Interlochen memories

I recently wrote a paper on an obscure phrase in the Smalcald Articles (Martin Luther's "theological last will and testament"): "the mutual conversation and consolation of the brothers and sisters" as a means by which the gospel is communicated. In the paper, I reflected on the paradox of contemporary technologies that bring people together -- and simultaneously let them remain apart.

When I wrote the paper, I was thinking, in particular, of Facebook, where there is now a rightfully "closed" group for people who attended the Interlochen Arts Academy c. 1969-1972, plus or minus. It is a remarkable group; remarkable when we were young & remarkable at the "certain ages" we all are now. Some in the group I first met as a summer camper, when I was 9 or 10 years old; others were met in high school. Some are my brother's friends. Yet Interlochen is a bond we all share; stories & confessions abound there; celebrations of life -- and also mourning of peers and former teachers. And of course the requisite: "what are you doing now?" and "does anyone know whatever happened to ________?"

The Facebook group is filled with nostalgia; with remembrances of times past... The "discussion board" brings us together in a particular state of mind: the children, the artists, the students, the performers we once were, together in the "land of the stately pines..." until news of a death is reported... "long illness" ... "AIDS, early in the epidemic" ... "unknown causes" ... And the fragility of life becomes present as the brief moments in real time when our lives intersected, fade into the reality of lives as they are now, as we are now.

Interlochen is in my blood. It was there that creativity and spirituality found each other in my life. There, that the dancer, sitting on the steps heading down to the Minnesota building, heard again the vocational call to ministry first sensed eight years earlier. "Who me?? Girls can't be pastors." Little did I know as I re-sensed that call, the Lutheran Church in America had just ordained Beth Platz. Much less could I know, eight years later that same church would ordain me.

Facebook has awakened roots and nearly lifelong friendships I thought were gone forever. But are they real or virtual? Or virtually real? Perhaps only a face-to-face reunion can answer those questions. Until then, I cherish the memories of "the way we were" and enjoy the maturity of who we all are now. It might not be exactly what Luther was talking about--but buried within those discussion boards, to me, there is grace.

"Sound the call...."

"God of the lakes..."

"Dedicated to the promotion of world friendship through the universal language of the arts."

EMDR Solutions II & Marginality

Robin, the editor, says the book is on its way to final editing and should be available early in 2009. It will be a tome. My chapter is last, chapter 26: Using EMDR with religious and spiritually attuned clients. It is my initial written effort to help secular therapists find their way in working with such clients, presented from the dual perspective of being both a clergyperson and a clinician. I say "dual perspective" but marginal is probably the better description.

The ELCA doesn't quite know what to do with the handful of pastors like me, whose ministries are by nature integrative and incarnational, and may or may not take place in a congregational setting. Nor do many secular psychotherapy colleagues. ("You're a what?") Are we "neither fish nor fowl"? Or both "fish" and "fowl" (hopefully not foul). However defined, we live and work in the intersection of two professions. We live and work, sometimes, on a single point of intersection; other times, in a nearly global sphere thereof. We work with those who share our faith and those who don't, and those who claim no faith life at all. And we work with those whose faith has been wounded by both religion and the living of life.

Yet when all is said and done, when churchly institutions and state departments of the professions have each made their case, for me, it is Christ who grounds and models this lifework (vocation) and ministry. Christ--fully God and fully human--engaged in salvific healing for all. ("Salvation" and "Healing" having the same Greek root.) Christ--who comes to live within my very human life, not some ethereal "spook" but in my very flesh and blood, my human-beingness. Christ--whose ministry with the poor and outcast placed him in the dual perspective of voluntary marginality out of which grace flowed.

Likewise, in the dual perspective and voluntary marginality of pastoral psychotherapy, grace-moments "happen" when a particular type of listening hears clients' religio-spiritual joys, sorrows, and themes in the cares and concerns of their lives. It is a listening-into-grace that becomes healing movement in a sacred space.

Easter

It was a recent-history attendance record at my church today~~101 worshippers~~of whom almost 10% have movement difficulties and need to use canes, a challenge for them and for the architecture of the church.

Older church buildings may be exempt from accessibility builing-code legislation, but not from theological assessment. "Stairs everywhere" in churches are, frankly, exclusive when there is no other means of access to the space. Church buildings need to be able to be accessed by all--not only the sanctuary of the worship space, but the educational and social spaces as well. How sad that accessibilty is not a priority in so many congregations. Yes, it will be expensive. No it is often not convenient and may change both the exterior & interior landscape. But when I watch the members of my church, valiantly willing themselves to ascend the many stairs into the sancturay... and know that their days are numbered to be able to do so...I know that accessibility is ultimately, about grace. Costly grace, but grace nonetheless. Accessibility to sacred space is a mirror of God's love. It is a concrete expression of a congregation's welcome and an extension of the graciousness of Christ.