Not Letting Myself Be Defined By My Speech Or My Beard

Earlier today I went to a barbershop downtown and had my beard greatly trimmed and received a nice hair cut as well. Part of the reason I had to do this is that I am doing a Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) at a nearby hospital. This basically means I will be the hospital chaplain's intern for the summer. When I interviewed back in the fall, the chaplain informed me that for health reasons that I would have to cut most of my beard off.

Ever since I was young, I have wanted a beard. I do not know exactly why, but I do remember wanting one as early as middle school. Then when I was 18 I grew my first beard and for a good portion of the last ten years I have had a beard in some form. At times, I have kept it trimmed in a way but for almost the last two years I have just let it grow with very minor trims. I mainly did out of curiosity to see how long it grew. But I did it unconsciously for another reason too.

In therapy, as I have written aboutbefore on my blog, I have been dealing with my self image. For most of my life, I have felt that my speech impediment has been my most defining characteristic. I thought the way I speak is how people remember me the most and it was usually the only quality most people would notice. But some friends told me that this was not case. Once I wrote an email to someone who had met a couple years before at a conference. She had not remember me, so I said that I had red hair and a speech impediment. She emailed back to let me know that she did remember me but she remember me for other qualities than my speech impediment.

I think this was the first time I realized that I should not let myself be defined by my speech impediment. But it is hard not to let it be, especially after a couple decades of telling myself that I am defined by my speech. To be honest, I have to deal with people not being able to understand me everyday and I have to deal with some of those people automatically assuming that I am mentally handicapped in a way most days.

Yet, with a long red beard, I would get noticed before I even opened my mouth. People everywhere complimented me on the beard. I stood out in another way than just having a speech impediment and a

ll the baggage that comes with that. With a long beard I felt defined in another way. It was like my security blanket. I thought maybe people will remember me as the guy with the really rad red beard, instead of the guy with the speech impediment. But, also I did get a lot of snickers and laughs coming at me because I had a ridiculously long red beard. Sometimes, like my speech impediment, I felt embarrassed by having this long beard.

As I thought about this dilemma in therapy, I realized that neither my long red beard or having a speech impediment completely define who I am. I have a lot of other characteristics, much more important aspects of myself. If I let myself be define by either of these two qualities, I am holding back my gifts that I can offer the wider world. Even though I will always be defined negatively by an handful of people (it can be a cruel world out there), I have to remember that I am a child of God and I need to live into that role more fully. In Matthew, Jesus commands in the Sermon on the Mount that, instead of hiding it under a bushel, everyone should let their light shine (Matt 5:15-16).

Yes, I do need to let my light shine brightly and not hold my gifts from the world.  

Reflections from My Lenten Journey with Anger

The Lenten season has ended, but my journey with anger is just getting deeper. Over the Lenten season, I thought about: How deep my self-hate actually is; why I root for underdogs; and How I may unknowingly discriminate against others.

During the Lenten season, I began to really grapple with how deep my self-hate goes. I wrote about this in my first blog post, but at that time I did not know just how deep it is and how I have held a grudge against myself. Upon this realization, I thought that if I just started to love myself the self-hate would magically disappear...

Sadly, it does not work that way. By focusing on my self hate more during the Lenten season through therapy, writing, and mediation, I was able to explore how I have internalized people's opinions of myself since a young age. I have sought outside reinforcement of my worth because I do not have a high opinion of myself. I thought I would gain this through other means, but I never have. As I have discovered through the Lenten season, no outside reinforcement has been enough to build a sense of self-worth, it ultimately has to come from me and me alone.

For most of my life, I have been active in helping others and advocating for social justice. I always thought it had to do solely because of my Quaker upbringing. But during Lent, I reflected more on this. In late February the poet Shane Koyczan released a video of the slam poem "To This Day" and it made its rounds across the internet. Then in early March his TED talk was released as well. I have listened to the poem several times and his TED talk once. His words connected deeply to my experiences growing up feeling out of place and why I root for the underdog. If I believe that the underdogs would never win, I would never have a chance. I always thought if they could win, I could win. I am still working through this realization and how it has impacted my life and my outlook on life.

Thinking about this "underdog" mentality also reminded me of the movie, Simon Birch, which I saw years ago. At the end of the movie when the title character dies, everyone else reflects on what lessons they had received from him and his tragic circumstances. This is how people, usually children, with disabilities are portrayed in popular culture as being here solely so that other people can learn valuable lessons. Afterwards they are promptly discarded or ignored. They are not to be recognized as regular human beings with the same desires and feelings, instead they have a mythical presence. This might be because people with disabilities are largely ignored or avoided in the real world.

Society largely does not know what to do with adults living with disabilities. As kids, at least society will raise money and make movies about us. As adults, we are often left alone and the discrimination just gets worse. Another famous example is Helen Keller. Most people learn about her childhood and about her teacher, Anne Sullivan. But did you know that as an adult she graduated from college and became a socialist activist, fighting for human rights? We all like the story of Helen overcoming her disabilities to communicate, but we never hear the rest of the story of how she used her communication skills to advocate for others.

Shane’s poem also raised up the subtle ways my teachers and friends compounded my self-hate and discriminated against me with their use of words and their actions. Realizing how language and actions impacted me has made me wonder how I might discriminate against others with my words and acts. Now I am looking at what I say and how I act towards others. I have explored how I treat people and the words I use. In a recent sermon, I explored the concepts of Light and Darkness. This is just the beginning of that process in exploring ways I might have discriminated against other.

I did not write a lot during the forty days but I hope to continue to write and to develop something for children growing up with disabilities and their families and friends. I continue to welcome anyone who wants to dialogue on any of these topics. This journey will continue as my journey with God and Christ continues after the end of Lent.   

Light and Darkness Become One

I preached this sermon this morning in my preaching class based on some thoughts that I have been mulling over in the last week about the use of the word, "Light" among Quakers.

This sermon is based on Jonah 1:17-2:10 (NRSV)

In the Quaker tradition, we use the metaphor of the Light a lot. Partly because early Quakers use this imagery often in their writing and also partly some Quakers are uncomfortable with using the word "God". Most of them tend to be spiritual refugees from other denominations, having grown up being told that God did not love them for one reason or another. Some tried to hide their true selves from God and others, feeling like if others knew the insides of their souls, they would be disowned forever by God and the church. Now to them Light seems safe to say because it is a new metaphor to them, something different, something without baggage.

But I have been reflecting on what I have been using for the opposite of Light for most of my life, which is usually darkness, to describe a lack of God, evil. I started rethinking using darkness to describe the opposite of Light last semester when I read a quote from Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. In an address in 1967 Dr. King said, "In Roget's Thesaurus there are some 120 synonyms for blackness and at least sixty of them are offensive, such words as blot, soot, grim, devil, and foul. And there are some 134 synonyms for whiteness and all are favorable, expressed in such words as purity, cleanliness, chastity, and innocence." Ever since then, I have been wondering: Do I promote this negative duality through the way I talk about my spirituality? Light/White = good and Darkness/Black=bad.

To seek out guidance on how I should proceed with this question, I went to the wisest place I know of for answers. Facebook!

Several friends commented. A friend bought up the ideas of an UU theologian Jacqui James who writes that there are some good points about darkness, like it brings relief from the scorching heat. Also in darkness seeds begin to sprout and thus new life begins. Another friend brought up the story of Jonah being in the whale. Jonah had to go through the darkness within a fish to accept his call. As we heard from the passage, in the darkness, Jonah says a praise of thanksgiving to God, before the fish throws him up onto the land.

Before this praise of Thanksgiving, Jonah has tried his best to avoid accepting the call from God to go to Ninevah. As we hear in the praise, he had to be close to death before he realized the entire positives in his life and how much he believes in God. But we know from the passage that he was not actually near death because God sent the fish to shallow him before he drowned to the depths of the ocean. God protects him, even though he acts disobediently when God calls him. Jonah is not the only prophet he tries to hide from God. Oh no!

I bet some of us have stories of being disobedient towards God's calling to come to be here today listening to this story. Heck, you probably wanted to be disobedient and did not want to get out of bed this morning. I know I did.

For me the journey of coming to seminary took me to rural Missouri. I had heard the calling before I moved to rural Missouri from Washington DC, but I ignored the call. I was always too busy or too poor to go to seminary, or I thought. I kept saying no to seminary, thinking another opportunity, in the form of a job or anything else, was around the corner. But it took me asking God late at night alone what the next plans God had for me. It took doors closing before I said yes to God's calling. I thought I was spiraling downwards but now I know that God was leading me here by taking me to those dark cold nights in Missouri. Now I am thankful for those cold dark nights wondering where I would go next.

As future pastors and leaders of the church, we will be charged with helping people of all ages as they go through terrible parts of their lives. Some things we will see will be horrible. But sometimes we will see our parishioners struggle and they will actually be rebirths into Christ and deeper faithfulness. There will be times where we will go through difficult times in our own lives too. But the good news, just like Jonah in the fish, we are not alone. God will always be watching over us and this process.

Also I think this is where the church that we are inheriting is right now. Many people think the church is dying. All the signs are there. Attendance is down across the board in the mainline denominations. Churches are often in the red, only surviving off of endowments from past generations. There are more pastors looking for positions than open positions. Most of us are going to graduate without an assurance of a job.

But in the midst of this struggle, there is a hope, a seed, a thanksgiving to be seen. We are seeing the church changing. LGBTQ people are being accepted in as the children of God as they have always been. The church is becoming more than just a building that is open on Sunday to only some. There are so many examples of pastors and Christians taking new risks, trusting on God, doing and being in the Church in radical new ways because we cannot do any worse than we are right now. A couple weeks ago we listened to Dean Kay preach about his former church in Minnesota which changed themselves into a new kind of church with an active laity outreach to the community. We live in a time of great hope of pastor being bold. The church is being reborn and we are involved with this process.

Finally, this Sunday we will celebrate women finding an empty tomb and a command for them to tell the world about their find. In this dark cave, a place of death and sadness, God gave a people a message of hope that has lasted over 2,000 years, the resurrection of Christ and a proclamation of freedom to the captives. Light and darkness became whole together in that tomb with Christ's Resurrection. This act confirms God's devotion to all, despite what some people may try to say. By putting Jonah in a fish and by making a sealed cave empty, God shows that God does love all!

The Unpredictability of March

A couple weeks ago, I attended the meeting for worship at Princeton Friends School, which the school calls "Settling In". Each week they meet for 30 minutes and a student offers a query. Since it was the first day of March, the assigned student asked "What are you looking forward to in March?"

Students talked about upcoming birthdays, looking forward to playing outside more, and summer coming closer. They were ready to shed their winter clothes and activities for sunny days spent outside. Eighth graders expected to hear back from high schools soon and they were nervous and eager to find out where they were accepted. These students were eager to take the next step in their education and life.

One of the teachers stood up and talked about how March could bring different weather. In March it is still normal for there to be a late snowstorm he said, but we also could expect sunny days to happen where short sleeves can be worn and bike riding could be done. The theme of his message was that March brought unpredictability, at a time when we wanted something concrete, ie the end of Winter and the start of Spring or the end of one stage of life and the becoming of another. We know that Spring is coming and we will hear about where we go on the next stage of our life, but March always brings surprises and bumps along the way.

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In my experience this rang true. I used to go to New Orleans in March from Washington DC with a group of high school students for an alternative spring break trip. I remember often times bundling up to go to the airport in DC and then shedding all the layers once we landed in New Orleans. New Orleans was usually sunny with highs in the 70s and 80s that week in March. It gave us our first glimpse of Spring that helped us make it through the last few weeks of a DC winter/early Spring when we returned home. We were given a chance to see what was awaiting us once we waited out the dreadful last weeks of the winter season.

But that was not always true. Once I remember arriving to the airport in DC when it was in the 70s there. Instead of the group all wearing shorts and T-shirts in preparation for warm weather to follow us, we were carrying jackets and coats while wearing jeans. I actually expressed concern for two students who arrived with shorts on. "Did you come prepared? Did you look at the weather forecast?" Once we landed in New Orleans, it was a different than other years. It was cloudy with a high in the upper 40s. That night the temps dipped down to about freezing. We were cold that night sleeping in the not well insulated dorm room. It did warm up by the end of the week, but it seemed strange.
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A week later after the Settling In worship, I was reminded of the teacher's words. A small snowstorm dumped a couple inches on Princeton, ruining any plans for bicycling or playing outside. It was beautiful and Princeton looked more like it was early January than early March. Jenn and I would have appreciated the snow more if we weren't in a hurry to make it to DC. We left that morning instead of the night before due to forecasts of snow. Yet, despite the weather forecasters' predictions, the snow came that morning.
The unpredictability of March caught us and we were not prepared or happy. We were worried that we were going to be late. Even though we knew it would clear up as we headed south, we were still worried in the moment. We knew that we needed to just keep driving until we were out of the storm

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I feel like being a religious seeker is living perpetually in a state of March. Hopefully most of us have made it through the long journey towards God, the Light, the Holy Spirit. We know that we are almost there to the glory and unlocking the mystery, but we are not there just yet. Instead we will encounter a little more doubt and weariness and we will encounter quick fixes that promises happiness sooner than later. Sometimes I feel like that this time is harder than the journey I experienced at my lowest point in time. I am ready for the low point to be over. I am ready for God! That thought, much like looking forward to sunny days during a late winter snowstorm, keep me going in my faith.  

Living Water is Available to All

I wrote this for my preaching class at Princeton Theological Seminary and I preached it this week. I wrote it with my classmates in mind, but it is a message for everyone to hear.

The scripture is John 4:1-26

When I was nine years old, I went to an annual family church camp that we went to every summer. One afternoon I was hanging out with some slightly older kids at the camp. The only reason I clearly remember my age is because the older kids wanted to go on a walk without me, so they told me that only people who were double digits in age could go on that particular walk. I was disappointed. I remember thinking, "But I will turn 10 in two months," as they went walking away and I was left out of a cool adventure: Going to the railroad tracks to throw rocks. I was outcasted because of something so trivial as my age, something I couldn't change about myself.

Often times I feel that is how the church feels to outcasts in our communities, even if we try to deny it. We say everyone is welcomed, but really is everyone welcomed at our churches? Would the town outcast be welcomed at your church like any other person? How would we end up acting if a woman, who reeks of cat odors, comes in for the 11 o'clock service? Would we give her the same time or attention that we give the matriarch of the family who comes to church each Sunday and sit in the fifth bench? Do we openly invite these people in and offer them grace?

In the scripture, we just heard, Jesus shows us what it means to really invite someone into the church. He offers grace and the Living water to a Samaritan woman. She is an outcast and we do not exactly know why she is an outcast. But she is at the well at a rather unusual time. We know that she has had many husbands, so that may be a reason. Maybe this town was her husbands' family town and the family despises her now that her husbands are gone. Let just say dealing with in-laws is not always easy, right? Whatever happened to her, it is clear that she is not part of the in-crowd in this small town. She has internalized this: Why would anyone want to have anything to do with me, much less a stranger hanging out by the well?

This Lenten season I have devoted myself to writing about my anger and with the source of this anger. Through therapy over the last year, I have found out that I have had a lot of anger towards God and Christianity. Growing up I was picked on by Christians and saw others being picked on by Christians. "Why did God let this happen?" I thought. Their actions didn't look like God's Love to me. I started to internalize the taunts and the mistreatment I faced. I thought that God hated me and gave me this impediment for some sort of misdeed I did in a past life. Why else would God give me a speech impairment? Why else would God do this to a kid? I remember crying at night when I was young and saying, "Why me? Why God?" just wanting a clear answer yet never receiving one. I felt like the Samaritan woman at the well. I felt outcasted.

In the last year, I have realized that, even through the painful times, God was/is always with me. I stand here today bringing the word of the Lord by God's grace alone. There were times, I thought about leaving the faith. During these dark times, I doubted myself and what I had to offer the world. There were times when I couldn't feel loved by anyone, but now I know that God and my family always loved me. They all loved me even when I was a difficult person to be around, in the midst of an angry rage. When I felt alone, the Living Water was still available to me. God did not give up on me because, like the woman at the well, I did not immediately understand what God was offering me through Jesus. God was still there when I decided to come back and accept what was being offered to me. Now I do not wonder why I am the way I am. I see my life as a gift, not a daily burden. I have stumbled along the path to God, but God has always been waiting to receive me.

Jesus shows us that the living water is available to all that seek, to all despite who they are, even if they are an outcast or feel outcasted. Before this scene in the Gospel of John, Jesus had only encountered other Jews and the disciples did not fully grasp how far Jesus' grace extended. After this scene with the woman at the well, the disciples are surprised, "What are you doing, Jesus, with that woman? We went to get some meat and now you are talking to an outcast?" Jesus was showing them and is showing us through His actions that Love, Grace, and the Living Water are available to all, not just a select group at a select time. It is available to people we meet in everyday life, whether it is in a church, at a well, on the street, or in the check-out line, even if they are the worst sinner. If they ask for forgiveness or the Living Water, it is always available to them. Even if they do not understand at first, what is being offered, it is still available to them. Jesus could have left the woman at the well after her first misunderstanding by saying, "I give up! Bye! That was your only chance." But Jesus does not give up, He remains there with the woman in her time of need and continues to offer a new path for her. God has offered us that same thing time and time again. Do we have that kind of patience for others?

That is the good news! The Living Water is always available to anyone who thirst, anyone, despite their pasts, despite our misdeeds. Although our churches can often function like a social clique, where only certain people are welcomed, we can change this. We can reform the church with our leadership saying that anyone and everyone is welcomed. We can choose to treat everyone like they are a child of God. Jesus shows us in the Gospel of John that the Living Water is open to all, who thirst, not just the privileged, or the morally righteous or even the people whose ages are in the double digits.

In our future lives we need to be asking ourselves: How can we spread this vital message in our ministries? How can we change our churches to better reflect Jesus' message at the well, that everyone is welcomed for a drink, no matter what. The church needs to make this change and we are the ones God have called to this path. If we allow ourselves to be God's implement, God will use us to continue offering the Living Water to everyone who wants it. Just as Jesus sends out the Samaritan woman to go tell all about what happened at the well, God is sending us out to tell all about God's love and forgiveness that is available to anyone.

Are we ready for this challenge?

Giving Up Anger for Lent

For Lent I am giving up my anger.

Not a lot of people know about my anger because I have tried to keep it hidden from most people, but my closest friends, family and housemates have seen my anger side. For years I thought my anger came out of my social justice work and seeing  the inequalities in the world.

After working with my therapist for more than a year, I finally realize that the anger comes out of a self-hate. This self-hate has developed over the years due to growing up with a speech impediment and feeling less than equal. I remember crying to my mom when I was young and asking, "Why did God do this to me? Why me?"

I have always known that my family and my faith community love me for who I am, but I spent most of my time out in the world where any slight differences were good enough reasons to be bullied, treated differently, or to be largely ignored. After years of this painful treatment and feeling less than whole, I internalized this hate and started to see myself as not being whole. I would wake up in the morning hating myself and thought that I had to do other things to make myself lovable. This has led me to undertake a lot of different kinds of work to prove that I am worthy of love and respect.

But in the last year, with the support of Jenn, my fiance, and my therapist, I have finally gotten to a point in my life when I recognize that I am a whole human being and that I am deserving of love and respect because of being a person and not because of what I do or do not do.

In this season of Lent, which I am doing in solidarity with my fellow Christians*, I will focus on writing more about my trauma and on loving myself more. I hope that my writing can lead to more personal healing. In the future I hope to produce materials to help youth living with disabilities and their families through the challenges of growing up in a world that is not always accepting of differences. Also, during this Lenten season, I hope to further internalize self-love to rid myself of the self-hate that has plagued my life.  

*Quakers historically do not celebrate holidays because we believe that every day is a holy day. In the last 100 years Quakers have started to celebrate holidays and more and more Quakers are observing Lent, but we do not have any special commeration for the Lenten season as a denomination.

Lets Face It Quakers are Unique, and Other Denominations are too

I consider myself an ecumenical Quaker.

Why?

I am a lifelong Friend, who goes to a Presbyterian Seminary. Last summer, I interned at an United Methodist Church where I still am involved with the youth group during the school year. This school year I am working at the Episcopal Campus Ministry on the Rutgers University campus. I attend meeting for worship twice a week: On Tuesday nights at Canal Friends Worship Group and on Sunday mornings at Princeton Friends Meeting.

On an average week, I go to two meetings for worship, celebrate the Eucharist with college students, attend Chapel at the Seminary, and spend time with the youth at the United Methodist Church.

I made the decision to go to Princeton Theological Seminary because I wanted to see what the wider Christian world has to offer Quakers and I wanted to see if all denominations were just as dysfunctional as Quakers. I can happily report that the wider Christian world has lots to offer Quakers and yes, they can be just as dysfunctional as any monthly meeting. (Too bad sometimes I thought we took dysfunctional to a new level, but now I see that we have stiff competition.)

When I came here to learn more about the wider Christian world, I realized that people are interested in learning more about Quakers and what we have to offer other denominations. I have had several meal time conversations with fellow students. Several seminarians have attended Princeton Friends Meeting. A local hospitality house has asked me to come to talk about Quakers. My supervisor this year is interested in having me talk about silence at some point during Lent to the college students at Rutgers. Even at parties away from my seminary community, people want to know more about Quakers when they find out I am one.

We have a lot to offer the world, especially in the midst of daily chaos, 24 hour news cycle, smaller and smaller technological devices. How can we still hear the voice of God in the midst of all this noise and clutter? How can we be comfortable and even live into the silence?

Also the belief that anyone can be called to minister is still radical 350 years later. I have dear friends in the Catholic Church who are struggling for Women's Ordination. Also, I just met a woman, who was talking to her non-denomination church about being ordained. It has taken a year but she is finally making progress with her church and pastor to be the first woman ordained in her church. Being ordained will help her in finding a job as a hospital chaplain. Our pulpit is always open to anyone who feels led and our structures allow ways to nurture ministers and new ministries, if we choose to follow them.

We Quakers have a lot to learn from other traditions. We can learn about what it means to support young people with paid staff and offer opportunities for them. We can learn how to better support our elders as they age. We can learn that talking about our faith in public is not always bad. We can learn better techniques at letting people know we still exist and how to greet and welcome newcomers. Some monthly meetings do this well, but, based on my opinion, a lot do not. I have been particularly impressed by the United Methodist Lay Leader program.

Quakerism is an unique faith and we have a lot to offer our siblings in other denominations. We can also learn a lot from them too.