Put On Some Clothes

Outward appearances: people seem split on their importance. We proclaim “inner beauty” yet, The Society Pages.org states that beauty spending “adds up to a $160 billion-a-year worldwide”[i] industry. What we say and what we believe certainly seem to be two different things.

Now, if you’re a member of my home church, you may recall the sermon where I trashed my prom dress, proclaiming that the Divine didn’t care what we wore while we did the work we are called to, so long as our hearts were in the right place. I still hold this to be true, but I’d like to make an amendment – what we wear makes a difference, not in God’s eyes, but in our own. The clothes may not make the proverbial man, but they may help the man see himself more fully.

So why the shift in perception? I tried on pastoral robes.

I didn’t even have to look in a mirror – I felt like a minister. My friend Kelly said I was “just glowing.”

Pictured: Bioluminescence.

Now, I know my ministry didn’t start with putting that robe on. Obviously not. Ever since I first felt this stirring to serve six years ago, I’ve been working to answer this calling – going on visits to friends in hospice, providing music, preaching, serving on committees, organizing community events, helping lead worship, teaching confirmation, and leading the high school youth ministry.

But, honestly, when I put that robe on, it was a sudden affirmation of what I’ve known in my heart but never really owned – I’m going to be a pastor. I’m going to walk with people on their spiritual journeys. I’m going to sit with them in times of sorrow and we are gonna dance together in times of joy.

Nothing changed. I didn’t hear the voice of God saying “Now that you have these robes on, you can really begin your ministry.” But it was a kick-start almost. It was a reminder.

My grandfather loves to tell me that ministers don’t paint their nails or have tattoos or dye their hair. I know all of this is based in his concern for my well-being and his love for me. I would always laugh and shake my head. But I see where he was coming from. I think I get the underlying message – if you don’t present yourself as a minister, other people won’t see you as one. And I’ll give in a little bit – you need to see yourself  as a minister, you need to own your calling, before other people will see you as a minister. Just like my little sister will one day have to own her calling to Mr. Berry-dom (i.e. teaching literature and film classes to high school students) before she begins to teach. Just like we all have to own our purpose in life.

And, no, you don’t need to be wearing certain clothes to own your calling in life, but if it helps you understand yourself and see yourself more in the role you feel called to, is that a bad thing? My vote is ‘no, it’s not.’

I guess what I’m getting at is, sometimes, what we think is a just a superficial outward appearance is actually our inward selves radiating out. And when your inner self is reflected out for the world to see – through your actions, attitudes, and, yes, even clothes – that is a beautiful thing.

Own it friends. And if you need a little help owning it, put on some clothes.

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[i] http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2009/05/15/the-beauty-industry-spending-and-routines/

I Give Up...

Lent is quickly approaching. This Wednesday, many of us will go to church, receive the imposition of ashes, and give up something for Lent.

Last year I gave up alcohol, the year before that sweets of any kind, and so on... And while "giving these things up" made going to the bar or dessert a little less enjoyable, I realize, for me at least, there was nothing in them that actually worked on my relationship with the Divine.

This year, I'm giving up one thing and taking on another.

I'm giving up negative self-talk. So, when I jokingly say negative things about myself or when I say negative things about myself and mean it, or when I catch myself thinking negative things about myself... I'm going to stop myself and say a short prayer/affirmation.

I'm taking on the practice of simplifying my own life - speaking in material terms - and of giving to those in need. I will make at least one run to Goodwill each week. I will not buy any shoes/clothes/etc. during Lent. Basically, if it's not food or school supplies, I don't really need to have it. And too much stuff, materially, tends to make me feel claustraphobic and cluttered emotionally, so we'll work on that this Lent by trying to trim it out of the material in an effort to help out on the emotional side as well.

What are you doing for Lent?

Where Is Church?

So this morning, I had intended to go see one of my sweet seminarian friends preach. That plan went out the window when I woke up at 10:05. I considered going to an 11 o' clock service at another church, rushing around to get ready and hop on the T... but it occured to me, what I really need right now is some "me and God" time... And I felt like walking. Yes, in the -2 degree wind chill, the best thing for my faith this morning was a walk.

So I packed up my laptop in my backpack, figuring I'd get lunch somewhere after my walk, and I took my iPhone (with headphones) and bundled up like Arctic Barbie and headed out into the blustery winds with The Decemberists' The King Is Dead as my soundtrack.

Here is a track-by-track of my spiritual formation this morning:

Don't Carry It All:
Beginning of song - This was a bad idea. It's cold outside.
Middle of song - Oh, wait, the sun is shining. I'm breathing. Things are not that bad.
End of song - Right, then. Things are actually pretty good.

Calamity Song:
I'll admit it, I broke into a kind of dance. The kind of dance you can only do with nine layers on. Sometimes this song makes me really happy.

Rise to Me:
Okay, God. I get it. Good morning, how are you? Thanks for checking in.
The lyrics of this song don't actually make sense in relation to the feeling it imbues in me.

Rox in the Box:
"Of dirt you're made and to dirt you will return.
So while we're living here,
let's get this little one thing clear,
There's plenty of men to die,
you don't jump your turn...
What were you meant for?
What were you meant for?"

January Hymn:
It is January. I can identify with this song. This song is good stuff.
"What were the words I meant to say before she left,
when I could see her breathe lead where she was going to.
Maybe I should just let it be,
and maybe it will all come back to me.
Sing oh, Janu, oh, January, oh."

Down By the Water:
Okay, this song doesn't actually inspire much... but it continues the good feeling.

All Arise!:
"But you keep on stealing, you keep on stealing,
yes, you keep on stealing 'til there's nothing left to steal."
I like this song too.

June Hymn:
I now have this calm that was not there when I woke up this morning. It is quite pleasant.

This Is Why We Fight:
I'm now in Starbucks contemplating this good feeling that has manifested itself in my brain.
"This is why, this is why we fight,
This is why we lie awake."

Dear Avery:
"Don't you shake alone, please, Avery, come home."

It's good stuff, friends.

And I think feelings like this are a big part of why my idea of church is so nebulous and unformed. What constitutes as church? Why does the order of worship and which hymnal we use matter so much? Why do I need an old white or stone building to minister to others?

No, I know that I don't. I don't know what my ministry is going to look like, but I hope it includes cold morning walks and indie folk-rock albums.