world of hurt

For some reason, I have become more and more aware recently of the tremendous number of people walking around in pain. Not physical pain - though there's certainly plenty of that, but mental/spiritual pain. My wife does not share the details of her counseling sessions, and I don't really want her to. It's not that I don't care about the lives of the parishioners, I just don't want to have to keep any more secrets than necessary. But I do know how she acts or seems to feel after counseling others. There is a need for her to process what she hears, and I can be a sounding board for that. In that process, I do get some information about what's going on, but not enough details for it to feel like gossip. Maybe it's wrong, I don't know. I do know that I try very hard no to let any of these details affect the way I treat or feel about anyone. It has been quite an eye-opener to realize how many folks are really hurting. There are people who seem to be happy and well-adjusted, but inside they are suffering. I know that's not a big revelation in and of itself, but I suppose what's striking to me is the scale of the suffering. It seems to be a part of our human condition in this world - we suffer. All of us at least some of the time suffer. I am really lucky in that my suffering has been quite limited to this point. A broken heart or two on the way to finding my soul mate. A couple miscarriages. The deaths of grandparents and some friends. All sad, but all typical experiences that most folks find along life's path.

Some folks' lives are pretty much a train wreck, and the wreckage is in plain view. It is hard for me to relate to lives ruined by alcoholism, marital infidelity, untimely deaths of spouses and children, economic misfortune, and the list goes on.

Others' lives contain more subtle suffering. A marriage is lifeless, two people surviving in the same house without sharing themselves with each other. Quiet resentment constantly simmering. Distrust and shame between two people that pledged to spend their lives together as one flesh. But to the outside world, they seem like a normal, happy couple.

One of the drawbacks to being the only pastor on staff is that there's no one else to help you navigate the intricate relationships among the parishioners. Especially in the beginning of our time here, it is hard to know whom to trust. Now that we've been here a year, we have a slightly better idea of the different personalities here, but there is still much to learn. As we find out more about the sources of dysfunction in this place (and all churches have some level of dysfunction, of course), I suppose more suffering past and present will come to light. I think it's important not to get overwhelmed by it. As hard as it is to discuss, bringing it out into the light will help us move forward.

I don't like it when folks try to dismiss life's suffering with happy God-talk. What I mean is the idea that we should always be happy because we have Jesus who promises us eternal life with God, so why should we ever be sad? "Smile, Jesus loves you!" Well of course he does. But the acknowledgement of suffering does not indicate a lack of faith. Happy God-talk is not compassion. It is Polyanna foolishness most of the time. I am not going to be happy when I see others suffering (at least I hope I won't - there are some folks who I probably would want to see suffer - but then when the actual suffering comes, I'd probably feel bad). Empathy and compassion are traits of Jesus Christ, who we are supposed to emulate, and displaying these traits doesn't always feel good.

But we are supposed to have joy, and I think this is achievable. I say achievable as if it's something we can get through our own effort, but I think it's a gift. Along with the sad realities that we learn about in the lives of those we are coming to love, there is much to be joyful about, even beyond the joy of our adoption as sons and daughters of the most high God. There are babies born and couples renewing their wedding vows. There are moments of grace in worship and in fellowship together. For me, there is laughter and fellowship in Sunday school and at covered dish dinners. And there is joy in watching my family try hard to live into what God has planned for us. We fall, but God picks us up. One year into my wife's first appointment, I feel like we are in the right place for now.

zero-sum living

I have been thinking lately about the "economy of lack" that we seem to live in. There's this idea that there's not enough to go around - we have to grab all we can and hoard it just in case. This way of thinking has been described as social Darwinism. You have to want not only to survive and thrive, but you must do it at the expense of others. It's like life is a zero-sum game. If you don't succeed and others do, their success will come at your expense. So get yours before they can get theirs.

I don't see this as living into the kingdom of God. Is there not enough in the kingdom of God? Do we really believe in the KOG?

Obviously, we are responsible for our own success. The most effective way to secure one's own success is through hard work and perseverance. There's no reason to expect that one can or should live comfortably while doing absolutely nothing to take care of themselves. So everyone is expected to pull their own weight. In theory, I suppose that would mean that we would all work hard, so we'd all be able to take care of ourselves. But that's in theory. If we work hard, will we always be rewarded? If we work hard, can we be truly self-reliant? No man is an island, right? Are we supposed to be peninsulas? Or are we our brothers' and sisters' keepers?

Are we supposed to take care of each other or blame others who need our help? Why do they need our help anyway? Shouldn't they have planned better? Shouldn't they have lived better? Maybe they need help because they are just plain lazy, or made bad decisions, or are living an immoral lifestyle. Maybe we can pick and choose whom we help. There are some people I don't want to help. They don't really want to change the way they're living. So why should they get the benefit of the hard work of others?

This way of thinking reminds me of the "deutoronomic thought" of old. By this $50 word, I mean the idea that God punishes the wicked and rewards the good. If you are suffering in any way - physical disabilities, economic troubles, etc - it is because of sin. If you are doing well, it is because God is rewarding your righteousness. Usually, this concept is rejected if you discuss it in a Sunday School class. We claim that this is a silly idea, blaming someone's handicap on the sin of their parents or their own sin. But do we really reject this way of thinking? I think this way of thinking is still prevalent among Christians today.

For the most part, we don't associate physical handicaps with sin. But we do tend to lean heavily on the "it's their own fault" way of thinking for many other problems. Of course, a lot of times it is their own fault, at least some of it. Sometimes it really is the result of bad decisions. We live in a broken world, though. People make decisions that are bad for themselves. People make decisions that are bad for others. There is both personal and systemic sin to blame for many tragic situations.

But there is good news. We serve a God who will pay us a full day's wage, even if we can't find work until late in the day. If we are truly followers - imitators - of this God, then we must have at least some of this sort of generosity of spirit. That doesn't mean we are doormats to those who would take advantage. It is possible to be generous in our treatment of others while still holding each other accountable. But we needn't spend much energy worrying that people will take advantage of us.

Getting started

I am not sure how this experiment is going to work out. I don't like to read about other people's naval-gazing, and I don't know if people will want to read mine. But I do like putting my thoughts in writing, and I can't seem to keep journals around for very long - either my daughter gets a hold of them and fills them with precious pictures and writing, or they get lost in the van. Or I just get out of the habit and don't write for a long time.

So here goes.

I recently became a pastor's husband. I didn't marry a pastor, my wife became one. And I am thrilled about that - it's who she was born to be. Sometime, I should write about how we met, fell in love, got married, had 3 beautiful babies, and jumped into the pastoral ministry adventure. But that seems like too much to tackle in my first post.

I do enjoy the idea of being a pastor's spouse. I have always been a "helper" person, instead of the person in charge - it fits my personality. Being the pastor's husband - as opposed to the pastor's wife - is a somewhat unusual situation. I'm certainly not the only one, and the Methodist church has been ordaining women as pastors for about 50 years, but still, most people don't know quite what to do with me. I don't play the organ or host Bible studies in the parlor for the ladies of the church. I am not impeccably dressed every Sunday, nor do I keep the home spotless just in case parishoners drop by unexpectedly(not living in the parsonage has kept this situation from happening very often). But I do have a role to play, don't I? I make sure the kids are marginally presentable on Sunday morning and that they are safe. We are very cautious about them being alone with anyone at church, even those people we tend to trust the most. This (I think justified) paranoia comes from experience at a previous church, and it is my most important responsibility. I teach a Sunday School class too, but that's the extent of my visible service to the church.

I think my calling is as a helper to my wife, and that's how most of my service takes place. Helping sometimes involves physical activity - helping to set up a room or something for Bible study, etc. But usually it is just giving her moral support and doing a lot of listening. The role of pastor is a difficult one - there are lots of people to please, if you are a "pleaser." Expectations are very high, and no one thinks you're working hard. There are no real days off unless you move mountains to get everything covered, get out of town, and turn off the cell phone. Most folks in the church are well-intentioned, good people. And at every church, there are some who are not. The issues of power and control are present wherever people organize themselves into a group, and the church is certainly no exception - in fact, it is a "poster-child" for this problem.

So in her first appointment, there is a difficult learning curve to ascend. I think she's doing great, but we're both neurotic enough, that it's still an everyday challenge. We're getting there, I think. The trick will be to be patient and take a long-term view, and to remember why we are here.

Oh, and I didn't mention my job yet. I am an engineer who works for a software company. We make software for engineers who design chips. I spent a lot of time in graduate school for this, and I like my job most of the time. My career is impacted by our choice to do this ministry thing, but not severely. My company has an office about 100 miles from where we are serving - until the summer of 2009, I worked there at least 1 day a week. Prior to my wife starting seminary, I was there every day. But the people in my work group are all on the other side of the continent, so as long as I have a reliable internet connection, I can work most anywhere. This is quite a blessing, and has made our move possible (or at least more tolerable).