Challenge: Moving that bushel

Behold my netbook keyboard.
After 4 years of heavy use, it shows the traffic patterns of commonly used letters and finger rest stops. EOASDLCNM are more or less gone, with a few more keys close behind. (The down arrow was lost in a dog-related incident.)

It's all good, though--I touch type! And a handy side benefit? It keeps my kids from 'borrowing' my primary computer each time I walk out of the room.

This lack of clarity is cute enough for an anecdote, but what about when it's a congregation with poor signage or an outdated website? Or systems making it difficult for people to figure out what is going on and how to make change?

Is this simply neglect, limited capacity, or for some reason or another putting the light of not just that congregation but our faith under a bushel [1]?

These questions are scalable--to the responsibility of individuals, of congregations, and of the denomination. Last month RevCyn wrote about ways the UUA as an organizaiton could simplify some of the website/publication woes with a standard template for all to use and adapt.

But for my purposes, let's start with the easy stuff.
*Can a first-time guest find your sanctuary? The restrooms?
*Does your website show what's going on in the coming month?
*If someone wants to join your congregation, is there a clear way to know those steps?
*If you found something wrong in your congregational printed or digital materials, whom would you contact to handle it?

My challenge to all of us: answer these questions honestly. Consider what needs fixing, and do something.

I could go on. But I need to go put these items on my own to-do list.

1: Matthew 5:15

Fixing our disconnects

Much earlier today, I posted to Facebook:

The disconnect between the general and the specific:
I am certain there is an abundance of good in the world.
But this morning I worry if there is enough coffee.

Yes, I was mostly making a goofy post about needing more caffeination, but there's some actual thought underneath (I think.)

It's easy enough to state a belief or even an idea based in fact, but the specifics of actually getting there? Oy, that is far more difficult.


From the personal-
A healthy diet is important... but Cheetos are delicious.

To the relational-
Peace is our goal... but I'm going to fight my sister for video game time.

This, my friends, is how life provides us with plentiful opportunities to practice our beliefs, whatever they may be. Embodying what you hold to be true takes a fair amount of spiritual muscle, whether it is striving forward to accomplish something, or to hold back your baser instincts.

So, what is your disconnect?

The roller coaster of the church year

You know the big hill on most roller coasters? The one that goes chunk-chunk-chunk-chunk as it climbs?  This is the March and early April phase of a church calendar, as we moved toward 'year end.'

The church year is an intriguing beast. Still tied to the academic calendar, which is in turn tied to agricultural calendars very few of us follow anymore. We start soon after Labor Day, go pretty steadily through September and October and most of November. There's the wiggles of the holidays between Thanksgiving and New Years, then some chance of new energy. January and February work their way and March (in Texas) has Spring Break. By the time April rolls around, it seems as if most are chugging toward the end of the church year, toward summer breaks or changes.

It's not that people's lives are always calm over the summer, that they will have no life-changing events or need for celebrations and connections.  It's not as if everyone in our congregations takes a vacation in the summer months, or that they are out enjoying a too-brief supper.

The summer reductions in church programming, to me, speak of a reluctance to take our faith seriously. When damnation was cast aside,  a weekly check-in with God and/or church community seemed less critical. A shrug and a "who would notice" inkling can lead to Sundays in nature, in bed, in errands.  Not a one of those is a poor use of time, but neither are they full lesson plans for a free and responsible search for truth and meaning--where the responsibility involves sharing one's ideas and requesting feedback.

What might be a sustainable option for year-round ministries, keeping energy up AND allowing for staff and clergy breaks as needed?  Who might step up to continue momentum? How might a congregation use collaborative leadership to be a part of the solution? What piece would you love to hold or to juggle?

Movie Dirt

It is Friday night, so movie time.

As I write this post, King Arthur (2004 movie) is on TV, and I am struck by the relative amounts of dirt on the various characters. Some of these guys are pretty darned filthy, while others appear to have modern-day standards of cleanliness and upkeep. This is especially obvious in a movie where half the people are wearing facial tattoos and paint.

This is true in so many movies. Of course, the main characters are often the cleanest. When they are royalty, I guess I can understand- they would have privilege (and staff!) beyond those around them. But secondary characters and fallen villains with facial hair requiring Tony Stark precision? Unlikely.

In general, the enemy seems to be dirtier than "the good guys"--accentuating the fact that they are somehow lesser? Playing on the conceit of "heathen" uncivilized versus godly people.  This becomes part of the character design, held up by a fleet of hair and makeup artists, wardrobe folks,and the continuity folks who make sure the dirt (or lack thereof) stays in the same places.

On a lighter note, I really want Lancelot's woven leather coat.

Preparations and Thomas Potter

Painting. It seems so very straightforward.  "Oh, I am going to pick out some paint and take care of the walls in that room." But there are so very many steps that come before painting a single stroke. Clearing stuff out of the room, washing the walls, doing any patching that needs doing (then sanding and finagling, then texturizing a bit), covering the walls, taping the trim and counters and whatnot, priming... the size of the room has very little to do with the time it takes to finish the process.

Prep is not at all glamorous. There is no sudden transformation, no sense of accomplishment, and the chaos seems to increase exponentially before there is any real progress. Sometimes I wonder WHAT I was possibly thinking, to come up with such an idea...

But without this prep, the paint wouldn't stick, or it might even accentuate every imperfection in the wall.  And if I forget to tape, I will definitely make a giant mess.

Sometimes life itself is all about laying good groundwork.


My spiritual story here is that of Thomas Potter, the 18th century farmer who came to believe in Universalism. He allowed people to worship on his land, and in a true Field of Dreams moment, decided to build a church with the hopes of a Universalist minister coming to serve.  Ten years passed and he had found no such minister.  But he was steadfast, even when his neighbors and family doubted.

The story goes that a ship got moored on a sandbar near Thomas, and he approached the ship with interest. And there was John Murray, a known English Universalist preacher, who had left his native land as his life and finances and spirit crumbled. John was certain he would never preach again, but Thomas made a deal--if the winds allow your ship to sail off, godspeed. But if you remain stuck here Sunday, please, come preach! And thus, on September 30, 1770, Murray preached in Potter's church.

You can learn much more about this story at the Murray Grove website.

And now I need to get back to taping...

Veggie balance

Disclaimer: While this is about my veggie co-op, this is not a health food post.

For the last ten years I have been volunteering at a local organic co-op, most every Wednesday at Way Too Early in the morning. When I started I mostly counted the produce as it came in, but eventually I moved up the volunteer ladder.

Basically my job is to manage variables.  First, I work with whatever comes in the door to create satisfactory shares for everyone who has preordered. Then whatever is left over goes to open market, where it is available to anyone who might drop in. We sell more when we have a welcoming variety of items out there, beyond a full box of turnips and two cases of seemingly expensive blueberries. (Co-op cannot offer the loss leaders of $1.40 pints that a local grocery might!)

From week to week things shift. Will the Valencia oranges be fifty-six to a box, or seventy-two?  Do the red onions weigh out at an even pound, or are they all over the place, from half a pound to two pounds? Will our local grower send the bunched broccoli we asked for, our bagged broccoli, which is smaller but more expensive? Did a late freeze knock out the spinach? Are we short twenty-two grapefruits? So many things are beyond our control, and do not always fit neatly into those spreadsheet cells. With this task come opportunities for mental flexibility.

In some ways this is very much like my 'day job' at church--doing very practical work to balance needs so all may be nourished.  We have a core group we know to plan for, and some idea of possible resources, interest, and support. And members let us know if we miss the mark. The same lettuce-tomato-apple-cucumber share, while we all know what to do with it, would get boring week after week, and not reflect the rhythm of seasons. People like and need a little stretching, but if we include too many dandelion greens or persimmons, we definitely hear about it.

Most important is the understanding that what we are doing is much more than vegetables.  It is education--recipes for unfamiliar produce, lifting up sustainable practices. It is about clarifying values and finding meaning communally, checking in with one another from time to time.
It is about creating community, both onsite Wednesdays, at other events around town, and through social media and door-to-door promotions. Like any human endeavor, we have plentiful opportunities to try new things, to fail spectacularly, to apologize and to be gracious, and to find joy and wonder in the smallest caterpillar.

What are the right clothes for the job?

When I have evening meetings, I usually stay at work getting something extra done in that time, rather than driving home and back. But my parents are in town, so today I left from my afternoon meeting and did not go back to the office until 6:30.

I went to see what Dad was working on and soon enough I was helping out- holding boards and smoothing caulk... in my nice office clothes.

Sure, I could have gotten changed into grub clothes, but I knew I was going back to the office in a couple of hours--mud-streaked jeans are not appropriate for a board meeting.

So I stubbornly continued on, eventually taking the caulk gun, and doing my best to avoid messes. The closest call came in washing my hands--Mom had thrown some bleach in the soapy water. But no, I did not shake my hands or wipe them on my (chocolate brown) pants.

Stubborn to be certain.  I suppose I could claim a certain amount of efficiency--no changes needed and somehow I got the work done!

But it was awkward and full of anxiety. Not only am I something of a klutz, but my dad can get a little carried away in his chaos. So I moved slowly and deliberately, over thought some things, and kept my distance from brute force.

Our hymnal features an excerpt from Marge Piercy's To Be Of Use--the part that comes to mind is "I want to be with people who submerge in the task." Submerging--sometimes that seems a little rash and messy.  We would rather tiptoe carefully around the edges of the task.  We might or might not ever get finished, but at least we'll clean up easily...

Or maybe not. Perhaps tomorrow, between my 3:30 staff meeting and 8 PM webinar, I'll be painting the master bath. Surely my colleagues will understand the streaks of primer on my cheek, the bandana tight on my head.

What wonderful things might happen, if only we're willing to get messy?