Freedom (from FreshDay.org)

Freedom

I sat in the 2nd pew of the small church I grew up in - the church my grandfather built and my family were charter members of, the church where my grandmother and I baked the unleavened bread for the Lord’s Supper, and picked flowers from our garden to grace the altar, where my dog got a certificate of perfect attendance every year for Vacation Bible School, where my mother played the piano for worship, where we threw baby showers in the Fellowship Hall for unmarried teen mothers, the church just down the street from our small shotgun house, where my grandmother fed the hobos riding the trains that ran behind our house - and looking up into the face of the angry preacher shouting that we were all going to burn in the eternal fires of hell if we didn’t do something, or believe something, or…the specifics don’t matter. I knew, even as an 8-year-old, that there was something intrinsically wrong with his fear-mongering, threatening, terrifying message.

A couple of years later, I listened to a Sunday School teacher talking about heaven and hell, and said to her, “That doesn’t sound right to me.” So she asked me to explain heaven and hell to her. I described them in terms of what I now recognize as quantum physics. “But, that’s not what the BIBLE says about heaven and hell!” she exclaimed, mortified at my theory of energy and collective consciousness. But it seemed so consistent, to me, with Jesus’ message, that even as a child the rest seemed like nothing more than an allegory.

Now, 40 years later, religion is still mostly a cult of fear, shame, and intimidation. The institution of the church has made the bible, a book of human words about that which transcends human words, an idol, a weapon to be wielded as needed and desired for control, political gain, and to justify oppression and hatred.

Rather than being, like Jesus, the champion of justice for the poor and oppressed, rather than leading the way to a better society, the mainline church is in some instances a partner in the violence toward anyone who dares to take the message of Jesus seriously, who dares to question the status quo, who has a disagreement with the Pharisaic approach to scripture and tradition.

Jesus understood that organized religion has many idols, even in the first century, and his was a radical reinterpretation of the tradition. He corrected the trajectory of religious interpretation. But the 21st century church has fallen into the same traps as the Pharisees, focusing on polity and doctrine rather than embodying Jesus’ message of love, forgiveness, and service to the marginalized.

We have lost our way. Again.

I considered renouncing my faith this year and leaving the church, but I still believe in the mission and teachings of Jesus. I still believe, as Jesus said, that the “Spirit of God dwells in” us. I still believe that the Kingdom of God has come near, every time we show love, and offer grace, and bring healing and comfort to those who suffer.

I am finished with arguing and debates and endless bickering. I am ashamed of my own denomination. I am adopting the religion of Christ.

Through the books and bibles of time I've made up my mind I don't condemn, 
I don't convert, [sic]

'Cause no one is gonna lose their soul

Love is my religion,

(Ziggy Marley)

‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ He said to him, ‘ “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’Matthew 22: 36-40

I’m declaring my freedom from the constraints and misguided control of the institution of the church. Now love is my religion, because that is what Jesus taught.

Note: I write a monthly column for FreshDay.org. It's a terrific publication. I encourage you to check it out!

Radical Hospitality

“Radical Hospitality”

The Reverend Dr. Teresa Angle-Young

Watkinsville First United Methodist Church

June 28, 2015

I Peter 4:8b-10a (from the Translation called The Message)

Love each other as if your life depended on it. Love makes up for practically anything. Be quick to give a meal to the hungry, a bed to the homeless—cheerfully. Be generous with the different things God gave you, passing them around so all get in on it: if words, let it be God's words; if help, let it be God's hearty help. That way, God's bright presence will be evident in everything

I am so happy to be here with you. Phil and I have never been welcomed as warmly as we have here. Almost 30 of you showed up to unload our moving trucks on one of the hottest days of summer. You brought ice and water and made our bed and brought us a garbage can and sent over fresh produce from your gardens and did whatever you could to help us and make us feel welcomed. It was and continues to be a beautiful example of famous Southern hospitality, and for that we are so grateful. You have already showered us with blessing upon blessing!

Many years ago, when I was in graduate school at Emory, I took a class called “Systematic Theology” which is required of all divinity students.  In the final exam, we were surprised to be asked this question:  If you were to propose a new sacrament for the church, what would it be and why? A sacrament is a ritual that was instituted by Christ, so it has to be biblical, and communicates God’s grace to the participants.  In the United Methodist tradition, we have two sacraments, baptism and Holy Communion. So, we were charged with coming up with a ritual or practice that we could evidence in scripture as being practiced by Christ that is also a means of communicating God’s grace and love to the world.  I knew, in a second, what my answer would be. 

Hospitality.  If I were to add a sacrament to the church doctrine it would be the sacrament of hospitality. 

There is a long tradition of hospitality in the Bible, beginning in Genesis and weaving all throughout scripture.  In Genesis 18, Abraham and Sarah are blessed with a child after showing generous hospitality to three divine strangers.  Lot, too entertains these divine travelers and in turn, he and his family are offered the chance to flee from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. And there are many other examples in the Old Testament where strangers in the land are treated with the same hospitality with which one would treat a beloved friend or relative. 

In the New Testament, one of the most moving examples of hospitality is Joseph, the man who is engaged to Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Joseph took a divine stranger – Jesus – into his home and raised him as his own son.  That was an act of radical hospitality. 

But I believe our best example for radical hospitality is Jesus.  Jesus taught about hospitality in his parables, and practiced hospitality through his actions.  He even turned water into wine as his first miracle, in order for a wedding host to show hospitality to his guests. We have the parable of the prodigal son.  A man had two sons.  One of them decided to ask for his inheritance early and left the family farm to blow his money on the indulgences of the world.  The other son stayed behind and was a dutiful son, helping the father on the farm and being the model child.  When the prodigal son returned to the farm, expecting to be treated poorly by his family, the father threw a huge party welcoming him home.  Jesus taught in the story that it didn’t matter whether or not the son deserved the father’s generosity and hospitality, rather that it was simply the right and loving thing to do to provide the hospitality anyway. In doing so, Jesus revealed a characteristic of God.

This thread of hospitality - irrespective of the status or standing of the guest or stranger - is woven throughout scripture in the Old Testament and the New Testaments.  So, exactly what is hospitality?

Is hospitality making sure there are chocolates on the pillow and extra toothpaste in the bathroom when you have a guest?  Well, yes and no.  All throughout scripture we see examples of hospitality that include taking care of the physical needs of the guest, such as food and shelter, so it seems we are not to ignore those aspects of care, but particularly with Jesus, hospitality becomes something more, something beyond simple care.  Hospitality becomes healing.  Hospitality becomes life giving.  Hospitality restores people to wholeness in a myriad of ways, sometimes physically, sometimes socially, sometimes emotionally, sometimes psychologically, and always spiritually.  Hospitality becomes a spiritual tool and once it becomes habit, once it is integrated into who we are, it transforms. 

In scripture, the Greek word for hospitality is philoxenia (fil-ah-zeen-ee-a), which derives from philo, a word you might recognize from the name Philadelphia, which we know as the City of Brotherly and Sisterly Love, and xenia, which means stranger.  So, hospitality in the Bible means, “love of stranger.”  It does not just mean “niceness to stranger.”  It means genuine, selfless, extravagant, full out love of stranger.  When we look back at the Abraham and Sarah story, I think it’s important to note that when the three strangers showed up at Abraham’s tent, Abraham did not begrudgingly go out and find the skinniest calf to serve nor did he tell Sarah to pull out last year’s grain and fry up a cake.  He called for the finest of what he had and prepared a feast.  And so we are called, as the church, God’s representatives in the world, to offer hospitality with enthusiasm, offering up the best of what we have to those around us, not what we have leftover.

But hospitality is more than just sharing food and shelter with others.  In his book “Reaching Out: Three Movements of the Spiritual Life” mystic, monk, and distinguished professor at Notre Dame, Harvard, and Yale, Henri Nouwen, said that there are three critical movements in the Christian’s life.  The first involves moving from loneliness to solitude, and the focus is on us as we learn to dwell comfortably in solitude with Christ.  The second is the development of spiritual maturity to move from hostility to hospitality, and of course, the focus in on our relationships with others as we strive to become more like Christ.  That leads to the third spiritual movement, our movement toward God.  Without the first two movements, we cannot make the third move.  So Nouwen argues we must find peace within ourselves, make peace with others and move toward this idea of radical and selfless hospitality, before we can truly experience a move toward God. The practice of hospitality actually brings us closer to God.

And it’s important to exercise this hospitality with whomever comes into our lives.  In other words, just as Abraham and Sarah offered hospitality to the three strangers without quizzing them about their worth and position, and just as Jesus offered love and hospitality to those in the community others would deem as unworthy, we are called to offer our hospitality to those who are before us, whomever they may be. 

So how do we do that?  I think we must do what the author of our scripture passage today tells us to do: Love each other as if your life depended on it. Hospitality means really opening yourself up and becoming vulnerable, making space for someone that you might not ordinarily allow into your life.  Hospitality means looking past those things that separate us from each other, like dress, and speech, and possessions, and race, politics, and social standing, and seeing others the way Christ sees them, as beloved members of the family of God.  Adopting an attitude of hospitality means putting aside your own agenda and schedule to really listen to the other person, to pay attention to their needs, and to respond to them in a genuine way.

Hospitality is more than a beautiful table or a comfortable bed or a hot cup of soup or a contribution to the food panty.  Hospitality is making space in your life and in your heart for another person, whether a stranger, a spouse, a child, or a friend, and giving them your time and your attention without resentment – cheerfully, as 1^st Peter reminds us.  Hospitality is making the table bigger to accommodate the stranger, and letting yourself be open to the idea that you might, like Abraham and Joseph, be entertaining a divine guest.  Hospitality is the realization in the very depths of your soul that everything we have is a gift from God, and that by sharing what we have, whether meager or abundant, is to be an instrument of God’s grace and mercy in the world. 

My hope and my prayer for this church and my time with you is that Watkinsville First United Methodist Church will be, for each of you and for the world, a place of safety, a place of love, and a place of extravagant hospitality.  You have shown two strangers, me and Phil, the beauty and hospitality of your hearts. Now may we take that beauty to the streets of Oconee County, and share with our community the Sacrament of Hospitality. Thanks be to God. 

Let us pray:  Gracious and loving God, you said, “when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.”  God we are all, in some way, strangers, lonely and lost, seeking a family of love and acceptance.  We pray that Watkinsville First is such a place for those gathered here and will be so for those who have yet to come.  We ask, God, that you help us to move from hostility to hospitality, from fear to love, and from mistrust to comfort, then empower us to move out into the world and share your unending grace and peace with others.  In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Benediction:

May each day be a new beginning,

a new opportunity to open ourselves

to the mystery and miracle of life

and to give from our hearts in generous hospitality

to a world that needs us.

Go now in the grace and peace of Christ, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

A Southern Winter

For the past dozen years, I've been complaining about mild Southern winters. To call it "winter" is a misnomer. What we have here in the Southern US is more the "mud season." It's messy. It's depressing. It's frustrating. It's ugly.

For those of us with dogs, winter in the South means muddy paws and the constant mopping of floors and the inertia that comes from day after day of dreariness. It's putting on a coat because it's just chilly enough to need one, only to wrestle out of it as soon as you get in the car because it's not chilly enough to need one for long.

I miss outdoor ice skating. I miss roaring fires and snow days. I miss cute winter coats.

But lately I've come to appreciate something about Southern winters, thanks to two special men.

Every day as I drive to work, I pass two homeless men that live under a bridge in downtown Atlanta. They are always there, either sleeping (because I go to work at 5:30 am), or walking slowly, pushing shopping carts filled with plastic garbage bags that contain the full sum of their possessions. And I know that under that bridge are dozens more homeless. But these two men...they have become mine to follow, to watch, to worry about. Sometimes I leave zip loc bags of protein bars and small personal care items under the bridge, right by the grate that they've bent just enough to slip through. Every day I pray for them, and when I don't see them for a day or two, I feel a cold nausea in the pit of my stomach.

Most nights I know they'll be okay, because Southern winters are gentle. But on the nights when the wind howls and the temperatures drop, I can barely sleep. I lay awake in my warm bed, with my well-fed dogs snoring as they sleep on their padded matching beds, and I worry. I worry about my two men, and I worry about the homeless animals in the world. I think about the faces of the dogs I post almost daily on Facebook from the animal shelter, and I wonder how many animals are freezing to death on the unusual cold Southern winter night. I think about my daughter's rescued dog, my grand-dog, Radar, who before she found him spent most of his young life on the streets, fending for himself, eventually being hit by a car, and I say a prayer of thanks that many are willing to take in the broken, the scared, the dirty, the mentally ill, the rejected, the misunderstood, the lonely, the abandoned.

I remember that Jesus never turned his back on suffering. I want to turn my back. It's so hard to look into the face of real suffering. I want to ignore that kind of suffering. But then, I am a follower of Jesus...so I pray I have the heart and the stomach to keep looking.

I think it's no coincidence that Southern winters are the precursor of Lent. As I enter into the time of reflection and self-examination that will come soon, I remind myself that there is a blessing in the mildness of a Southern winter. Fewer people and animals will die. And I remember that there is a deep and glorious beauty in each and every living creature.

And I am thankful that this year, there is no snow. I am thankful that this year, there is rain enough to fill the used plastic water jugs that "my men" use to capture water, and to make puddles for the Radars of the world to drink from. I am thankful for relatively warm temperatures for people who struggle to heat their homes.

I am reminded that a mild Southern winter is a gift for many. I am reminded that some mud is a small price to pay for life.

Six Simple Questions to Turn Average Volunteers into Rockstars

Engaging and mobilizing volunteers can feel like a daunting challenge. However, I have found that a few simple questions can make a huge difference. 

The most common complaint I hear from volunteers is frustration because they feel like they have to read minds. They don’t know how they are doing and how they can do better. They are unsure who is in charge of what, they don’t get useful feedback, and so they burn out.

The solution can be simpler than you might think. Small, informal conversations about performance go a long way – especially when they include teachable moments about different situations and details.

It all boils down to asking these six questions of every volunteer: 

1.     What is your responsibility in this area? (In other words, let’s clarify what we’re doing here.)

2.     What are you doing well? (Let’s celebrate!)

3.     What, if anything, can you be doing better? (I’m listening, you’re important to me and I want you to succeed.)

4.     (If appropriate): What will happen if you improve (Let’s make this place the best it can be!)

5.     (If appropriate): What will happen if you don’t improve? (We share responsibility here!)

6.     How can I help? (I’m on your team!)

While all of these questions are important, the last question is especially important. It shows the volunteer that you care, and that you are not merely abdicating responsibility or shifting blame. It shows that you are interested in helping them grow and do what they do with excellence.

Take my free self-assessment about how well you are engaging and mobilizing volunteers  by clicking here. Schedule a free coaching session with me by clicking here.

You are going to want to get this book

In 2008, everything changed, for almost everyone.  A Great Recession hit. Money got tight. People lost jobs. Now we are in what appears to be a slow recovery, but the belt is still pretty tight. No longer do most of us have PR teams and communications staff and dollars in the budget for slick advertising campaigns.

In Steve Mouzon’s new book, “New Media for Designers + Builders” this brilliant and media savvy architect gives practical advice for not only surviving, but thriving, in the somewhat sterile financial landscape in which we find ourselves. Like the agile designer he is, Mouzon assembles the parts and pieces of marketing and PR for those in the design, building sector, and landscape design fields, and tradespeople who work in those areas, and builds a cohesive and coherent plan for letting the world know who you are and what you do. Heck, anyone in business will benefit from the knowledge and wisdom in this book!

How? Through what Mouzon calls, “New Virtues.” Of course, these virtues are not new, but may have become somewhat lost in the competitive business atmosphere that preceded the fall. They are patience, generosity, and connectedness.

Mouzon covers everything from micro-blogging to developing an effective website, and he names names. This is a book filled with resources, links, and opportunities to practice what he preaches about generosity and connectedness. With a creative format and tons of value-added bonuses like embedded links and a website for connecting and sharing ideas, this book is a “how to” on getting seen and being heard. He even lays out a “do this first” approach.

Some books are filled with the philosophy and theory of marketing. New Media for Designers + Builders is NOT that book. While the author offers snippets of supporting thought, the real value in this book is that it takes you from bare ground, to foundation, to design, to the actual build of your brand and marketing. This is the real deal.

I give this excellent book my full endorsement. Check it out here: www.nm4db.com

It will also be available on Amazon and iBook soon. Even if you are NOT in the design/building world, the advice in this book will help you build your brand!

Steve is also an excellent speaker and presenter. I’ve hired him myself! Here is a bit about him:

Steve Mouzon is an architect, urbanist, author, blogger, and photographer from Miami. He founded the New Urban Guild, which helped foster the Katrina Cottages movement. The Guild hosts Project:SmartDwelling, which works to redefine the house to be much smaller and more sustainable. Steve founded and is a board member of the Guild Foundation; it hosts the Original Green initiative. Steve speaks regularly across the US and abroad on sustainability issues. He blogs on the Original Green Blog and Useful Stuff. He also posts to the Original Green Twitter stream.

Control Freak

I came to a terrifying realization today. 

I am not in control.

No matter how much I try, I cannot control life, the world, or much of anything.  I can't control whether or not my church is successful, even though I work very hard to make it so.  I can't control whether or not people get sick, or well, including me, although I try my best to eat right and stay healthy and encourage those around me to do the same too.  I can't control how others think, or the decisions they make, but I try to model responsible behavior and make reasonable and rational cases for what I believe is right.  I can't control if someone loves me, or hates me, or ignores me, or makes fun of me, or if they do and say unkind things to others.

You'd think a reasonable and rational person such as myself would know that already.  Well, apparently not.  (or the obvious is true...that I'm really not as reasonable and rational as I would like to believe!)

See, I grew up believing that if I did everything "right" that everything in life would turn out fine.  Didn't happen.  I look around at the world and I see it happening to others who are also trying very hard to do everything right, and then seeing bad things happen.

If I could, I would "fix" things and people.  Sometimes I make the huge mistake of thinking I'm smart enough to do that.  Well, apparently not.

I joke about this, but it's a serious thing, and at 54, a realization I am just coming to truly embrace.

As an adult child of an alcoholic, I really want to control my world.  But I cannot.

I'm reminded today of what many of you who have fought addictions already know is the foundation of recovery.  Admitting I am powerless.  Or in my case, that my power can only be over how I respond and react and how I conduct myself. 

Control is my addiction, and I am powerless over it. 

Every single place of fear in my life comes from that core realization.....I am not in control of life...of anything.

My hope is that by taking that first step...admitting that I have a problem, I'll begin to loosen the white-knuckled grip I have on the reins and just try to hold on for the ride.  Maybe then God, the power of the universe, the One that is in me and strengthens me, will take over. 

So, for 2013, I have one resolution:

God, give me grace to accept with serenity

the things that cannot be changed,

Courage to change the things

which should be changed,

and the Wisdom to distinguish

the one from the other.

Living one day at a time,

Enjoying one moment at a time,

Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,

Taking, as Jesus did,

This sinful world as it is,

Not as I would have it,

Trusting that You will make all things right,

If I surrender to Your will,

So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,

And supremely happy with You forever in the next.

Amen.

 

What is your soft, vulnerable spot?  What makes you shudder when it goes thump in the night? 

The Coat Off Our Back

As a child, whenever my grandmother would talk about a generous person, she would usually end with the declaration, "He would give a stranger the coat off his back."  I've always associated this statement with true generosity, concern, and Christian love.  I mean, after all, we are all willing to do just about anything...for the people we know and love.  But to show that kind of love to a stranger is the mark of a truly caring person.

A few weeks ago the song "They Will Know We are Christians by Our Love" got stuck in my head.  As I hummed along, that song melded with the phrase so often used by my grandmother, and the mission project "Coat Off Your Back" was born.  

On Christmas Eve, members of our congregation will literally give the coats off their backs to be donated to MUST Ministries.  As we each make the walk from our warm and comfortable church to our warm and comfortable cars, in that cold and dark space between, we will stand in solidarity with the homeless and hungry, and we will let the world know we are Christians by our love for a stranger.  

MUST Ministries saw my Facebook post about this event and called to tell me that they are stealing the idea and asking other churches to do the same.  So on Christmas Eve, my prayer is that God and my grandmother are looking down on us and smiling, and that many others across the North Georgia Conference will join in this effort and give the coats off their backs.  The recipients of the coats may never see our faces, but they will feel our love.  And they'll know we are Christians by our love.

 

Standing in the gap,

Teresa

Expectant Waiting....really?

Advent.  A time of "expectant waiting."  As we begin a new year (in the Christian calendar) this coming Sunday, the idea of expectant waiting is sounding great to me.  It's just not much of a reality for most of us during this incredibly busy time of the year.

I am careful to always finish my Christmas shopping before Thanksgiving in the hopes of creating an atmosphere of expectant waiting.  But I find there is always something to fill the space, some new project, work, the needs of others, life. 

So in a world where most of us become impatient waiting on a digital music download, or, horrors, having to wait in line for more than 5 minutes at the market, how to we wait expectantly?

I think what we look for is what we find.

If we wait and watch, expecting to find God all around us, expecting to see grace, and love, and hope, we will find our expectations realized. 

So even in the midst of the chaos of shopping, cooking, cleaning, guests, and social obligations, my prayer is that we wait, expectant, for opportunities to love, to be peaceful, to serve, to meet the needs of others, to love and be loved.

What we look for is what we find.

Peace,
Teresa

Bold Boundaries and Deep Listening

Today I was a guest blogger on the Coaching4Clergy site.  Please visit it for some great info and training!  My thanks to J. Val Hastings MCC for the invitation to blog!

To Listen Deeply, Clergy Need Bold Boundaries

October 24, 2012 By c4cweb

 The following is a guest post by Reverend Teresa Angle-Young, one of my co-authors in Ministry 3.0.
In a recent coaching session with a pastor, he said, “I simply cannot hear God’s voice anymore.” He said this with a combination of fatigue, exasperation, fear and anger. After an hour of deeply listening to him, what I heard was a life too full – full of meetings, commitments and stress – a life overextended. Surely there was no time to stop and listen deeply to God. There was no time to listen deeply to his congregation. There was no time to listen deeply to the wisdom of scripture. And it was showing in a diminished quality to his sermons.
Most clergy have big hearts, full of compassion, and have a tendency to want to be all to all, usually at the expense of their personal lives, their health, and their own needs and desires, and often at the expense of being able to listen to God. While Jesus does call us to give selflessly, even Jesus took time away from the demands of ministry to take care of himself, to pray, to dine with friends, to form and nurture relationships, and to rest. He took time to listen deeply, to those around him and to God.
Why do we feel we can do more than Jesus?
One of the biggest challenges of ministry is knowing when to shut off the phone, to turn off the computer, and to simply rest and enjoy life. In order to provide care for others, we must care for ourselves. And in order to be an effective preacher, we must create boundaries to protect both our “down” time as well as our sermon preparation time.
Here are a few suggestions. Not every one will work for you, and some will not even apply to you. Boundaries are not the same for everyone, so consider these and pick the ones that you want to try.

•  Schedule one hour on your calendar at the beginning of the week to simply read your sermon text, pray over the text, and reflect on the text. Do not take calls or allow interruptions during this time.
• Observe a weekly sabbath. I know. I know. It is hard. But it’s also a commandment, and there is a good reason for that. Just do it.
• Look at your entire work week and try to map out where you spend your time. For example, there are 168 hours in a week. My advice is that you should sleep 1/3 of the time (56 hours), work 1/3 of the time (56 hours), and spend the other 1/3 (56 hours) in recreation, hobbies and other non-work related pursuits. Most clergy spend far more than 56 hours a week in ministry, at the expense of either sleep or family, friends, pets, fun, relaxation, hobbies, SABBATH, etc.
• Read a lot of non-religious writing. You’ll be shocked at how many sermon illustrations you’ll suddenly see.
• Go to movies, watch the news, and read blogs on the Internet. Listen to music. Read poetry. Read fiction. Eavesdrop on conversations! People watch! Stay up on current affairs. Again, it’s that sermon illustration thing…
• Eat the best, most nutritious food you can afford, and drink a lot of water. Not only will your body thank you, but your vocal chords will too. Cut out sugar-laden soft drinks.
• Exercise. Take a walk. Get your body moving in some way every couple of hours for at least 10 minutes or so. If you have physical limitations, consult your doctor and do what you are able to do. If nothing else, move to a different location and give yourself a few minutes just to drink in a new view or get some fresh air.

By creating boundaries you also have the opportunity to create balance, and in that balance, you’ll have time to listen, deeply, to the voice of God.
The Reverend Teresa Angle-Young is a United Methodist pastor and church planter in Atlanta, Georgia. Teresa coaches and consults with church planters, preachers, and speakers. This post is an excerpt from her upcoming book, Stressless Preaching: Getting to Sunday Without Losing Your Religion, coming November 2013 and available for pre-order on her website at www.stresslesspreaching.com. You can win a free copy by subscribing to Teresa’s newsletter before November 30, 2012.
Blessings,
Reverend Teresa Angle-Young

Filed Under: Val's Blog Tagged With: clergy training, coaching for clergy, teaching for clergy

Difficult Conversations & Deep Listening

    Arguably the most useful book in my library, other than my Bible, is “Difficult Conversations: How to Discuss What Matters Most” which came out of the Harvard Negotiation Project.  In it are great tips on how to turn a potential argument or conflict into a win-win for all parties.  I’ve used this book in my personal life, in business negotiations, in my coaching practice, in ministry, and in counseling couples in conflict. 

    The biggest shift we have to make when having difficult or uncomfortable conversations is to see the interaction as an opportunity to learn, not an opportunity to persuade or win.  And the only way to do that is to listen deeply to the other parties and to explore each others stories.  That’s when a potential fight turns into a discussion about how to clarify and problem solve so that everyone feels heard, affirmed, and validated.  In this way, the focus is on sharing, understanding, resolution, compromise, and growth, and when that is the focus, issues around blame diminish.

The next time you expect a difficult conversation, use these deep listening tools:

 Center yourself in prayer or meditation to create space in your heart and mind and ask yourself:
    What are my deepest feelings about this issue?
    What do I most want to communicate to the others involved about this issue?
    Where do I believe God is leading me?
Deep listening begins with listening to your own heart and mind and examining the feelings and emotions the situation evokes in you.

 During the conversation, ask more questions that you offer comments.  See what you can learn about the other persons involved and their feelings and thoughts.
    What do they need you to know about this issue?
    How does this look from their corner of the room?
    What emotions are behind their story?
Remember, this is a learning conversation.  Your goal is to discover and uncover what is really at the heart of the issue for the other person.  In that way, you are best equipped to address their concerns and fears.  You find out what is really important so no time is wasted on points that are really not central.

 Clarify anything you have questions about, and repeat your understanding of their story back to them.
    What I hear you saying is...
    I would like to learn more about your thoughts on this.
    I can hear the (insert emotion, statement of concern, etc.) in your voice.
    Please tell me more about this.
    I’d like you to clarify something for me.  I want to be sure I understand.
    This is my understanding of how you see this...
Often in difficult conversations, each person simply wants to feel that their position has been heard and be assured that you truly understand their position.  Make it your goal to really “walk a mile in their shoes” so that you approach the conversation with kindness and fairness.

    When we listen deeply, we learn much about ourselves and others, and in doing so, we open up opportunities for resolution that benefits everyone.

Peace,
Teresa

The Carrot

There is always a carrot dangling just out of my reach.  Yeah, I'm that sort of girl.  No matter what goal I set, when I'm close, or when I reach the goal, I always set another one just out of my reach...for now.

Now, some of you may think that is a good thing, to always strive to do better, or do more, but it is not. It's not because I never stop to really enjoy where I AM.  I'm always looking at WHAT'S NEXT...

That's a dangerous thing, in my work, in my ministry, in life, in relationships, in general. 

Setting goals is great.  I'm big on goal setting.  But I'm discovering it's healthy, and even critical, to take time and space to enjoy the moments, the small victories, or even the big ones.

Yes, there is STILL a lot to do and a long way to go, and I acknowledge that.  But I want to take a little time just to look around and celebrate where I am now.  I want to do that in my personal life and I want to do that in my work.  I've worked my rear end off (and yet it's still there...how does that happen?), and I have some big goals for the future, but for now, for a little while, I'm going to do a little happy dance for the work I've already done.

Then I'll have some fuel for the next step.  And believe me, there will be a next step!  I'm just like that.

Do you stop and celebrate, or is that carrot always out there, dangling, egging you on?  Is that a good thing, or has it caused you to lose sight of the awesomeness of now?

Think about it.

Teresa

Moving On

Tomorrow we move.  I'm excited about the move, but I'm going to miss our little piece of heaven. 

We've been here for 10 years...longer than I've lived anywhere in my adult life, longer than my children have lived anywhere in their lives.  I came here as a single mother, newly divorced, alone, lonely, leaving behind everything and everyone I knew in order to keep my children in the same town as their father. 

We've lived in a paradise, on a lake, with hawks and geese and ducks and bluebirds, and butterflies, and nature all around.  I re-married on the banks of our lake, and my son picked a flower from our garden for me to add to my bouquet.  We stopped the ceremony for it.

I've nursed sick children, entertained friends, worked into the night on a new church, packed my beauty/baby/now grown daughter for camp and later college, sat alone on the deck staring into the night stars when I couldn't sleep, held my "life dog" in my arms as he lay dying, chased chickens, laughed until I thought I would lose my breath, and cried a river of tears in this place. 

Tomorrow, we start, as my son puts it, a new season. 

Thank you Woodlake Court, for protecting us from storms, keeping us warm in winter and cool in summer, sheltering us from the rain, and giving me a safe, happy place to raise a family. 

I pray my blessings on the young couple that will also begin a new season tomorrow, and on their children.  I hope the memories and good energy of this place will help them build what Phil, Rebecca, Andrew, Marissa, Porkchop, Duke, Buck, Ginger, Nutmeg, Jasmine, Kirby, Sassafras, Shelley, Dinah, and I have had here....a home.  Not just a house, but a home.

And may the love, security, and commitment of our beautiful family go with us to our new home. 

With hope in my heart,
Teresa

Transitions

We move in a week.  Just saying it out loud makes my stomach lurch.  We've lived in this house for 10 years...longer than I've lived anywhere as an adult.  Honestly, I like to move, and I like culling and cleaning out and decluttering.  So why the stomach somersaults?  Transitions are hard, even when they are desirable.

I have friends who are changing jobs, ending marriages, starting relationships, questioning faith, struggling with illness, teetering on addiction, and more, and all those are transitions of one kind or another - from married to single or vice versa, from faith to doubt, from health to disease, from companionship to loss, from sobriety to addiction. 

How do you handle transition and the expected stress that naturally comes with it?  I tend to do two things: have a good cry at least once a day, then turn my attention to the next thing that has to be done.  In that way, I honor the stress, the uncertainty, and the risk, but I don't allow myself to wallow in it.  Life is too short to wallow.  Each moment spent dwelling over the abyss that is fear and regret only increases the risk of falling into the abyss.  I prefer to wipe my eyes, say a prayer of thanks for the lessons/gifts/challenges/growth I've experienced in whatever I'm leaving, then get a big ol' running start and jump headlong into the present.

So cry, laugh, shake your fist, or do whatever you need to do to bring closure, then keep moving ahead. 

Blessings,
Teresa

Never Bought a Father's Day Card

It occurred to me yesterday, as a celebrated Father's Day with my husband that I had never in my life purchased a Father's Day card. 

You may think I'm going to say that I always made a sweet, handmade card.  But no.  I wish that were the case.

My parents were divorced when I was 18 months old and my father lived very far away from us.  He visited a couple of times a year, at first, then rarely as I got older, and then years would go by and I wouldn't hear from him. 

My father suffered from alcoholism.  That's a very polite way of saying that he was a drunk.  He wasn't an elegant but sometimes frustrating man with a drinking problem.  He never held a job for longer than a month.  He called my elementary school drunk insisting they make me come to the phone.  He threatened to kill himself if I didn't persuade my mother to return to him (and I was only six at the time).  He was a mess.  An incredibly handsome, brilliant, talented, tortured mess. 

It just wasn't a greeting card sort of relationship.

When I was in college, my father's girlfriends, who were numerous, were younger than I was.  He would later father a child, now 30, with a woman who was a drug addict and skipped town leaving him with a baby, raised by his family.  She is now an addicted mess too.

But before you think I hated my father, let me set the record straight.  I adored him.  I loved him beyond reason.  I tried everything I knew to get him in recovery.  And when he died, in his early 50s, I attended his funeral and grieved the father I never had, but who taught me everything I needed to know about the dangers of addiction, about loneliness, about the courage needed to fight demons, and most of all, about forgiveness.  I learned how to work hard and stay away from drugs and alcohol.  I learned to build and sustain healthy relationships.  I learned about boundaries.  And I learned a lot about grace.

His family loved and cared for him for the duration.  Enabling?  Probably.  I don't recommend it by the way.  But they tried, the best they could, and he likely lived a lot longer because of them.

A few weeks ago, my aunt called to say that she wanted to send me my parent's wedding pictures and a few heirlooms from Ireland that my great-great-grandfather brought over when he married my native american great-great-grandmother.  I was delighted, not just about the pictures and the things, but delighted that for the first time in my life, I was able to thank her for taking care of my dad, for the grace she had shown in dealing with his disease.  She cried.  I smiled.

So even though we didn't have a Hallmark relationship, my father taught me much.  He was well loved, by me and by many.  Now, I see those who struggle and suffer in a different way.

Was my father's illness God's plan?  Of course not!  Did God help me see through a different, more compassionate lens because of my experience with his illness?  Absolutely. 

So for those of you who may have had difficult relationships with your father, I encourage you to allow God to heal that by seeing the grace in it.  I didn't get what I wanted, but I got something very valuable. 

Happy Father's Day Daddy. 

Teresa

So Who am I?

Do you ever struggle with self-doubt?  I believe that even the most confident person has moments of self-doubt (unless they are either delusional or totally self actuated)!

I don't consider myself a risk taker, but I am an opportunity taker.  If I am given an opening, I will "go for it" just about every time.  And why not?  In 100 years, will anyone even know if I risked and failed, or missed the mark?  Am I really all that?

I think we both inflate our own importance and minimize our own potential.  We are too shy or embarrassed or lack the confidence to think we can and should be happy and successful and accomplished, and that puts more importance on our individual selves than is probably healthy.  And yet, we also forget that we are part of an organism, of a greater creation, that needs each individual entity functioning at optimal capacity in order to be healthy.  So, we are both a small cog and part of a great machinery.

As I anticipate the publication of a book in July, and another in August or September, write my doctoral dissertation, begin another book for publication in August 2013, step into certified professional coaching, continue growing a unique and wonderful community of faith, see my changing role as a parent of two adults rather than two children, and dream of all my future may hold, I am not immune to that nagging self-doubt, that fear of failure or ridicule.  After all, who am I? 

Well, isn't that just the bottom line, the heart of the matter?  Who am I?

I am, like all of you, created in the image of God, filled with God's own spirit, bold and timid, hopeful and conflicted, eager and wary.  But in those moments when I see the door open, and I catch a glimpse of who I really am and what can be if I am only willing to seize the ring, I am filled with gratitude at the opportunities that the universe provides, and ready to jump, head long and with a shout of joy, into life.  And I hope you will too.

Ready?  Set.  Go!

Teresa

www.stresslesspreaching.com

The Rule of 56

Does your life have balance?  Most of us are way out of whack when it comes to creating time for rest, work, and recreation.  A good friend of mine pointed out to me some time ago the Rule of 56.

Look at your entire week and try to map out where you spend your time then check for balance.  For example, there are  168 hours in a week.  My advice is that you should sleep 1/3 of the time (56 hours), work 1/3 of the time (56 hours), and spend the other 1/3 (56 hours) in recreation, hobbies, and other non-work related pursuits.  Most of us spend far more than 56 hours a week working, at the expense of either sleep or family/friends/pets/fun/relaxation/hobbies/SABBATH/etc. 

Where do you need to create balance?

I cover this and more in my book, Stressless Preaching, which will be released in July!

The Journey

This has been quite a couple of weeks.  Last week, I was reeling with disappointment and sadness after watching the General Conference of the United Methodist Church.  My heart ached.  I was angry.  I felt conflicted.  And all of those emotions are still there, but I found solace and strength in seeing the huge numbers of clergy and laity who have responded in similar outrage and sadness.  My sadness has slowly started to turn to hopefulness, hope founded in a renewed vision for the church, hope founded in an unwillingness to stay silent any longer.

Then came this week.  I cannot even tell you how many wonderful things have happened this week.  It's amazing the difference a week can make.  This week, things just started happening.  But as I examine each thing, I realize these are not sudden graces.  I've been working on and toward all of these things for weeks, months, sometimes years.

Sometimes I am so short-sighted.  My emotions hinge on what is happening right here, right now, rather than seeing the long picture.  I am focused on the path I am on, one step at a time, and when that path is rocky or steep or my feet hurt or I'm out of breath and energy, like any human, I get discouraged.  Some might call that mindfulness, or living in the present, but that's not true.  Mindfulness is being in the moment, then letting it go in order to experience the next moment.  I was bogged down in the previous moment.

My plan is to try to focus more on the big picture, and to see how the small things, the habits and practices of each day, are either furthering me on the journey or wasting my energy.  What difference does one set back make if I am making steady progress in the right direction?  What difference does one General Conference make when so many are throwing off the constraints of church politics and flinging open the doors of our churches in love?

This week, I wish for myself and for all of you, that we look past the immediate to see the graces afforded us every day.  To feel the pain of the pebble in our shoe, and to understand that it's okay to stop for a moment, remove it, and then keep walking.

Hoping to see you on the hike.

Teresa

A Prayer for Lent

I wrote this for our service a few weeks ago, and several of you have asked for a copy.  I hope it brings you peace.

God, in the stillness of this moment, I allow myself to feel your healing presence. 
I allow myself to feel your holy energy surrounding me like a familiar blanket, soft, warm, and safe. 
In this moment, I release my fear, my worry, my anger, and any negative emotion I may be feeling.
Enfolded in your power, I relax into your goodness, your light, and I rest here for as long as I need.
I open my heart to your renewing love.
I open my heart to forgiveness.
I open my heart to receive love from others.
And in this moment, I see myself as you see me...a beautiful and  perfect child of the Universe.
My life is your gift to me.  The way I choose to live it is my gift to you. 
As I make this journey through Lent, show me a clear path to you.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Reverend Teresa Angle-Young (Feb. 2012)

Finding Hope

Lent is always a very interesting time for me, a time to assess and reassess, to look deeply into my heart and soul and ask the hard questions, the probing questions, about my life, about my witness, and about my spirit. 

When Jesus entered the desert for 40 days, he struggled.  He wrestled with his demons.  He was tempted by his frailties.  He had to decide if he would take what the world offered, or live into a new reality, a new hope.  He chose hope.  And he chose it knowing that it might just get him killed, but he took that risk in order to show us a better way, a higher path, and in doing so, he revealed the heart of God.

Sometimes decisions are difficult, sometimes life is challenging and unfair, and we all have to struggle with our own humanity, face our own temptations and demons, and make the decision to live bravely in the face of those things, or to succumb to the easy path.

As we each take that inventory of our lives, as we try to live into the example of Jesus, my prayer for myself and for each of you is that we look past the temptation, past the fear, and past the loneliness in our lives, to find hope, that we face challenges with courage and resolve, and most of all, that like Jesus, we remember who we are, beloved children of God, made in God's image, and carrying the light of God's spirit inside of us. 

May your light shine in the wilderness.

Blessings for a holy Lent,
Teresa

Entering the Wilderness

When we travel, we all want things to go smoothly, to have fun, and to stay safe.  But not all journeys are like that.  Such is the journey through Lent, which we embark upon today.

Today is Ash Wednesday, a day when we are reminded that life is fleeting, and often too short, and that we waste a lot of it.  It is a day when we mark the beginning of a journey, one that takes us inside ourselves, where we take that fearless moral inventory, face our demons, are confronted with temptation, and ultimately, where we face our greatest questions about faith and God. 

It is not an easy journey.  It is dangerous, and scary, to stare into the reality of our mortality, at the reality of who we really are and how we are spending the life we have been given, and then to look into the face of God and see how we measure up to being the person that God created us to be, in God's own image, with God's own spirit residing in us. 

I cannot pray for any of us to have an easy journey.  Rather, I pray for us to have a brave one, to be fearless and honest and willing. 

Wishing you a holy Lent,

Teresa