Showing posts with label struggle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label struggle. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Why Does It Hurt So Much That Robin Williams Died?


Robin Williams is a stranger to most of us.  So was Philip Seymour Hoffman.  And Heath Ledger.  And sadly, so many other people of fame who have died in some way associated with alcoholism or addiction.

Why does it matter so much to us when they die?  Strangers die unremarked in all kinds of ways every day.

Maybe (speaking only for myself) it matters so much because if they can’t do it – if ‘they’, who have so very much by way of resources and access to resources, can’t do ‘it’, who can?  What hope does the little guy, the average joe, the ordinary person, who may not have that kind of access in these United States, at least, have?


Of course, success may actually be part of the problem for the rich and famous – that same success that gives them ease of access to treatment and care gives them access to the thing that will kill them.


Obviously, the cost of addiction is not (or not only) an issue of class or economics.  


But when Robin Williams dies, I am not just mourning for him.  I am mourning for everyone else who struggles his struggle and wondering what chance they have if he couldn’t do it.


Of course, I know better.  Of course I know that all those who struggle have a chance.  And that so much depends on so many variables.  And that help is really only a phone call away.  But I also know that for some, it is sometimes just too much and Superman won’t arrive in the nick of time.  


And knowing all this, I mourn.




Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Small Enough for You


Churches that struggle do so because they lack, identity, mission, vision, community, and more. – Rob Rynders

It is the day of my ordination.  I have preached my sermonette, been questioned on the floor of Presbytery, and now stand with a group of other folk being ordained.  There are about 12 of us – all headed to serve in small, largely rural, churches.

The gentleman welcoming us, means, I am sure, well, when he says, “When I’m wrong, I’m wrong.  I said no one of any quality would want to serve in a small church.  But look at all these quality folk.”  Or something like that.

I remember being appalled as I searched out the faces of the folks from my own small rural church who had come to support me and witness this important milestone in my life and saw the woundedness in their expressions.

In seeking to compliment us, the class of new pastors, the congregations we serve were gravely insulted, told in front of God and everybody that they lacked any qualities that would appeal to any pastor worth their proverbial salt.

Nothing has changed much in the intervening eight years and I am left to wonder whether this is a phenomena of the United States or if it’s a world-wide thing – this eschewing of ‘small’ as ‘bad’ or ‘unworthy’ or ‘broken’ or anything except what it actually is: small?  What is this obsessive need to supersize everything in our lives?

Thus do I read yet another blog post on how we’re doing it wrong, as evidenced by our smallness: lacking in identity, mission, vision, community and more.  And more?  Really?  Small is per se evidence of lack, is it?  Hmmm.

Well, of course, small must be bad.  After all, everyone* says so.  Google “the problem with small churches” and you get 355 million hits in less than 6 seconds.  And we all know that if Google says it, it must be true, eh?

Or do we?

Rob Rynders may be right – at least partially.  I’m sure there are churches who struggle because of confusion or lack of clarity as to who they are or what they are about.

But does it occur, ever, to the many hypothesizers out there that struggle is actually a part of all life?  Including church life?  That struggle + difficulty + challenge is simply the landscape we inhabit both as humans and as children of God (if there is any distinction to be made there, which I doubt)?

The principal struggle I experience in serving a small church is actually financial, which I am told over and over again biblically is the least of my worries.

Most Christians I know actually have a pretty clear sense of their identity – individually and as members of a faith community (yeah, that’s church).  And they understand their and our mission here on this earth – love and serve.  Most days, they do it pretty well, if quietly.  And strangers don’t remain strangers for long in a small church – there’s just nowhere to hide.

When I get discouraged, thinking we should somehow be ‘bigger’ (whatever that may mean) than we are, I remember that small is actually a part of our identity, of who we are.  We live in a place where big in terms of numbers of people is simply not part of the landscape.  The people who live here actually prefer to avoid crowds.  In fact, one gentleman told me that he did not attend church because there were just too many people there.  He was delighted when I told him that I had the perfect worshiping community for him and he’s been faithfully attending ever since.

It’s easy to tell folks how they’re getting it wrong.  I wonder why that is?  And I am left wondering whether the diagnosticians among and within us ever find a patient who’s doing just fine?  Or one who could use a little help who actually gets the help rather than a reminder of just how very sick she is?

Small churches can mostly see just fine.  And they too are about their Father’s business.  It would be nice if money worries weren’t part of the equation, but that’s okay – that just puts us closer to our neighbors who are going through the exact same struggle.

There are folk – maybe even most folk –  who need to be drug or enticed to church.  There are churches for them.  And then there are those who need to find their own way here.  We’re the church for those folk.

Most days, I’m Presbyterian enough to believe that when folk need to be here, they’ll find their way.  And we’ll be here waiting to welcome them – the same neighbors and friends they and we have known all along, small enough you won’t get lost in the crowd.



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*Well, everyone except the Bible and Jesus – yeah – that guy:   “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”  (Matthew 18.20).  And just how many original disciples cum apostles were there?  Oh, that’s right – 12.  

Monday, April 29, 2013

Peace with Me


I am my own worst friend
and best enemy

is it that way with you?

I love and hate me all at once
and it is not good

for the voices in my head
ringing the I’m-not-worthy
repeating knell are not mine
and not God’s – no, they are
yours – and whether you think
so or not, I hear them loud
and I hear them clear

and I know better than to
heed them but in the just
now of things when the armor
is worn thin and the body and
mind are tired, I have no
defense, no safe haven I can
find even as I know it’s there

like the other night when
sleep driven I could not find
the door knob in the dark
(who loses the door knob
in the dark?)

still, even, yet, but, though
the voices be yours, the
war is not with you but
with me – the struggle
is not to defeat you but
me – the worst casualties
are not yours but my own –
as I take on board your
vision of the me I know
and in taking on, forget
the me God knows, loves
and proclaims good

isn’t that a sin?