Friday, July 27, 2007

Man In the Mirror


I'm sure if you are anything like me, you've looked at your image in the mirror thousands of times. Most of us stand in front of the mirror each morning and marvel at just how "bad" we look as we wipe the sleep from our eyes and try to get ourselves ready for whatever the day holds.

If we let the world's standards get a hold of us we worry about the pimple on our nose, the gray hair that appeared overnight, the sag in our cheeks. If it is a full-length mirror we focus on how fat we are and how we just don't look like we wished we looked (usually based on some model that we saw in a magazine or star that we saw on television).
I'm guessing that sometimes (maybe most times) we have a tendency to look in that mirror and look right past what we really see and instead focus on the image that we think we see. The same can be true when we look at our character. We often are looking in the fun house mirror that distorts our image of ourselves. We see the flaws exaggerated and the strengths minimized.

Part of my summer experience is self-evaluation and self-realization. I spend an hour each week with my supervisor talking about what I think I've learned in the past week (sometimes I am more accurate than other times). It is very unnatural for us to look at ourselves in this way, but it is also a good practice.

In this past week I realized that I don't always see myself the way others see me. I had one of the social workers ask my advice on how to handle a tough group that she was working with. What could I offer to her? Certainly she had been at this longer than I had. My supervisor pointed out that she felt she could trust me, that I would be, at the least, a sounding board for her. Hmmm ... I never thought of that. I always thought of trust as something that would come after a greater amount of time, I've maybe been in the same part of the Hospital as this social worker for 3 hours!

I also had the experience of meeting with an older gentleman who told me, "I get to know people by reading their faces." So I asked him what he read in mine and he replied, "You're a gentle, caring person who isn't going to take shit from anyone." Hmmm ... all of that came through my face, huh? Maybe he was just shining me on, but I want to think that he is pretty accurate.

When I look in the mirror, these are not the things I see. I see the receding hairline, the need for a shave, maybe a pimple that appeared over night, lines that are starting to form around my eyes (I guess they will become wrinkles at some point), but I don't see the trust or the love that others see. Maybe that's why we surround ourselves with other people, so they can show us what we don't see in ourselves.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Tour de Fat


So, yesterday I experienced a first in my life. I rode in a bike event ... Tour de Fat. I call it an event because I'm frankly not quite sure what it really should be called. It is most definitely not a race (I was near the front of the pack the entire time, that would not be the case in a race, even a short one), I guess it was a benefit since money was being raised for two local bike organizations, I guess it was also an awareness event since there was a lot of discussion about eco-friendliness (or as they call it now "Green"). Nonetheless I rode in it, have the t-shirt to prove, and now am not afraid of doing something like that again (assuming it's not a race).

I found some photos from the event to post, but none really of the ride itself which I can't quite figure out there was no shortage of cameras (or interesting things to take photos of for that matter). I of course was negligent in bringing my own camera, but in my defense a clunky 35mm SLR is not the right camera to carry on a bike ride (so if you're thinking about a Christmas gift for me, oh, sorry shameless plugs come later).

Aside from being a good excuse to get out and ride my bike (because there was a beer tent at the end of the ride, thanks New Belgium Brewery) it was a good day of entertainment. As the website for the event describes it, "2 parts bike rodeo, 1 part circus" the circus part came in an afternoon of side-show style entertainment. There was a goofy trio that did juggling acts (including a chain-saw, bowling ball and egg routine), then there was a really great band called the Asylum Street Spankers that really rocked the park! (they were perfect for San Francisco since their music included drug references, anti-establishment references, and a country-bluegrass-rap feel to it). At this point I wisely decided that the sun had gotten enough of me and I should head home (I have the burn to prove that, too ... but I don't plan to document it through pictures or anything).

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

WWJD ... trite, but right


I have to admit, I never jumped on the WWJD bandwagon in the early 90's when "everyone" was wearing these multi-colored bracelets and touting "What Would Jesus Do" as the answer to all of the problems in the world, but I think there is something powerful if we really take this message to heart.
For the past two days I have been in attendance at a Marginalized Ministry Conference. The attendees all are involved in some ministry to marginalized populations (go figure from the title). Some are involved in prisons, others mental hospitals, others homeless shelters. Part of the event is more-or-less group therapy for those that are in attendance. A chance to blow-off steam about their frustrations, to hear others empathize with their pain, and know they aren't alone in their struggles to care for those on the margins of society.
As you might expect there is some conversation about "how to make things better" and much of that conversation has centered around the concept of abolition of the current prison system. Frankly it's not working, there is a ridiculously high recidivism rate, the number of inmates keeps climbing, the costs are prohibitive, and even for the staff at such facilities life isn't good (one attendee mentioned that the average prison guard draws pension for 18 months ... that's not a long life-span after retirement).
As we discussed abolition of the current system one concept kept coming up: to love others. Why does love make such a difference? Think about it, if you love someone you want the best for them. If you love someone, you can forgive a lot more of the things they do. If you love someone, you see them as an individual not as a description (murderer, rapist, drug-addict). Certainly to love someone is easier said than done or is it?
A friend of mine always ends his sermons with the same line, "cling to your faith in the crucified and risen Christ. God loves you, and so do I." I always thought that was a great message, but I could never use it because I couldn't own it. I knew there were people that I couldn't bring myself to love, people that I just didn't like, people that rubbed me the wrong way.
I have spent a few weeks at Napa State Hospital when I arrive in the morning and park my car I say a prayer, "God you have brought me to this place at this time to love the people I encounter. Help me love them." In the few weeks I have been there I have met sex offenders and murderers and I can honestly say, I have loved them. I have put aside my prejudices and labels and sat with them and talked to them. I have learned they are humans in need of love, just like those of us who reside outside the walls of that facility.
I realized that my inability to love some people was really my fear, fear of what they would do to me if I loved them. Well, I have learned what happens when you love people, it softens your heart and provides room for more of God's love.
This past Sunday I preached on the story of the Good Samaritan and had an insight, the story of the Good Samaritan is set-up when one of Jesus' followers asks him, "what must I do to inherit eternal life" and Jesus responds, "love the lord your God with all [you are] ... and love your neighbor as yourself" then the man asks, "but who is my neighbor." This is where Jesus shares the story, but in doing so answers not the question of "who is my neighbor" but "how do I love with all that I am."
So we are faced with the question every day ... What Would Jesus Do? If we are to answer the question honestly we have to say simply, love. If we love, then we don't need the prisons and other institutions that are temples of our fear.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Extravagant Love


I have now been at Napa State Hospital for my CPE program for three weeks. I'm feeling like I am getting into a bit of a groove there, although it seems like there is always something that is coming in the way of really getting into a routine (Independence Day, Conferences, etc). But that has not stopped me from having some really great experiences of insight into myself, my pastoral identity, and into the human race.

Recently I had a conversation with a man (I'll call him Jim to protect his identity, and thus keeping with HIPAA requirements) who is new to the facility. One of the reasons I was talking with Jim was that he learned that as he was being transported to Napa State his mother passed away. He said, "It's okay. Now we're both in a better place." Still, that doesn't put an end to his grief.

As Jim talked about his feelings and his grief over the loss of his mother and his sadness about his inability to attend the funeral (due to his commitment to Napa State) he started sharing a story about his mother. What follows is my recollection of that story, I hope I do it justice.
My mother was a kind and loving woman. I always knew love growing
up. I know that the reason I am here is because of choices I made, not
because of the home I grew up in. My mother was an artist and she used to
love to do watercolors of nature scenes. She loved nature and she always
seemed to notice the things that no one else noticed.


Our yard, when I was growing up, had huge trees in the backyard.
Our neighbor had these Palm trees put in that were full grown. One of
those trees must have dropped a seed near our trees and one day when I was out
marveling at how large our trees were my mom noticed this little palm tree
sapling in the ground. Most people would have trod over it and never
noticed it, but my mother not only noticed it, she nurtured it and took care of
it. As it got bigger she transplanted it to another area of the yard so
that it could get the sun that it needed and survive.


My mother did that with me, too. See, I am adopted. My
parents could not have children of their own so they looked for a child to
adopt. I don't know the story of my birth-mother, nor do I need to,
because my mom and dad found me, a little child not more than 6-months old and
took me into their home, cared for me, and loved me, and gave me the love that I
needed to grow up and be a good person.

Jim's mom really seemed to understand the extravagant love that Christ modeled for us. Jesus didn't discriminate when he died on the cross. He didn't discriminate in his ministry. In fact it was to the "least of these" that he focused his ministry. How often do we overlook the little saplings all around us in life focusing on the bigger, more impressive, mature trees? How often do we overlook the people that God is calling us to serve saying, "surely that is not the person, Lord."

As I spend my summer at Napa State Hospital, I see people that society has named as thief, murderer, and sex-offender. These descriptions are true of one aspect of who they are (or were), but I see in them the face of Christ. These are children of God, heirs of the heavenly promise, forgiven of their sins. These are the saplings that we are called to nurture and guide to maturity.

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Privilege

I've been spending my days at the place pictured above. Well, I have to admit, I haven't actually been in that building, but I know where it is on the campus of Napa State Hospital (no, it no longer carries the "for the insane" tag that you might read at the top of the photo). I will spend a total of 10 weeks there doing my Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) basically, I am a chaplain for the summer.

A little background on Napa State Hospital. It is what they call a "Forensic Psychiatric Facility" in a nutshell, there are two parts to the facility, one where people are wards of the state and being treated for mental illness and the other for people who have either been found Not Guilty by reason of Mental Disease or Incompetent to Stand Trial. I spend some time with both groups.

On Monday, while I was eating my lunch (which is provided by the facility) I was realizing how many privileges that I have that I take for granted. My lunch consisted of a Turkey sandwich (over-processed turkey lunch meat, way too much mayonnaise, white bread), potato salad, and cucumber and onion salad. As things went, I couldn't bring myself to eat most of the sandwich, it was just too processed and coated with too much mayo. At that point I realized that I have the privilege to be picky about what I eat. Most of the individuals at Napa State do not have that same privilege (some do have money available that they can buy food from the canteen) and therefore have to eat what is put in front of them. Similarly there are plenty of people who are homeless or can't afford to put food on their tables that would have loved to eat what I had. And there I sat with the privilege to be picky about what I ate.

I know I complain from time to time about my lack of money to do the things I want to do (I think we all do), I complain about the inconvenience to me because I have to do extra work to get something I want, I complain that I have "nothing to wear", or I complain that "everyone" has it better than I do. Hopefully the next time I think of complaining this experience will be a good reminder to me that I really don't have it so bad. I can come and go as I please. I can wear whatever I want (the individuals in the secured section of the facility have lost that privilege and must dress in clothes that are all khaki).

I am reminded however of a privilege that is still afforded to the individuals at Napa State. That is, as the hymn tells us, the "privilege to carry everything to God in prayer." I think I might preach on this very subject when I have the opportunity to lead worship at Napa State. It is a wonderful piece of hope that exists in a place where many don't see much hope in their situation. The sad reality however is that many of us tend to take this privilege (or maybe gift is a better word) for granted too. We, as the hymn says, "forfeit our peace" and "bear needless pain" simply because we don't utilize the gift given to us.

The beautiful thing about the privilege of prayer is that God will never take it away.