Silence is Poison: I'm Talking Now

This has taken a lot of thought - a long time and much consideration. There are so many issues in our country and our world, I struggled to decide what to write - what focus was most needed here.

So here it is... the hard bitter truth.

It is easy for me to sit here, in the comfort of my parents' house, and make pronouncements about the state of the world. For the time being, I have food, a bed, a roof, and a loving family. I have education. I live everyday with consolidated power and resources that others fantasize about. I live in a place that is the perfect temperature most of the year. The ocean is minutes away. Flowers bloom all year. The sun shines.

It would be easy to sit here and ignore everything. It would be easy to get roped into ideas about prosperity being a heavenly mandate. It would be easy to forget about the other difficult parts of my life, to let them fade into memory, and ignore their lessons. It would be easy to forget my beautiful students from Oakland, or the farm workers down the road, or the women and children in shelters downtown. It would be easy.

I could ignore murders, rapes, molestations, homelessness, and unemployment. I could ignore victim blaming and the consolidation of power and resources by the wealthy. I could ignore rich white Christians getting hot and bothered about marriage equality, while people are dying in the streets and poor children go without food or shelter.

I could ignore these things, and eat a three course meal every night on china. I could drink expensive mixed drinks and wear designer clothing and party like everything was fun and fancy-free. I could.

And if I did, what would I be? Not Christian. That is for sure. No, I would be the embodiment of sin. I would be evil.

It is our responsibility, no matter how privileged we are, to stand with our sisters and brothers. It is our responsibility to expand access to education and health care. It is our responsibility to expand the possibility of love and friendship. It is our responsibility to serve one another and give voice to the voiceless. It is our responsibility to shed light on the places of shadow in our society.

Do not be fooled. God does not want us to stand with the law when the law protects privilege. God does not want us to stand with power when that power is one of oppression.

And this is uncomfortable. God requires us to get uncomfortable. That means, accepting the fact that yes - men are the most dangerous threat to women.  That means accepting the fact that yes - white people have systematically oppressed minorities for centuries. That means accepting the fact that yes -  our entire American society, law, culture, and businesses, are structured to funnel more power and resources to the rich.

When we accept these things as true, the whole game changes. The conversation shifts. And then the question becomes, what are you going to do about it?
There are three options:

1. Keep quiet. Do nothing, which means you are for the current situation.
2. Actively support the current situation (i.e. punish people for being poor, kill black men and women, punish women for being women, punish gay people for being gay...).
3. Or you can protest. You can write. You can fight. You can share alternative news narratives. You can educate yourself on how to be an ally to those with less of a voice, those with less privilege, and fewer rights.

I denied this call for many years. I denied it, and with it, a part of myself. I stayed silent, and it was an evil thing. I made myself sick. I was the worst kind of sinner, and for that, I beg your forgiveness.

It is for all these reasons that I wrote my story in THRIVE. It is a small story, in a large network of stories. There are so many people who have endured worse. There are so many people who were never given the chance to speak. It is for them I reveal myself. It is for them, I do the thing I was called to do - to be vulnerable. I might not be able to protest in Baltimore, or volunteer at Planned Parenthood, or All Out, or aggressively lobby for income-based penalties.

But I can do this.

#silenceispoison
#imtalkingnow
#THRIVE 

To End The Drought

Sitting down in front of the keys, a thousand thoughts go through my head. I think of ISIS, of little girls with books, of insane people conflating Christianity with "God on America's Side," of chocolate bunnies, of frightening droughts, of lying billionaires moving suited pawns across legislatures...

I think of my bank account, of my aching foot, of the fact that my computer is on its last leg, of the fact that capitalism doesn't work well for people with my kind of motivation and values...

I think of all the flaws and the fears of the world in the span of a moment. They flash before my mind's eye. It is a dizzying, horrifying, freak show, and I really don't recommend it. It's vomit inducing.

I could write about any single one of these things, and while they each could be twisted into a faith post, the reality is together, they mean so much more.

The world is scary. It is dark. It is full of awful, terrible, no good things. People use the same ideology and evidence to support their views, often with selfish aims, and with complete disregard for the consequences if they win their arguments.

In this season of Lent, I have to remind myself, and you, that it is darkest just before the dawn. All of these things are true...are present...and they must be addressed. You must decide what to do with the chocolate bunny, and how to re-landscape your lawn because grass is not going to work any more. These are bitter pills for the average Californian (and the rest of the US). You must decide how to address your faith - and work, or not, with others across the world to bring about Shalom - that yearned state of the Divine.

And for us Christians, yes, these things weigh on us, and it is hard and scary and we want to hide our faces under our pillows and stay in our cozy beds. But Jesus still died a horrible death...and returned.

As my father likes to quote, in his best imitation of a whooping preacher...

"It's Good Friday...BUT EASTER'S COMIN'!"

One more time...

"It's Good Friday...BUT EASTER IS COMIN'!"

We are not alone. In the midst of the faithful, is a large bubbling, untapped wellspring of love and light. It is time to end the drought.

Rush forth my brothers and sisters - come forward - your time in now.

I'm Not a Minister, I Just Act Like One

I'm not a minister...I'm not a minister...I'm not a minister.

Right.

As I've said many times, in many places, I am not a minister. Except, I am.

Damn it.

I'm not a minister...I'm not a minister...

In the past few months I came to a strange conclusion, and it's not exactly an easy one to admit. It might even sound strange to someone who doesn't have any ministers in their family.

I've been acting like a minister for my entire life.

You see, ministers and their families live incredibly political and highly scrutinized existences. When you grow up as a pastor's kid (or PK) you internalize (or rebel against) all the accompanying expectations of being in such an environment.

While I was anything but perfect, I did a good job of towing the family line. In fact, I did such a good job, I ended up taking on the role of minister without realizing it.

I'll give you a few examples.

I'm interested in religion, always have been (probably would have been even if my parents weren't ordained clergy). I have a couple shelves worth of books devoted to religion generally as well as religious texts. I know a fair amount about the subject. As such, people ask me questions. I end up giving impromptu lessons on the differences between protestantism and Catholicism all the time. I teach people the differences between Southern Baptists and American Baptists regularly. I can explain the similarities between the big 6 (the six most influential world faiths), and on a good day, the differences.

But that's kind of expected. That's not the worst of my informal ministerial role.

The worst is I don't have close friends. I mean, I do. I have people that I consider close to me, and people who are important to me, but I never reveal myself completely to these people. There are always pieces of me that are hidden. No one knows the whole story (I mean, if you want to get technical no one can, but you understand what I mean?). I hide things. It's not that I don't consciously trust them. I do...consciously. It's just that subconsciously I'm acting as a minister. Ministers don't become "friends" with people in their churches. They are "friendly." There is always a barrier between ministers and their congregants. They are always professional, even as they behave in friendly ways. They are counselors, advisors, teachers, and guides, but never - never are they "friends."

The problem is I don't have a church...so...I act that way with everyone (except my family).

I've had people call me after years of not speaking asking for advice. I even slip into the role of counselor with people that I've known for years. I do it without thinking about it. It's only when I'm half done giving advice that I realized what I've done.

And before I know it, I've taken on that role with that person.

It sucks.

Now that I recognize this in myself, I'm not entirely sure what to do. It is a natural state for me. I do it well (I mean, I was sort of bred this way). Taking down walls with people who I feel close to is difficult. I've been doing this for so long it's a struggle to bare my vulnerabilities and concerns to people I would call close friends. I'm not sure when I should turn this state "on" and when it should go "off." The whole thing is scary.

I wonder now if the personal difficulties I've had this summer are a way for me to learn how to be close to people - to let someone else take care of me in the way I've been caring for others all my life. It might be one of the lessons I'm supposed to learn (though Lord knows it's hard). Even if it's not the main lesson, it is certainly something I need to practice. Who knows? I might actually figure out how to be a regular person. What a thought!

Titles Don't Make Leaders

"What does it take to be a leader?" This could easily be an opening line of a college business 201 class, however leadership isn't something reserved for business. It's something that has a place in social, political, and cultural life as well. Leadership is most especially something important to communities of faith.

In the past weeks my own spiritual journey has brought me into contact with several leadership styles and conflicts in leadership. It reminded me that faith communities need to remember several things.

Just because you have been given a leadership title does NOT make you a leader. You are not entitled to respect because you have the title. I can be given the title of CEO at a tech company in Silicon Valley, but believe me, I would have no idea the specifics of that company's needs and therefore could not lead effectively.

Leadership requires knowledge. You need to know something about the area your group is addressing. So if you're the chair of the stewardship committee, you should probably have at least have a vague understanding of where revenue streams come from in a faith community and how you might go about getting more.

But this isn't the only kind of knowledge you need to be a leader. A leader needs to be able to command people. This means they should know how to facilitate a meeting, for example. They should know how to direct people to a task and keep them on task.

Additionally, a leader often has certain qualities that distinguish him or her from the group. They likely have charisma - something that automatically draws people in. Often times when a leader walks into a room, you know it. Their presence speaks before they open their mouths.  Leaders have confidence. They make decisions, delegate, and execute. They don't hem and haw and waste time. If a mistake is made, they accept it, re-evaluate, change and move on. Leaders are assertive. They see something that needs to be addressed, and they take initiative and get it done. Leaders need to be comfortable addressing a group of people. A certain amount of extroversion is useful. How can you expect a group of people to follow you if you won't get up in front of people and be the example?

Now these qualities are of a natural leader. Let's face it - some leaders are born. They grow up with the ability to command and can do nothing less than dominate a room. But what about those who aren't bred to lead? Well unfortunately charisma really can't be taught. Confidence, however, can be practiced and learned. Presence can be feigned. To some extent, initiative can be learned. Extroversion can be faked, or at least practiced. Knowledge, of course, can be acquired.

So it is possible to fake it til you make it, so to speak. But many people don't bother developing these qualities in themselves. They don't seem to find it necessary. They think they have what it takes without those qualities.

It bothers me when I see people in faith communities assuming that because they have passion for an area of ministry that somehow qualifies them to be leaders.

No. Passion is good. Calling is good. But you need more than these things in order to lead a group of people and earn their respect enough so you can get something done. You cannot be a shrinking violet and hope that people won't ignore you, but will allow you to lead. Seriously...allow you to lead???

That is not leadership. I'm not sure what that is. A hot mess. A leader doesn't wait for permission. A leader executes. A leader speaks, and the masses listen. A leader delegates, and followers do. This is the way of things.

So when a person with a leadership title who is NOT ready to be a leader asks a natural leader to come on to a team, yes, it will cause problems. The titled person will wonder why he can't get a word in while everyone stops talking as soon as the natural leader opens her mouth. But we know he didn't spend any time on leadership skills and she was born that way.

To him I say, want to lead a meeting? At least read Robert's Rules for GOD's sake!

God's Signs

The question of my calling has always been in the back of my head. The idea of being in ministry has plagued me since before I could talk. It's the family business after all. My uncle is a minister. My second cousin is a minister. A couple generations back I had a relative who was a missionary and died in the field. Most importantly, my parents are both ministers.

Then of course, there are the family friends who are ministers - of which there are many. Even my godfather is a world renowned biblical scholar. And those are just the Christian friends. That doesn't even touch the Jewish, Hindu, and Islamic religious leaders my family knows and loves.

I grew up surrounded by religion.

So of course, the question arose, "Isn't Alexis going to be a pastor too?"

After all, I have all the skills. If people were bred for particular jobs, I could have been bred for the ministry. I speak, teach, and write well. People regularly come to me asking for advice. I can boil any problem down to its essentials. I have a knowledge of other cultures and perspectives. I know how to structure a worship service for maximum effectiveness. I can even sing and understand music (a bonus, though not strictly necessary to be a pastor).

BUT I have run away from the idea of being a pastor forever. The idea of being stuck with a church and dealing with all the problems I watched my parents deal with regularly sounds like a special kind of hell to me. Yet ministry isn't just about being a pastor. There are many kinds of ministry...

Now I find myself in a situation where the question of ministry has resurfaced. And seriously, it couldn't be more tangled up and crazy if I asked for it.

Let me explain without giving all the gory details.

A pastor is asked to leave because he did some really REALLY bad things that hurt a bunch of people. I knew he was within months of leaving the church when we started attending there. I also knew some of the things he had trouble with in general, though I didn't know the particulars. I knew these things without being told even BEFORE his resignation was announced. One of those people, in a position of influence in the church, was hurt very personally. I happen to have some experience with the same kind of hurt, and so am able to understand her situation, as well as communicate about it a bit more than someone without that experience.

The interim pastor in one of her sermons described foreknowledge as "discernment" and something necessary for a church, particularly one looking for where to go next. I met with her and told her about my knowledge, and she pointed out this ability as "discernment." We talked some more and we discussed our Myers-Briggs types. I'm an INFJ while she is an ENFP. These two types work extremely well together and their abilities generally compliment one another.

Needless to say, I feel like I fit in this situation a little too perfectly.


It's been a long time since God made things so evident in my life. Sure I've had moments where it was clear I was in the right place and time, but nothing that felt like it was prompting me to action. Here it is clear there is something I need to do. I'm not convinced it is help this particular church... I mean, yes obviously that is a part of it. Still it feels like there is something I need to take away from this situation. I feel like there is a lesson here - a growth opportunity for me. I know it's not something like patience. I learned that with my art students this past year (Oh kindergarteners! Oh prepubescents!). This is something more complex and more subtle. This is something that is directional. This is something that will get to my core.

I know this, the same way I knew about the pastor - the same way I knew this year was going to be a big year for my husband and I. It is unsettling.

More than ever, I'm on my guard. I'm both steeling myself against whatever might be coming my way because I know it will be big, as well as looking to find whatever clues might be hidden in even the most casual off-hand remarks. The signs are all there. Now I just have to wait to see what will be revealed. I'm both anxious and excited, because I have no idea how this will turn out. It wasn't a part of my plans at all. This is completely a God thing.