General Assembly: Travel Log

Day 1:
Things to avoid when flying:
Philadelphia airport
United
Changing airlines mid trip (flags you for TSA check)

Suitcase broken in transit
PDA MIA

Arrived at the Salt Lake City Raddison, dropped my stuff in the room, and though I knew the opening reception was long over I headed to the conference site to see a familiar face and say “I made it!”

Run into my local colleagues on my way in, and my long lost California colleagues on their way into the bar. Had a $10 glass of house wine and was so grateful to be among them again.


Day 2:
Sonia Sanchez was our keynote. I finally have a role model for my elder years. Connecting with one long lost friend after another. Weep regularly. End the day with a Minor League Baseball Game with 50ish other UU clergy. (See face book video). My partner calls to say that UnderDog was found after some significant hunting at the back of my closet curled up on my Pjs. I feel horrible for leaving him, and miss my family.

Day 3:
Day begins with the worship service honoring ministers who have served 25 and 50 years. Never fails to make the whole trip worthwhile. Cried during role call just for a warm up. Found an extra pack of Kleenex at the bottom of my bag- shared them around. Not only does the service remind me what I thought ministry was, but in the tough times I think back on it and remember that ordination is for life- I remember my vow and strive to come back to that service one more year.

More good friends, good sushi.

Then the teeming hoards come (600 clergy becomes 3500 UUs) and suddenly I am deeply homesick. We determine that 2 years away from my former congregation is enough to join their delegation for dinner. I eat with my guide-daughter and her Mama, and feel much better. We watch the parade of flags, but the opening ceremonies were not suited to a toddler. Guidedaughter and Mama head out into the lobby to preserve the peace for other attendees. I sit for a minute listening to the last thoughts of our UUA president, and realize this is the wrong choice. I follow out to the lobby, and we sticker, run, dance, jump, and explore until her bedtime. Yes.

Day 4:
Now I’m really homesick. Blerg. Mark Morrison-Reed speaks eloquently, but an hour of Q&A is too much. I play hookie and catch up with yet more old friends.

Catching Up starts like this:
How are you?
I’m great.
I’m in a personal Renaissance
I serve a family size historic Universalist congregation
I live in Ithaca
(The commute is about an hour)
We just bough a music store! And my partner is really enjoing running it.
My son is 8, yes 8, can you belive it? He comes up to here now (pointing to shoulder)
How are you?

The Fahs lecture is awesome as always. Sandra Sasso says exactly what I would say if I were smarter, and tells 50 stories.

Sadly, I fail to be engaged by the afternoon program, and go for a run instead. This is crazy because it is hot in the mid afternoon sun, but there is public art everywhere, fabulous whimsical sculpture in unexpected places. The wind picks up (note to self, never run by a construction site when it is getting ready to storm). I shower and go back. I am still bored. And homesick. I sneak into a jazz and poetry sundown service. It’s nice. I resolve to come back in the morning.

Guidedaughter and her mamas once again cheer me up. After dinner we dangle our feet in the pool and I go back to the conference with a wet behind. Run into (miraculously) yet another 2 dear colleagues arguing religious education theory outside the worship. I convince one of them to go in with me, and afterwards we get cheap beers and talk about our dogs and kids. She agrees that things seem kind of deflated this year at GA.

Day 5:
Wake depressed. Decide to get up for 8:00 worship anyway. As I’m in the shower I notice how sad I am. Homesickness? Missing my California days? No, there’s something more, something in the air. I decide there is an ambient sadness at GA this year. Why? Our esteemed president ending his 8 year term. The loss of programs and staff to the economic downturn. The changes to GA, the possible shrinking or (my roommate reminds me) the elimination of GA altogether. Yes. Somehow this is comforting to me. It makes sense that GA would be somehow less jubilant in such a year. The morning program is lovely and quiet, and I find yet another old friend to sit with and talk small-church.

I somehow make it through the exhibit hall without buying any jewelry and only $30 of books. A personal best.

At the Starr King Grad Dinner we grieve a beloved professor- Patti Lawrence. I remember how much the school means to me.

I meet Guidedaughter and her Mama at an Intergenerational Dance workshop. She is slow to wake, but by the final moments is ready to dance. She drags her Mama “come to the center!” Even as the workshop ends, she dance from flower to flower on the carpet. We meet her Mommy and head to the Service of the Living Tradition. She does okay for a while, and I show her photos of herself dancing to distract, but Mommy makes the big sacrifice and takes her home for bed. Mama and I remain to hear Mary Harrington, who was finishing seminary the year I began, and was even then admired by all, deliver her beautiful and heart wrenching sermon. She was diagnosed 3 years ago with ALS, and as she gently exhorts us to our responsibilities to the life of the spirit, of appreciating and noticing beauty and connection, there is no possibility for dodging her wisdom. She speaks with undeniable authority. 3000 of us grieve and rededicate our lives as one.

Day 6:
Breakfast with Guidedaughter and the Mamas, goodbyes.

Travel begins at 9:00 am. I write you now from the Detroit airport. It’s 9:50 pm and the 9:36 flight out to Ithaca has yet to arrive. Rode the people mover through the light show twice. Drank beer until my waitress had to close up. I miss my family. It will be good to be home.

Still a Religions Educator

I now serve a family size congregation as their parish minister, but prior to that served 9 years as a Minister of Religious Education. My settlement at my current church feels like a circling round, because my internship was in Parish Ministry, and I was fellowshipped as a parish minister, and in fact had to jump through some logistical hoops to have my specialty changed from parish to religious education. Then, in a clerical error, on the big day when I was presented with my certificate of final fellowship, it said "parish minister." Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something, I thought.

When I left my position as MRE, I dropped my membership in the Religious Educators guild, 'cause who can afford 2 sets of dues? A few weeks back I went to a district retreat for ministers and religious educators, and found myself sitting at an all-religious-educator table at lunch. (It's probably that obstinate "sit with someone you don't know" habit from youth cons). I found I could still talk religious-educator (It'd only been 2 years after all) though I was a little behind on some of the latest curricula. And of course I am always ready to talk yoga, politics, theology, gardening and environmental education. I went from feeling shy about meeting a whole table of colleagues I didn't know after just having met a whole districts worth of new ministers I didn't know, to feeling obstinate- "I will sit with the religious educators, I have a right to be here." And I realized that there is still a part of my identity tied up with religious education, a part of me that still recognizes that table as "my people".

Revered senior colleague Tom Owen-Towle lead us through some reflection throughout our retreat about calling and ministry. And I flashed back to a document someone at the UUA had put out years ago, explaining the many roles an MRE can have. I remembered a listing that had puzzled me at the time "An MRE can be the sole minister in a parish" and I thought, is that me? I don't think the congregation thinks of me that way, but they don't seem to mind that I attend the Youth Religious Education meetings, or lead a Coming of Age program. And I have obstinately held since my seminary days that any time a minister leads an Adult RE class, or preaches, or creates programming and action that leads to reflection and growth she is engaged in religious education. Very slowly it dawned- could it be I'm still a Religious Educator after all?

How's Business?

I know some of you read this blog only for the business updates, and I know it's been a while. The truth is, May was a slow month, and the bills from re-stocking the inventory in April have arrived. Folks still buy plenty of guitar strings and drum heads, and the starter amps fly out of the store I'm told, but the high-end stuff mostly just waits for better times.

My partner has kicked into high gear with publicity and advertising. Most nights see him at the dining room table moving words back and forth a millimeter or so on Adobe Illustrator as he creates adds, bumper stickers, fliers, coupons. It seems like everyone should know about a music store that's been in town since 1951, but I met a local musician the other day who had never heard of the place. So our job now is just to get to know every musician in the county. Wish us luck.

When anxiety rises, I remind my partner and myself that every small business struggles in this economy, but we probably wouldn't have been able to buy a business in the boom times. Our goal is just to make it through this downturn, however long that lasts, to keep paying our bills on-time until the tide comes back in. In the meantime we still get to be part of the local music scene, and there is some awesome music here to be enjoyed.

Common Ground

On my drive home from church after a committee meeting, my NPR pre-set from the radio world near my home is a Christian Radio station down near the church. I sometimes tune in to hear the preacher on Tuesday nights for a minute or two as I decide what CD to put in. His theology and world view could not be more different from my own, but he's a good preacher. Last Tuesday he was preaching on James 4:13 and the preacher said the trouble with these guys is that they weren't involving God in their plans. He then went on an extended flow about all the devices we have now-a-days to speed up our lives and came to the conclusion that things are moving fast, so we have to be praying constantly, in order to include God in all our decisions which must be made so quickly.

Suddenly I had a flash of another voice I've listened to on that same stretch of rural road. I had recently checked out an audiobook by Carolyn Myss, and now realized she would say the same thing, in that same passionate evangelizing tome of voice, though she would surely say it in a progressive new age kind of way.

And I wondered, is this one of those truths that I can get beyond the ideology and cultural context to engage? Do I believe I should be praying constantly? I mean, I'm more of a meditater than a pray-er, but certainly my contemplative life is not what it could be. But then I found myself wondering- is it polite to pray constantly? Isn't it something you should dress up for and be properly prepared? Is it like when you send too many e-mails out to your congregation and they stop listening? Do I want to clog the airways with junk mail to God?

Then I remembered that I was getting trapped in the stereotypical image of prayer- the "can I please have a new bike" kind. I remembered that when I had a more diligent spiritual life I had realized that for me prayer is mostly listening. This I could see- maybe praying constantly means just keeping the line open. Then the station faded to static, and I put in my CD.