudly....somehow it REALLY struck me as humorous...after a day of being present at two good worship services at Odessa and Grace: Higginsville, and a good-spirited charge conference at Blue Springs about money and buildings, and a brief appearance at Platte Woods...it might have been some tired laughter but I still want to hoot about this analogy). Hmmm, something to think about.

DS Mojo???

There are some interesting developments in the Cox-Johnson world, and in my ministry of late. My son is now an upperclassman, having begun his junior year today; my daughter did not begin school today since she graduated from high school, but will be taking one class at a community college up the road; the biggest development in her life is Ben, a boyfriend whom she met on the first night that her brother and I forced her to go out and have some fun at a local coffeehouse...; our two kittens are driving ol' Maggie-cat crazy,and us too sometimes; I am actively making my living room into a 1950s leave-it-to-beaver type space without me having to wear high heels and pearls

And, as I told Bob Farr, our conference's director of congregational excellence, with whom I had lunch yesterday, I seem to be getting my ds mojo on finally (although I have just researched the word "mojo" and I am kinda thinkin' I better find another word...:-)). That old mojo has erupted or whatever it is that it does every once in a while over the last couple of years, but it has me in a very good place---I met with the student pastors today; I've been going out to lunch off and on the last two months with some of the pastors with whom I have not checked in lately; I have all dates and pastor meeting dates planned; I have an agenda worked up for our district roundtable (the district council) for Sunday, and I think I am feeling confident in a way that I have not felt to this point.

For me, I think a lot of it comes from this rootedness emphasis that is the backdrop for everything else we are doing in the district this year...trying to ask pastors and lay leader-types to pay attention to their own spiritual rootedness (my metaphor fails). But you know what I mean.

I think it's time to turn my face toward all things emergent again---I may be ready.

Sunday August 12

This weekend I have done something I have never done before---I preached four times in the same church, with the same sermon. I had been asked to preach at First UMC in Blue Springs this Sunday--Steve Campbell was on vacation. I preached once last night and three times this morning. It was quite the experience. I preached three times regularly on Sundays the first year I was at Community UMC in Columbia, but never four times.

The text I used is actually the epistle lesson from the lectionary for next week---Hebrews 12:1-2. I reworked an old sermon in which I used Lance Armstrong as an example; used Shel Silverstein's Little Blue Engine; and, basically said as I summed at the end, When you think you can and you can; when you think you can and you can't; when you think you can't and you don't; in all those times we are help in the magnificent and mystifying love of God through Christ.

One thing I noticed today, preaching this many times, was how much I miss speaking aloud theologically---preaching is a way for us preachers articulate what we beleive, to say the important things out loud, not only for the congregation, but for our own souls as well.

Two other lovely things today: Yolanda Villa, my colleague in the office who now is the Heartland Central ds, called me on my way home from Blue Springs. Know why she called? Just to tell me she had been thinking about me and praying for me because she knew I was preaching 4 times. And she let me tell her about it. Wow.

And then tonight, after a called charge conference at FUMC Kearney (to set a new salary for the associate pastor whose hours have been increased and to establish another building committee to start to move forward on expanding the worship area) I went to dinner at the home of the pastor Fred and Linda Leist. It was so nice just to sit around the kitchen table, to eat the Greek food Linda had prepared for us and to have good conversation. Very nice indeed.

And sometimes, things actually work out right...

I have never been as glad as I am tonight that I have the MLB package for digital cable. I actually cried real tears over a Cardinals game, because Rick Ankiel hit a three run homer in the 7th inning. Who in the world would have thunk it in 2000 when I was about as embarrassed for a baseball player as I have ever been. Here is how the Cardinal beat-writer says it today on the team website:

Ankiel first appeared in the big leagues in 1999 (at nineteen) as a pitcher with the Cards. After a promising start, his career took a dramatic turn for the worse in the 2000 playoffs.
Chosen as the Game 1 starter of the NLDS against the Braves, Ankiel walked six batters and threw five wild pitches. In another postseason appearance against the Mets, the young lefty threw four more wild pitches in 1 1/3 innings.
Ankiel then started six games for the Cards in 2001 before missing the 2002 season and a chunk of the 2003 and 2004 with left elbow problems that required Tommy John elbow reconstruction surgery.

It was DESPERATELY painful to see a 20 year old pitcher fall apart. He kept trying some, but after the Tommy John surgery, he just said he did not have the desire anymore to do what it took to be a big league pitcher. Cards gm Walt Jocketty apparently talked him in to continuing to work on his hitting (always a good hitting pitcher) and eventually, with years of hard work on fielding, hitting, and no little amount of psychological reorientation, believe it or not, Rick is back with the Cardinals. ANd he hit a three run homer in the bottom of the 7th. And I cried, and more miraculously, Tony LaRuusa laughed, kept smiling, and clapped his hands. Wow. Sometimes things work out right...

This past Sunday I worshiped at Faith UMC in Grain Valley. This church in my district was one of two that had been selected at "teaching churches" for the School for Congregational Development, sponsored by the General Board of Discipleship and Church of the Resurrection. The pastor, Dave Hackett is preaching a series on the 12 disciples...this week it was Nathanael. David described something I had never heard before about that fig tree...the houses of that time were one room, and could get pretty crowded. Privacy was nearly non existent. It was the habit of persons who constructed those houses to plant a fig tree at the front of the house, not only for the fruit, but also because it provided a private place of shelter when a family member wanted to get away. When Jesus told Nathanael that he had seen him "under the fig tree before Philip called him," (John 1: 48) it was more than just having seen him along the way someplace or in a crowd. It was as if Jesus said to Nathanael, "I saw you in the place where you seek to be yourself; I saw you there, and knew you; I saw you there and saw no conceit." It got me to thinking---what fig tree which I call my own did Jesus see me under today? Did he see me under my d.s. fig tree, sitting in my office, trying to figure out the charge conference schedule? Did he see me under my mothering fig tree as I paid tuition for my daughter's first college class? Did he see me under my obsessive fig tree this evening as I searched ebay for that perfect mid century modern cranberry love seat I have in mind but have not found? Does he see me right now under my blogging fig tree, writing about fig trees? What I find so remarkably grace-filled is that Jesus has seen me under all the trees of my life, and knows me, and even though that phrase which he uses to describe Nathanael "without any guile" may not be the one that always describes me, Jesus knows better than I do who I really am, and he calls me to all these roles, and I am so so grateful. Thank you Rev. Hackett, for helping me know in a new and beautiful way, the prevenient grace of Christ, who knows us and loves us before we ever seek him.

Shelter Kitties

Today was the day I had told Caleb we would go to the Kansas City Animal Shelter and get his kitten. He has never had his own cat---Prince was supposed to have been Cana's cat and Maggie is supposed to be mine. We kind of switched somplace along the line. I like what this kitten thing is bringing out in Caleb---tenderness, protectiveness and he says, he is going to regulate the kitty's food so he doesn't have a weight problem like Maggie. So, he picked him out a sweet young long haired tabby-ish kitty, whose brother had already been adopted earlier today. Caleb was going to name his new cat after a Buddhist deity whose name I can't spell, but after he saw this kitten he decided he should have some other name. What, we do not yet know.

There were LOTS of kittens and cats at the shelter, and well, there was this one...in a cage by himself, sitting with his paws tucked under him, quiet, but with a steeliness about him that I immediately noticed, along with his brains, his strong meow and his good looks---white paws and markings, beautiful black fur on a handsome face...he is probably 3 months old. And so, well, what can I say, I decided that it would be okay to get him, too. I've already named him Mel...we were listening to Mel Torme on the way to Raytown to the shelter. We get to pick up the kitty cats on Monday late afternoon after they are neutered. We have been trying to get Maggie to realize her life is about to change, but she is in denial.

Hymn arrangements and the Soul of a DS

Another facet of life for me (is any one REALLY interested in this??? my blog seems to be leaning toward the "susan-focused")--is that I now have a piano in the apartment. (Cana took this this evening) Philip and I still co own a small Kawai grand that I had left in the Liberty parsonage because there was no room for it in the inn...oh, I mean, apartment. For Mother's Day this year, Philip promised to arrange for me to get a spinet since I had a heart felt desire for one, and Philip, pianist extraordinaire, and who knows that I do love music so, would do everything he could to help that part of me flourish. Which meant he had (well, I am sure there is some other way this could have happened, but, being Philip, this is how it did) to arrange for the good folks at Rock Bridge Christian Church (where he was the director of music a few years ago) in Columbia to bring their church's spinet over in exchange for the grand---all are one loan to each of us. Anyway, these are the ways of the Cox-Johnsons. Somebody loved Philip enough over there to help him figure this out. Today, Mr. Knott, the piano tuner came and did his thing with this old, much used Story and Clark from Columbia, and it does sound much better. I am REALLY enjoying it. I ordered four hymn arrangements books online from Sheet Music Plus( The arrangements are "for the late intermediate pianist" the books say) and play them with gladdened heart, if not with exactly the right notes. I also ordered a book of Samuel Barber piano etudes (which much be "for the late virtuoso pianist"because I can't begin to play them) and today I received the complete collection of Joplin rags. I used to could play those---when I was in seminary at Vandy thirty years ago (oh, my), someone stole all my rag books from the commons room. A disappointment for sure. When I was at Kirkwood twenty years ago (oh, my) as minister of Christian education, Karen House (who has just moved with her pastor-husband Keith Morgan to KC after spending all his ministry in St. Louis) was the director of music there and for a short time, I took lessons from her, after having not studied piano for,oh, twenty years before that! She had me playing Debussy and McDowell and I also wanted to play Gershwin so we did a bit. Since the kiddos came, I have not played much---just hymns some. But I seem to be at it again. Sometime I will regale those reading this with stories of Bill McGuire my piano teacher as a child and an adolescent---we had "Bill's chair" at our house that he sat in each week--he came to our house to give lessons---and did it on Monday mornings before school and then took me to school...wow. Bill, who may be reading this for all I know, had us play classical music for preludes in our country church---and gave a grand piano to the church, too. He played both my parents' funerals--my mother was especially fond of him---anyway, I digress.

It was last Sunday evening when I was playing "He Leadeth Me" that a sense of real focus yet real calm came over me in regards to the direction I need to lead with the pastors this year--spiritual formation, love that holds us up and holds us accountable. All of that. And it was a God moment as I actually got most of the notes right to that old hymn with a new arrangement and realized indeed that God is leading the mother sheep to tenderly care and, when admonishment must come, to do it as a form of nurture, because she wants to somehow grow in love.

Pictures of our time with our Saint Simons Family

I finally got around to uploading the pictures I took when we were on Saint Simons (seems like weeks ago...actually we were still there this time last week...) These were taken aboard the Lady Jane, the shrimp/excursion boat that Jane's hubby HL worked to convert. Take a look at their webpage: www.credlesadventures.com It goes out once a day on a two hour cruise, and they drop the nets, pick up and cook the shrimp on board. We actually did it twice that day and were out for three hours. The picture with Caleb in it is also of Ziggy and Erika Stubelek--Ziggy is Jane's son and I performed their wedding 2 1/2 years ago. The other picture of Caleb is to show the puff fish he held--there were all sorts of things that came up in the shrimp nets besides shrimp. Jane is afraid they will catch a dead body or something one day. The other picture--The women in the pictures are from left to right: Jane, Me, Cindy, Anne, and I'm sorry but I don't remember her name. She is the secretary at St. Simons Elementary school. You can identify me because I am the one without a beer can in my hand. Anne had just returned from three weeks in Scotland to visit her family.

Hope...

This morning I had a long cup of coffee with Hubert Neth. A rambling description of Hubert: A colleague in ministry at Broadway (he a retired former pastor) and former d.s.; one of the youngest thinkers I know; very well respected by colleagues and community, serving a church in my district currently; theologically anything-but-mainstream; poet; intriguing preacher; and the best loved "pastoring" pastor I know; married to a beautiful water colorist Barbara; has 4 adult daughters--and oh yes, loves Bob Dylan, and I think loves me too. Anyway, we talked of many things at Broadway Cafe this a.m.

We got around to talking about preaching, and how best to help preachers to preach more to the real felt needs of the folks in the pew. Hubert expressed to me something I know he believes, and he incarnates in his preaching---authenticity. He said this to me this morning, "I wish there was a way of helping pastors become more confident in their own stories." I think what he meant was how to help pastors to preach the reality of their own lives (not to navel gaze but to understand their own brokenness) and to know that much of what they experience in the hard times is really what the folks are experiencing too. Hubert is also very clear that preachers ought to know their people well enough, but really I think to know themselves well enough, to listen to their own souls closely enough, to admit what is really going on in life---junk happens. And recognizing junk happens for real is the only way to speak of our need for and the wonder of the good news---hope was a word I heard from Hubert today, both the "word" and the message.

Oh yes, and we had our district welcoming event tonight---about 60 or so persons, pastors and families---ice cream social at Kearney. I read "I'll Love You Forever" to the kids (actually kids of all ages) present---I wanted to really set that tone for how to go about spiritual formation this year. It felt authentic (:-))

Fruit and Roots

At Bishops' Week in June, we decided as a cabinet to focus on the Five Practices at charge conferences this year---each of the 12 of us could teach/preach/encourage around these in whatever way we felt our districts needed. I have thought and thought and thought some more about this. I have read our bishop's book. I read it before it was published. I have heard probably ten times a sermon which our bishop preaches "Through or Around" which focuses on the five practices. I have talked about them in churches, in district meetings, in other states and with emergent leaders. I have prayed and prayed about how to "use" these in the charge conference setting.

And now, the confession: Whether it's just because I'm one of those "devil's advocate" persons or that I have been blessed with a very large dose of critical thinking, I struggle some times not so much with the practices themselves (I especially like the adjectives---Radical, Passionate, Intentional, Risk Taking Extravagant---now those are my kind of words!!!) but with the paradigm and I did write a review of the book on an earlier blog entry. I guess where I finally came down this weekend was that my heart resonates not as much with fruits as it does with roots. And, yes, yes, yes, I know, that one cannot have one without the other. But because this is who I am and the kind of leader I have been increasingly as I pastored in the local church, and now as a d.s., I plan to emphasize with the pastors at least, and most probably with the churches as well, how vital it is for us to sink our roots into the living word of God; how, if we are to grow more vital and fruitful, the soil of our own spirits must be nurtured and tilled with the means of grace. Without works, prayer is dead. But without prayer, we cannot flourish, and I would say we will shrivel and die and the good intentions we have had, as we have set goals and planned programs might, as the seed of the parable, flourish with joy for a day, but quickly fade as we grow weary, because we have not attended to the work of the spirit.

I simply do not know how to lead if I cannot do it as a spiritual leader. And I want to tell the pastors, all of the pastors in my district, the ones who have so many first time visitors each Sunday in their churches that they cannot keep up with them--and the ones who buried many more persons last year than they brought in, not because they have not tried, but because their communities have decreased in size so drastically and it simply is more difficult to pastor sometimes when the resources are not there--and the ones, some of whom I have seen this week, whose faces look weary and whose eyes look, if not frightened, at least wary, because they worry that their numbers in the book of life (i.e., their district red files) aren't looking real great this year---and ones who need a good dose of somebody they respect saying to them "get off your good intentions and get out there and DO something, gosh darn it!---I want to say to all of them that to flourish, both in terms of fruit-production and just to FLOURISH in their lives, please, pastors, spend some time tilling your soul, and the soul of the folks in your church, and even, as one older commentator on prayer describes taking the "sun cure"--- as doctors often prescribes years ago for tuberculosis patients, and still do for babies with jaundice---to just place yourself in the sunshine of God's love and let God's love through Christ radiate through you,body and soul, to not try so hard at prayer that it becomes a drudgery, but to trust the spirit to provide you with the vision and the strength you need to lead.

Hmmm, what do you think???