You know you're in big trouble when, while checking you out with your 18 books for the semester, the bookstore manager, a Div. school alum, looks at you and says, "This is too much." And he wasn't talking about the cost. I smiled at him, but he looked at me very seriously and said, "No really, this is too much. You shouldn't take more than two of these particular classes at the same time." Uh-oh.
So, the Berkeley grid outlines semester by semester requirements and/or recommendations, and four of my classes I selected right of the grid - Old Testament, Church history, history of worship, and patristics (Christian theology up to 451CE). That's already a lot of reading (15 books, to be precise). On top of that, I added biblical Hebrew, not that I'm ever required to take it but because I really want to learn to read scriptural texts in the original languages. I am told that the language courses, whether Hebrew, Greek or some other obscure language, add exponentially to study time. It takes a lot of time to learn a whole language over the course of a year! So the deal I made with myself is this - try it out for a couple of weeks, and if it's too much, drop the Hebrew.
Ah, but there's the rub. Have I gotten beyond the tendency to drive myself to succeed at whatever I attempt, regardless of my health, sanity and well-being? This will be the first big test. Deep down, I really want to enjoy this experience, not constantly fret over the workload. I'll let you know how this pact with myself works out.
I'm on my way to the deans' picnic followed by opening convocation. Tomorrow starts with morning Eucharist and then my first class (which just so happens to be...Hebrew!). I don't think there's any turning back now. Carpe diem!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Home again, home again...
Ah, home! When I walked in the door Friday afternoon, greeted by wagging tails and a husband who missed me (I don't think his was one of the wagging tails, but I can't be sure), it was just what I needed after an exhausting week in New Haven. I'm convinced that the planners of orientation jam as much in as they possibly can in order to wear us out so that we'll actually be relieved by the time classes begin. All in all, it was a very good week, getting acclimated to the Div. School, learning where things are and meeting deans and faculty as well as all the other students.
One of the really great things about Berkeley at Yale is that there is Eucharist every morning except Friday when there is sung Morning Prayer and a later community Eucharist at Marquand Chapel, the Yale Divinity School worship space. Even in this first week, I can sense myself getting into a rhythm of going to St. Luke's Chapel in Berkeley House to start my day, girding myself for whatever the rest of the day will bring. The community worship at 10:30 every morning is as varied in style as the Berkeley ones are solidly Anglican in tradition. Sometimes raucous and always with a lot of loud singing, the whole community - students, faculty, and staff - gathers to worship God, further uniting us even though we come from many faith traditions. It's one of the remarkale things about YDS.
Not only is there a variety of denominations and faiths, the variety of people is equally diverse. There is a sizeable cohort of new students in the vicinity of my age and above. There are also a number of young people right out of undergraduate study. In between lie second-career young folk, Peace Corps veterans, Teach for America alums, and a variety of scholars, seekers, and future chaplains. I have met some fellow students whom I could already call my friends and others who surely will become so. This will undoubtedly be as much an adventure in relationship-building as it will be study.
Too soon, I head back up to New Haven tomorrow for the Berkeley picnic which I don't want to miss. Monday will be a day to do some exploring and meet with the director of the Annand Program for Spiritual Formation to sign up for a small spiritual direction group and private spiritual direction. I'll need both to keep me grounded! Tuesday is registration, the Deans' picnic and an opening convocation at Marquand.
Stay tuned for the class list!
One of the really great things about Berkeley at Yale is that there is Eucharist every morning except Friday when there is sung Morning Prayer and a later community Eucharist at Marquand Chapel, the Yale Divinity School worship space. Even in this first week, I can sense myself getting into a rhythm of going to St. Luke's Chapel in Berkeley House to start my day, girding myself for whatever the rest of the day will bring. The community worship at 10:30 every morning is as varied in style as the Berkeley ones are solidly Anglican in tradition. Sometimes raucous and always with a lot of loud singing, the whole community - students, faculty, and staff - gathers to worship God, further uniting us even though we come from many faith traditions. It's one of the remarkale things about YDS.
Not only is there a variety of denominations and faiths, the variety of people is equally diverse. There is a sizeable cohort of new students in the vicinity of my age and above. There are also a number of young people right out of undergraduate study. In between lie second-career young folk, Peace Corps veterans, Teach for America alums, and a variety of scholars, seekers, and future chaplains. I have met some fellow students whom I could already call my friends and others who surely will become so. This will undoubtedly be as much an adventure in relationship-building as it will be study.
Too soon, I head back up to New Haven tomorrow for the Berkeley picnic which I don't want to miss. Monday will be a day to do some exploring and meet with the director of the Annand Program for Spiritual Formation to sign up for a small spiritual direction group and private spiritual direction. I'll need both to keep me grounded! Tuesday is registration, the Deans' picnic and an opening convocation at Marquand.
Stay tuned for the class list!
Monday, August 23, 2010
Getting oriented
And so it begins. I arrived in New Haven last night, completed the setup of my apartment this morning, and registered for Before the Fall Orientation this afternoon (get the pun - before the fall?), meeting with a small group and enjoying a welcome ceremony and dinner. I can't figure out why I'm so exhausted - it isn't as if the day was that strenuous! However, meeting so many new people and still uncertain about what the coming week holds is enough to unnerve anybody, I suppose.
I still don't know when I meet with an advisor about classes. The Berkeley Divinity School curriculum requirements are fairly regimented, so it's not as if I have a lot of wiggle room on class selection. But the thought of not knowing until the day before classes begin just what I'll be doing when they do begin is unsettling. So my mantra for the week is 'don't worry; be happy' as Luke said in his 12th chapter.
Tim and I just finished our first Skype date. It's nice to be able to see him while I talk to him, although I think the dogs were very confused that they could hear me, but I wasn't around anywhere!
It's a busy week ahead with a dizzying array of activities. Fortunately, we aren't expected to do everything, so I plan to give myself some down time here at my nest. I wonder if I can front-load on rest and sleep to carry me through the late night Old Testament texts? I didn't think so...
I still don't know when I meet with an advisor about classes. The Berkeley Divinity School curriculum requirements are fairly regimented, so it's not as if I have a lot of wiggle room on class selection. But the thought of not knowing until the day before classes begin just what I'll be doing when they do begin is unsettling. So my mantra for the week is 'don't worry; be happy' as Luke said in his 12th chapter.
Tim and I just finished our first Skype date. It's nice to be able to see him while I talk to him, although I think the dogs were very confused that they could hear me, but I wasn't around anywhere!
It's a busy week ahead with a dizzying array of activities. Fortunately, we aren't expected to do everything, so I plan to give myself some down time here at my nest. I wonder if I can front-load on rest and sleep to carry me through the late night Old Testament texts? I didn't think so...
Sunday, August 15, 2010
In praise of vacations
He said to them, "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves
and rest a while."
Mark 6:31
Contemporary society somehow got this part all wrong. Constant connection via cell phone and Blackberry (or, in my case, Droid) is not just the norm, it's expected. Good grief, people, even Jesus understood the need for time away!
And away we went to the beautiful Poconos in northeastern PA. We were delayed by a day so that I could go down to Bethesda to see my friends, so by the time we arrived, it was a desperately needed break. It never ceases to amaze me how hard Tim and I drive ourselves so that when we do slow down for a few days, we really slow down! Up at 9:30 or 10:00 in the morning, nap around 3:00, bed at 11:00. I think we did more sleeping in those 4 days than we have since I can remember.
I think we are pretty humble people. We know that the world will continue to spin without us. Yet somehow we have bought into our own indispensability. Maybe for Tim, this is sort of true. He does own his own business, after all. Me? I'm gainfully unemployed at the moment, almost a grad student. But when I finished with my work, we spent a busy moving-in weekend in New Haven and then got the news about Jay. By the time we drove up to the mountains, we were two weary souls.
This is something that Jesus understood all too well. People were constantly following, pleading, touching, trying to get a piece of him and the disciples. But he knew that we need refreshment and rest. "Come away," he says. You're of no use to anyone if you are exhausted and worn out. Take a minute or two to relax. Take a nap in a boat (Mark 4:38). Go to a quiet place. The world can spare you for a while. Hike in the mountains, play with Boudreau and Satchel, take naps. It's okay. Your work will wait for you.
Thanks. I needed that.
We interrupt your regularly scheduled blogging to bring you this special announcement.
For a moment, I need to write about someone besides myself. Someone I love very much. Someone in serious need of prayer. I want to tell you about a boy named Jay (we actually called him Jamie, but now that he is an adult, he prefers Jay).
I met Jay and his family at church. We started going there in about 1988 when Rachel was almost 6 and Seth was about 3. It wasn't too long before we became friends with a great couple with two boys, one a few years older than Rachel and one just younger. Jay was the younger of the two. Even though there was a 2-year and 3-month age difference, Jay and Seth became fastest of friends. They shared a deep and abiding interest in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Ghostbusters and all of the assorted weaponry that went along with those comics and cartoons. Jay, being older, actually owned a ninja bo and real nunchucks and assorted other weapons, much to Seth's extreme jealousy! These two were inseparable, sharing a fantasy-world with an intensity that others of their friends could not have understood. These were my boys, and I loved listening to them play and hearing them spin their stories!
Funny thing about these two sensitive little boys who played at such violent games - I think it was all a sham. Especially for Jay, I believe that living in a world of make-believe where he possessed super fighting skills was his way of getting by in a sometimes scary world where monsters and tough guys seemed to rule and gentle ones like himself were victims. He and Seth were kindred spirits that way, and maybe that's why they were so close during those years when make-believe is still an accepted form of play.
Because of the age difference, Jay discovered high school and girls way before Seth, so they began to drift apart as Jay made his way through adolescence. There were still occasional sleepovers and that road trip that I took them on to Red Bank, NJ to see where the film 'Clerks' was made. Yes, their movie sophistication (or lack thereof) had come a long way from TMNT! And we prevailed upon Jay to carry the cross in the wedding procession when Tim and I married in 1999. After that, contact was pretty limited. Rachel ran into Jay's brother a time or two and, while the adults continued to see each other from time to time, my news of the goings-on with Jay came through his parents.
Obviously, Jay grew up, and it took some time for him to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. I remember talk of Navy Seals or military intelligence, but he found his calling as a medic, joining the Marines and training as a corpsman. One thing you have to understand about a Marine corpsman - he'll do anything to take care of his marines, and they, in turn, do anything they can to take care of and protect him. It looked like Jay had finally discovered a way to battle the monsters in a productive and useful manner - to care for the wounded on the battlefield, doing whatever he needed to do to save his comrades.
Jay went to Afghanistan this spring. He came back to the States on August 8th, four days after stepping on an IED in Helmand Province. He lost both legs and an arm. The other arm is severely damaged and the hand has just a thumb and forefinger. Mercifully, there does not appear to be any brain damage and his internal organs are fine. He's at Bethesda Naval Medical Center where he has undergone surgery with more to come. When he's ready, he'll go to Walter Reed for rehab and prosthetics. This will be a long, long road for him and his young wife.
I lost a son to suicide. I continue to grieve and feel that loss with every waking minute. I've never been angry about it as is so common among survivors of suicide. I can only feel on overwhelming sorrow for the pain Seth must have experienced.
But Jay? This makes me angry. What is the point of this beautiful, gentle and kind young man getting blown to bits in a faraway land in a war that has lost its purpose? Oh, I understand that the Taliban are the bad guys and harbor the perpetrators of 9/11, but the US is not the first country to discover that winning a war in that country is not within the realm of possibility. And yet we continue to send our young people over to fight and die. And then, then one day it's not just some young soldier. It's Jay. And I'm heartbroken for him and for his family and hope that he and they will find the strength to do whatever it is they need to do to heal and recover and rebuild his life.
Please pray for him, my friends.
I love you, Jamie. I only wish you had stuck with the nunchucks.
I met Jay and his family at church. We started going there in about 1988 when Rachel was almost 6 and Seth was about 3. It wasn't too long before we became friends with a great couple with two boys, one a few years older than Rachel and one just younger. Jay was the younger of the two. Even though there was a 2-year and 3-month age difference, Jay and Seth became fastest of friends. They shared a deep and abiding interest in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Ghostbusters and all of the assorted weaponry that went along with those comics and cartoons. Jay, being older, actually owned a ninja bo and real nunchucks and assorted other weapons, much to Seth's extreme jealousy! These two were inseparable, sharing a fantasy-world with an intensity that others of their friends could not have understood. These were my boys, and I loved listening to them play and hearing them spin their stories!
Funny thing about these two sensitive little boys who played at such violent games - I think it was all a sham. Especially for Jay, I believe that living in a world of make-believe where he possessed super fighting skills was his way of getting by in a sometimes scary world where monsters and tough guys seemed to rule and gentle ones like himself were victims. He and Seth were kindred spirits that way, and maybe that's why they were so close during those years when make-believe is still an accepted form of play.
Because of the age difference, Jay discovered high school and girls way before Seth, so they began to drift apart as Jay made his way through adolescence. There were still occasional sleepovers and that road trip that I took them on to Red Bank, NJ to see where the film 'Clerks' was made. Yes, their movie sophistication (or lack thereof) had come a long way from TMNT! And we prevailed upon Jay to carry the cross in the wedding procession when Tim and I married in 1999. After that, contact was pretty limited. Rachel ran into Jay's brother a time or two and, while the adults continued to see each other from time to time, my news of the goings-on with Jay came through his parents.
Obviously, Jay grew up, and it took some time for him to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. I remember talk of Navy Seals or military intelligence, but he found his calling as a medic, joining the Marines and training as a corpsman. One thing you have to understand about a Marine corpsman - he'll do anything to take care of his marines, and they, in turn, do anything they can to take care of and protect him. It looked like Jay had finally discovered a way to battle the monsters in a productive and useful manner - to care for the wounded on the battlefield, doing whatever he needed to do to save his comrades.
Jay went to Afghanistan this spring. He came back to the States on August 8th, four days after stepping on an IED in Helmand Province. He lost both legs and an arm. The other arm is severely damaged and the hand has just a thumb and forefinger. Mercifully, there does not appear to be any brain damage and his internal organs are fine. He's at Bethesda Naval Medical Center where he has undergone surgery with more to come. When he's ready, he'll go to Walter Reed for rehab and prosthetics. This will be a long, long road for him and his young wife.
I lost a son to suicide. I continue to grieve and feel that loss with every waking minute. I've never been angry about it as is so common among survivors of suicide. I can only feel on overwhelming sorrow for the pain Seth must have experienced.
But Jay? This makes me angry. What is the point of this beautiful, gentle and kind young man getting blown to bits in a faraway land in a war that has lost its purpose? Oh, I understand that the Taliban are the bad guys and harbor the perpetrators of 9/11, but the US is not the first country to discover that winning a war in that country is not within the realm of possibility. And yet we continue to send our young people over to fight and die. And then, then one day it's not just some young soldier. It's Jay. And I'm heartbroken for him and for his family and hope that he and they will find the strength to do whatever it is they need to do to heal and recover and rebuild his life.
Please pray for him, my friends.
I love you, Jamie. I only wish you had stuck with the nunchucks.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Our New England "vacation home"
Many years ago, Tim sat down to write a personal goals list. Leadership development guru that he is, he understands that if you don't somehow make your goals clear and unambiguous, you won't know if actually reach them. Among his goals were a trip to Paris (check), an Ohio State-Michigan football game (check), and a trip to Australia (check). Also on that list was a vacation home in New England. Now the debate begins - does a tiny efficiency apartment in New Haven satisfy this goal?
We've spent the past three days dropping some change at IKEA and Bed, Bath & Beyond, spending hours assembling our purchases. This small little apartment in a lovely part of town less than half-mile from the divinity school is starting to look like a home. Funny thing, though. I was thinking about how odd it felt to have signed a lease on a place of my own when I have a beautiful house that I share with Tim and the furry kids. What on earth was I doing?
Well, with all the building and sweating and arranging and laughing and working, we created a new home...together. It's not just my apartment - it's ours. While I'll probably be coming home more often than he will schlep the dogs up to see me, it's still a home that we've established together, so even when I'm there on my own, part of Tim will be there with me, and that's a great comfort to me.
So honey, I'm afraid that the answer is 'yes' - you do have a second home in New England. For me, it's a work-home, but when you come to see me, it's your vacation spot. Congratulations on reaching another personal goal!
We've spent the past three days dropping some change at IKEA and Bed, Bath & Beyond, spending hours assembling our purchases. This small little apartment in a lovely part of town less than half-mile from the divinity school is starting to look like a home. Funny thing, though. I was thinking about how odd it felt to have signed a lease on a place of my own when I have a beautiful house that I share with Tim and the furry kids. What on earth was I doing?
Well, with all the building and sweating and arranging and laughing and working, we created a new home...together. It's not just my apartment - it's ours. While I'll probably be coming home more often than he will schlep the dogs up to see me, it's still a home that we've established together, so even when I'm there on my own, part of Tim will be there with me, and that's a great comfort to me.
So honey, I'm afraid that the answer is 'yes' - you do have a second home in New England. For me, it's a work-home, but when you come to see me, it's your vacation spot. Congratulations on reaching another personal goal!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Of endings and new beginnings
Today was my last day at work at Episcopal Community Services. When I began there on April 24, 2000, I was a newlywed (not quite 8 months in), my children were in high school, and I was working as a part-time church musician. George W. Bush was elected (or should I say appointed) president that fall. September 11th took place in my second year on a vividly blue-skied Tuesday morning that I will never forget. Rachel went off to college and graduated in 4 years. Seth turned in some extraordinary performances, went off to NYU, and, sadly, began his struggle with depression. So much has changed in these 10 years.
One thing that hasn't changed is this vocational pursuit I've travelled for longer than I can remember. Even when I arrived at ECS, I felt as if this were simply the place God wanted me to be at that time, and I like to think that I've used my time well. The agency does wonderful work with the most vulnerable of the brothers and sisters in our community. I've learned so much about the social services environment and living out our baptismal covenant in our day-to-day lives. And mostly I've learned in a very real and tangible way that every person is necessary to the success of our community, whether at work or in the neighborhood and beyond. I think that one of the staff persons at ECS St. Barnabas Mission said it best at my farewell party today. He said that when he arrived, was so excited to come to the main office to see the 'big shots,' but when he got there he realized that we were just family. I think that's what Jesus meant by the one body in which we all have a part.
And now, the new adventure begins. This weekend, Tim will help me set up my New Haven apartment, and we'll take a week in the Poconos with the dogs. Before I know it, classes will begin at Yale Divinity School, and ECS and all its people will fade into the fabric of my life. This isn't a bad thing, though. Every strand of that fabric, beautiful and ugly alike, helped to create the person I am, and if I wanted to pull out those threads that were shameful or painful or difficult, it would ruin the pattern that God has wrought in me. The pattern may not be perfect, but then, neither am I.
One thing that hasn't changed is this vocational pursuit I've travelled for longer than I can remember. Even when I arrived at ECS, I felt as if this were simply the place God wanted me to be at that time, and I like to think that I've used my time well. The agency does wonderful work with the most vulnerable of the brothers and sisters in our community. I've learned so much about the social services environment and living out our baptismal covenant in our day-to-day lives. And mostly I've learned in a very real and tangible way that every person is necessary to the success of our community, whether at work or in the neighborhood and beyond. I think that one of the staff persons at ECS St. Barnabas Mission said it best at my farewell party today. He said that when he arrived, was so excited to come to the main office to see the 'big shots,' but when he got there he realized that we were just family. I think that's what Jesus meant by the one body in which we all have a part.
And now, the new adventure begins. This weekend, Tim will help me set up my New Haven apartment, and we'll take a week in the Poconos with the dogs. Before I know it, classes will begin at Yale Divinity School, and ECS and all its people will fade into the fabric of my life. This isn't a bad thing, though. Every strand of that fabric, beautiful and ugly alike, helped to create the person I am, and if I wanted to pull out those threads that were shameful or painful or difficult, it would ruin the pattern that God has wrought in me. The pattern may not be perfect, but then, neither am I.
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