An Open Letter: Fencing in the Playground

I thought this edited version of a response I've written to a Parkview parent may put some of this transition in perspective. As you may already know, I've accepted the position of Pastor of Discipleship for Children and Adults at Belmont United Methodist Church here in Dayton. Changing churches is always a bittersweet time, saying goodbye and then saying hello in the very next breath. It can be fraught with misunderstanding and disappointment as well as excitement and anticipation.

That said, optimistically I believe, I have been a victim of unintended consequences. The fact is, the Church of the Nazarene directly connects monetary compensation with pastoral status from district licensing on. That may not make a whole lot of sense, but what it means is, if I'm not paid, technically the experience side shouldn't count. So, for instance, if Evan were to go back to being volunteer at a church, even after almost 6 years (or more) in full time ministry, he would have to start over on his years of experience in order to be ordained. And technically, according to general church policy, it wouldn't matter how much I worked, without some sort of acknowledged compensation that experience doesn't count for ministry time. I don't know that those consequences of that policy are intended, but I've been enjoying the good will of church leadership ever since I offered to forego my salary way back in Kansas City. Because I have been willing to continue to forego any kind of compensation or salary (granted, so that I could continue to serve in some capacity alongside Evan, and not pushing the issue from the beginning), I have had to have 'special status' as an ordination candidate and eventually elder so that any of my experience would count. I've been burned by this already.

That's not to excuse it, but just give a little bigger picture. And honestly, the fact that I am a woman seems to complicate the issue even further (but that's a whole 'nother can of worms). So, with that being said, I did not decide to leave Parkview simply because I'm not being paid. Obviously, that has contributed to the difficulty of navigating the situation, but it definitely is not THE reason. I want to be clear about that. I'm not bitter or angry. I think the opportunity for us to come to Parkview opened up exactly when we needed it. I still believe that was a huge answer to prayer, considering the (literal) desert we were in. And I think when this opportunity at Belmont opened up, I had to at least see what the possibilities might be. When the door opened for service that proactively sought out a person with my gifts, experience and passions, I chose to step through it.

The last thing is that almost everyone (at least those that have talked directly to me) has been extremely positive and supportive. I have not sensed a mean or ungracious or even ignorant spirit that could have been. Of course, most of those that we've talked to know us and know our hearts, but I don't want to give that impression of the people at Parkview. I doubt most have any inkling of the issues at play.

I know that me not being at the same church with Evan will present some challenges, but that's the difficulty of two people who are married having the same call to full-time ministry. This deserves conversation, not condemnation.

I have likened it already to the assumptions people would make about married professionals such as doctors or lawyers. It would not be uncommon for two physicians or two attorneys to be married. But is there any requirement by law or within culture that maintains these couples must practice their profession together and in one office? Is one's ability or effectiveness to heal or practice law dependent upon the other's presence? Perhaps the situation is different, by nuances, but I believe the basic assumption that co-pastoring or team-ministry should be our only option has no basis.

I think Evan is quite capable at being a children's pastor. :) And I can, perhaps, actually function as the supportive pastor's wife that I'm supposed to be. And he for me (pastor's husband, that is).

I'm thinking that this new arrangement is kind of like putting a fence around the playground. Perhaps boundaries need to be clarified for ministry and for marriage to expand and live in the freedom it's supposed to enjoy. Perhaps what our expectations for our ministry have been and what others assumptions for our ministry would be have just not lined up. This has been an unspoken fear that has in some ways held us back from the radical obedience God calls us to, and maybe we've not had the courage to address it until now. And we just are at a point where both expectations and assumptions are going to need to be reevaluated.

But I don't think that's a bad thing because I think the issues at work here are far bigger than just me and this particular situation. It's good though, however hard it may be going through it, to be a part of something bigger than yourself. Any thoughts?

Point C?

Evan had a children's meeting today. He was talking about what the children have been doing with the money from their Sunday morning offering.

Evan and I have reflected on this several times in the past few weeks, especially since his class at Ginghamsburg UMC. It’s been a long road. I don’t think either of us are “naturally” compassionate people. But I pointed out to Evan, as we’ve struggled ourselves with identifying with our very upper middleclass, comfortable congregation, that there is tangible evidence of a movement from point A to point B. Last year the elementary children raised money for Heifer International - $150.00 total for the entire year. Rather pitiful for a church that raises over 1 million dollars a year. I think this was kind of discouraging for Evan.

This year, Evan decided to do the micro-financing for Rwandans. On Sunday mornings he’s been careful to explain the history of the situation between the Hutu’s and Tutsi’s in April 1994. The Hutu’s, after growing tensions with the Tutsi tribe, marched upon the “cockroaches" and "tall trees” (the names they called the Tutsi’s to dehumanize them) and cut the Tutsi trees down with machetes and garden tools. Between eight hundred thousand and one million people died within one hundred days. In six months, our elementary children have raised over $250 for the Rwandan people. Evan has seen children bring $5 and $10 bills of their own money to put in the toilet plungers he uses for offering plates.

Then, in today’s meeting, one of the parents in the meeting suddenly realized what her daughter was talking about the other day as she counted down from five. A child in the world dies from hunger every five seconds, her daughter told her. The mother dismissed it at the time. But her daughter knew better. Even if her daughter could not identify with true hunger or starvation, she could still identify with a nameless child.

It seems to me that true giving originates not from sympathy but from empathy. That is solidarity. We can only give as Christ gave when we attempt to walk in someone else's shoes. I admit I usually fail miserably at this because usually when I give, I like it -- because it makes ME feel better about myself. My pity for someone else’s situation rarely crosses over to something Christlike. But when I have done it right, it hurts. Shouldn’t I grieve? Shouldn’t I really lose something? The logical end of following Christ does not end at our own salvation. It is taking up the very cross he bore through the streets of his beloved city; it is sacrifice for others.
Do we kid ourselves otherwise? Thinking that the goal of drawing our children and families into Christian service is that they will enjoy it. That they find “fulfillment.” It becomes another drug, another Baal of choice, that widens the gulf between “us” and “them;” between ourselves and our neighbor.

I love the hymn of Philippians 2. It’s something I haven’t gotten past because I haven’t gotten there yet.

If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.
Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father. (NRSV)

Time Out!

I been working almost exclusively with pre-schoolers the past 2 years at church and thoroughly enjoying watching Super Nanny. slate.com recently published a great article on effective use of the timeout.

It underscores what we (Evan and I), as behaviorists, have said before about longterm effective reinforcement - Positive/negative, Certain and Immediate consequences. I am not a parent, but I have experienced many times in a multitude of contexts how consistency and calmness results in obedience and respect. I'm pretty good about the immediate and the calmness aspects. I had not considered the timing. When I enforce a timeout with a child, I usually use terms like "take a break," rather than "time out," in part, simply to remove them immediately from the bad behavior and create a space where they can start over with new positive behaviors. I also try to name specifically what their doing wrong. Even though some things we have read have said to not provide an individual warning once the rules for behavior are laid out, I try to enforce the consequence after only one warning. That can be a hard thing to do.

The other thing I've noticed is that, even at a young age, the child will try to shift blame or include others in the correction. (This is true of tattling in general.) This may not seem fair, but I simply call the child on his/her own behavior. e.g. "I told you not to do this . . . not Bud. You need to think about your actions not Bud's. Etc."

I think this has been pretty effective because I think they sense I'm not there to make their lives miserable. They also know I mean what I say. And they will obey me, then, in other things as well.

These are some great kids!

What do you think about this article's definition of the time out? What would your greatest weakness be in implementing the technique according to the article? Any other suggestions in making the timeout effective?