For those of you who lifted up high holy hands in prayer that the snow would wait until AFTER the installation, thank you muchly. We had no problems getting to either church and both services went well. The hymns were familiar, so I was being very un-Lutheran and singing audibly. (I was sitting next to one of my confirmands at one service and she was worshipping much the same way. God bless former churches where people love to sing!) There was a potluck after the second church service and some people from the first church came over to eat with us. I chose to sit with the president of the call committee, who decided to ask me why I wasn’t sitting with Jon and the assistant to the bishop. I explained that I had decided that we were going to spread out and besides, I could be anti-social if I wasn’t sitting with Jon. I think I shocked him — that warm, bubbly, little Jen likes to be anti-social. I’m guessing that he doesn’t see me as an introvert?

Do Jon and I a favor and pray really hard that the roads will be reasonably clear tomorrow. We’re under a winter storm warning and we’re expecting 4-8 inches of snow. Jon’s installation at both churches is tomorrow and it’s a big to-do. I’d really *like* to have people there (and be able to get there safely.

My Confirmation kids were whiny today. They had just finished finals and had all the memory work and reading to do for Confirmation (which I might have lightened if they had TOLD me), which apparently made it too much. They DID have two fairly lengthy verses; but that was because they hadn’t done their memory verse the previous week.

I also informed them that they had to do faith essays and that we would pick the best three to read in front of the congregation. This got whines of “but I hate reading my own writing” from people. We might choose other people to read them in front of the congregation and I’ll probably make a display board of all the essays. I wish the kids realized how much it means to the parents to have their child’s essays chosen and read and even to see the other kids read essays on their faith to the congregation. Maybe I should give them 1 Peter 3:15 as a memory verse next week?

I gave the kids the study guides for their tests today and we talked about some of the seasons of the Church year. My 2nd year students knew more than they thought they did and it was interesting discussion. We’re going to try and move their class to Sunday and lengthen it by 30 minutes so that we can get through everything. I might also give them some handouts on prayer and how to pray.

I also wish my lesson had gone better tonight. I had musical examples of psalms and stuff but the kids were really distracted. I guess you win some and you lose some…

I just incurred the wrath of my 2nd year Confirmation class by telling them that they had to pass a Confirmation test to be confirmed. They get a re-take if they don’t pass it the first time and I promised that it wasn’t going to be wicked hard. I want to basically know that they learned something in Confirmation and have the information to make the choice about whether or not they want to be confirmed.

I told them what a third of the points are going to be: the Lord’s Prayer, the 10 Commandments, the Apostle’s Creed, and “who is Jesus/why is He important?” (If they can’t answer those questions, I cannot confirm them with a clear conscience. Those are, like, the BARE ESSENTIALS of Lutheranism.) The rest will be short ID’s on people (Noah, Mary, Abraham, Adam, Eve, Paul…), terms (baptism, confirmation, Holy Spirit, Trinity…), and Holy Days (Easter, Pentecost, Good Friday…). There will also be questions like “how are we saved” (by grace through faith) and stuff on things they should know as Christians.

Anything else I should ask? 🙂

Of the Fatherï??s love begotten, ere the worlds began to be,
He is Alpha and Omega, He the source, the ending He,
Of the things that are, that have been,
And that future years shall see, evermore and evermore!

At His Word the worlds were fram’d; He commanded; it was done:
Heaven and earth and depths of ocean in their threefold order one;
All that grows beneath the shining
Of the moon and burning sun, evermore and evermore!

O that birth forever blessed, when the virgin, full of grace,
By the Holy Ghost conceiving, bare the Savior of our race;
And the Babe, the world’s Redeemer,
First revealed His sacred face, evermore and evermore!

This is He Whom seers in old time chanted of with one accord;
Whom the voices of the prophets promised in their faithful word;
Now He shines, the long expected,
Let creation praise its Lord, evermore and evermore!

O ye heights of heaven adore Him; angel hosts, His praises sing;
Powers, dominions, bow before Him, and extol our God and King!
Let no tongue on earth be silent,
Every voice in concert sing, evermore and evermore!

The first Noel the angel did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay;
In fields where they lay tending their sheep,
On a cold winterï??s night that was so deep.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel,
Born is the King of Israel.

They lookï??d up and saw a star
Shining in the east, beyond them far;
And to the earth it gave great light,
And so it continued both day and night.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel,
Born is the King of Israel.

And by the light of that same star
Three Wise Men came from country far;
To seek for a King was their intent,
And to follow the star wherever it went.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel,
Born is the King of Israel.

This star drew nigh to the northwest,
Over Bethlehem it took its rest;
And there it did both stop and stay,
Right over the place where Jesus lay.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel,
Born is the King of Israel.

Then entered in those Wise Men three,
Full reverently upon the knee,
And offered there, in His presence,
Their gold and myrrh and frankincense.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel,
Born is the King of Israel.

Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord;
That hath made heaven and earth of naught,
And with His blood mankind hath bought.
Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel,
Born is the King of Israel.

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Reading this has reminded me of why I loved my church in high school. I know that there were definitely differences of opinion on a lot of issues, but everyone could still worship together. I love being able to go to my grandparents’ church and understand what was going on even though I maybe attended there once or twice a year when I’d go visit them. Heck, things were a piece of cake for me when I was in Canada because I could walk into an Anglican church and feel at home. I agree with Chris that it is wonderful to know that on 6 of 7 continents, people are saying the same words as me and have for hundreds of years.

I also agree that the church needs the conservatives to stay in and keep the liberals on their toes. The “via media” doesn’t work if things are only one-sided. This means that those who are opposed to Bishop Robinson might want to stay put and make sure that their viewpoint is known. (Having said that, I do not condemn those who leave over this because they disagree with the actions of the General Assembly in Minneapolis.)

I love that being Episcopalian (or Lutheran for that matter) means that “Christ died to take away my sins, not my mind.” I’m leery of any religious tradition that asks members to divorce their intellect from their faith and to blindly conform. I love that the Church of England produced such thinkers as C. S. Lewis and Charles Williams. As for John Shelby Spong, well… every church has its mistakes.

I also totally agree with Chris’ take on why hymns are so cool:

I have yet to be moved by any praise song as much as ??Let all mortal flesh keep silence??, my favorite hymn, moves me. That hymn always weirds me out, in the good way. Singing about the ??six winged seraphs?? reminds me of the utter strangeness and power of God. That??s praise. ??Praise?? songs, on the other hand, in addition to being bland folk or folk rock (I did not go to church to hear rehashed Eagles), always have that ??sunny, buddy Christian?? feel that I so despise.

While I can deal with some of the praise and worship music out there (I kind of have to as a pastor-to-be because there are some people who can only be reached through it), most of the songs don’t do for me what “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence”, “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” (the Lutheran fight song), or “Thy Strong Word” do. The folk services really struck me as Peter, Paul and Mary breeding with the BCP, though I did find the one done for Ann’s funeral to be comforting. (Ann was the wife of our former rector who died of bone cancer last December.)

I also enjoyed the formality of the ‘Piscopalians (and enjoy the formality of Jon’s current parish) because I think that one should dress up for Sunday worship. I don’t mind tossing on a dress for church (though I have to remind myself that the choir robe increases the temperature by 50 degrees so I need to be judicious about what’s under my robe) and I’m starting to be appalled at the people who come to worship dressed as they would to do yardwork. (And yes, I’m saying this as someone who wore jeans to church throughout high school and part of college.)

Don’t misunderstand me — I’m not forsaking Lutheranism (mostly because no other church claims its teachings “[to be] most certainly true”). I’m just a little nostalgic for my past. And for those who ask why I don’t just go back, we’re moving to a state where Lutherans are denser than anywhere else. The nearest ECUSA parish is about 50+ miles away.

They say that confession is good for the soul and God willing, confessing the stuff that is on my heart right now might actually help this soul to get to sleep at a decent hour (i.e. not 3 a.m. like it is now).

The truth about all that is going on: While I *am* excited to go up to Minnesota and interview, the thought of it is also incredibly terrifying. Yes, I do want to see these parishes. Yes, I do want to move on with my life. Yes, I should be trusting the synod (and God) to get all this stuff worked out. But… it also means that we really are going to move; we really are going to leave Jon’s internship site; and I am going to be taken out of my comfort zone once again and transplanted into a completely new place. (Newark is an hour from Columbus and I could still go back and visit the sem.) In other words, this whole situation is very much a P situation — not what this staunch J can deal with.

But Jen… if you were actually trusting in God, you wouldn’t be scared. You’d be full of joyful anticipation. You’d — *takes obnoxious nagging voice in my head and seals it in a box with duct tape to be mailed to Abu Dhabi tomorrow morning* Thing is… I *AM* trusting in God. I don’t really have any other choice right now. Just because I’m trusting in God does not mean that my stomach isn’t clenched and rejecting food, that I’m not breaking down sobbing, that I’m not having panic attacks, (that all of this didn’t happen during the 10:45 service on Sunday morning… nooooooooo… never…), or that I’m not being a complete and utter control freak. (I think two more days of living in the same space as me should qualify Jon for sainthood.) Jon decided (for some strange reason) to start packing today, which means that the cats are irritated because they know the suitcase only comes out when Mommy or Daddy (or both) are going to disappear and possibly leave them alone to fend for themselves (with catsitters who come twice daily to give them food/water/clean litter and who *WOULD* give them much love if they would drag themselves out from under the bed and be good, social clergy cats); and so they have taken up shop under the bed, giving us withering looks as to say that we are icky, nasty, selfish humans. (You know there’s a problem when your uber-spoiled cats start calling you selfish…) So… we’ve got a household with a neurotic and weepy Jen, two very lemurish and pissed-off cats, and Jon who is down in the dumps because he doesn’t want to leave St.Paul’s. Oh we are such a bunch!

In addition to the incredible fear and trembling (with which I am attempting to work out my faith), I’m also grieving the fact that I have to leave St. Paul’s. Yes… this is the same place that I was kicking and screaming to leave as recently as 6 months ago. But Jen… isn’t it hypocritical for you to announce the change? I mean– *staple guns the nagging voice to the bottom of the box, adds some more duct tape, seals the box with a 5-inch layer of duct tape, and calls Airborne to pick it up PDQ* They’ve become a family to me. I finally got this rammed through my thick skull 4 months ago when I was actually allowed to *stay with the family* during a hospital visit. (Well… that and the roses given to us on our 1st wedding anniversary, the cards telling me of the major prayers lifted up for my candidacy committee to ummmm… reconsider their judgement of my fitness for ministry [took me about three shots to say that politely[, the people hugging me at the gospel concert on Sunday night, my junior high girl who protested muchly when she found out that we were being sent to Minnesota…) I’m being allowed to sing the Requiem with the choir for All Saints’ Day (which is comparable to Christmas at most other parishes — St. Paul’s takes *everything* worship-related up about 3 notches) as a healing thing for the church after the 10 funerals of this summer — this was one of my hopes. I have no idea where I’ll be for Christmas (which is MAJORLY distressing to me as this will likely be my first Christmas away from home and Christmas is BIG togetherness time for my family) and I’m torn about whether or not I’m hoping to be at St. Paul’s. On the one hand, we could probably go home. On the other hand, it would mean that we aren’t in the parish yet and I kind of want to get Jon ordained and in the parish PDQ if only for the completely selfish reason of finances.

Oh yeah… there’s also the fact that yesterday (Monday) was the only real day of rest I’ve had in about a month. I’m just a girl who cain’t say no and this is getting me in some turible fixes. CROPWalk was a good thing for me to do because it was 5 miles of walking — which killed much of my stress from Sunday morning. However… my eyes are ringed and puffy, which means I look like a red-headed raccoon. If only I could actually sleep normally…

Maybe I should stop counting sheep and talk to the Shepherd. It might be good for the nerves and the soul of this little lamb to discuss its state with the One who leads me beside peaceful waters…