Sunday, August 17, 2014

Unrest in Ferguson: What Are We To Do?

One week ago Saturday, 18 year old Michael Brown was killed by a policeman in Ferguson (in St. Louis County).  I've been watching the news, which was first local in St. Louis and has now become national.  Even PBS and NPR (my go to news organizations) are covering it.  Yet another young, unarmed black man has been killed in our streets.  I grieve his death.  With his family, I also grieve the violence and looting that some people have perpetrated in that St. Louis suburb.

I was grateful to see so many clergy, especially Episcopalians whom I know, march in the streets Thursday in a peaceful protest.  Our bishop, Wayne Smith, was there.  The dean of our Cathedral, Mike Kinman, was there.  I also spotted my friend, the Rev. Marc Smith, there.

With the kind of national attention this is receiving, I assume all black people in Jefferson City are also aware of what's happening in Ferguson. I want to share a bit personal reflection. 

I run errands on Saturdays.  I generally don't pay much attention to anyone I encounter, unless I happen to know them personally. I am focused on my tasks. 

As I ran my errands around town today, a weird thing happened.  Of course, I encountered black people on High Street when I went to lunch downtown and in the stores where I shopped.  I found myself making a point to nod and smile at the black people today.  While I was waiting at a stoplight near home, a group of 8 or so black children [some on bicycles and some on foot] started crossing the street in front of me "against the light" just before the light turned green.  I smiled and gave them a wave, rather than being peeved and asserting my right to proceed the moment "my" light turned green.  

Because of what's happening in Ferguson, I felt a special need to acknowledge them all as persons.  And I probably wanted my nods and smiles today to convey "I'm not one of Those People."  Maybe these were empty gestures of White Guilt.  I don't know.  But I feel that people who enjoy White Privilege [and there's no doubt it exists, and I benefit from it] must do something to express our common humanity with black folks, many of whom surely must be wondering afresh who is "friend" or "foe." 

I know that's not enough.  But I'm too far from St. Louis to march with the peaceful people in Ferguson.  What can a person here do to express solidarity with the people of Ferguson? More particularly, what can someone like me do to express outrage that unarmed black people are gunned down in our streets?  

Labels: , , ,

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Dear Diary: August 13, 2014

I had a bit of a drama Wednesday, which landed me in the Emergency Room of the local hospital.  I was able to come home that evening.  Here's the account I sent to my sister and a couple of friends. 

Long story short: I just got home from the ER.  I'm ok, but doc tells me not to get far from home for the next 5 to 7 days.  So, alas, I will not go to Springfield tomorrow & Friday for the training.   
I woke up this morning feeling "weird."  Kinda shaky, dizzy, queasy, unsteady on my feet, and with a headache. I had had a rotten night of not good sleep.  Called in sick to the office and went back to bed.  Got up at noontime, not feeling a whole lot better, but determined to get to the office to prepare for the Springfield trip.  Finally went into the office about 2pm.  
While meeting with the Conservators in the lab from about 3 to 4pm, it got worse.  Got up from chair to get a pencil, and stumbled and nearly fell.  It happened again a bit later.  They were concerned, and I was increasingly concerned.  
Sandy suggested maybe it was low blood pressure, and urged me to go to my doc's office at JCMG, because they'll check blood pressure for walk ins.  I did a few more chores in the office.  I made it to the doctor’s office just before 5:00.
You need to know this about my blood pressure:  I joke that I have "lizard blood pressure."  The top # is usually in the 100 to 120 range, even when I race to the doctor because I'm running late.  In my life, that number has never been above 130.  
So they took me in.  BP was 160/82!   Then listened to my heart, and the nurse (glancing at me while listening), asked "Afib?"  I said, "No, not that I've ever known. Do I have it now?"  She kinda nodded and left the room.  She came back after talking with my doc, and told me to go straight to the ER.   
So I drove myself to St. Mary's and signed in.  I had to wait about 20 minutes before getting into triage.  I spent that time doing my best imitation of a Zen Buddhist: all calm and breathing deep. I think they called that "bio feedback" back in the day.  A way to calm your body's systems. Meanwhile, I was also terrified I was going to have a stroke or heart attack or something while waiting.  
Then they took me into the triage area.  Now my BP was 179 over 80'something.  Crap!  Nurse came and got me settled into a room, hooked me up to monitors, did the usual interview about symptoms.  
ER doc comes in.  Dr. Parks.  This is the same doc I saw several years ago when I woke up one morning with total paralysis of my right hand from the wrist down.  I'm sure she didn't recognize me, but I remembered her.  Liked her a lot.  
Over the course of the next two hours, they did an EKG.  Also monitored various things, like one test where they monitor you while lying down, then sitting up, then standing.  By this time, I was feeling better.  BP was down to the low 150s.  Still pretty darn high for me, but I wasn't feeling as horrible as I had been. 
There were long periods where they just left me alone, while continuing to monitor.  Dr. Parks comes back, having reviewed everything, and says she sees nothing critical.  She says I can go home.  She told me to (a) not travel for the next week and (b) check my blood pressure daily for the next week.  
I asked what the heck could cause my blood pressure to spike nearly 50 points higher than it has ever been.  She really didn't have an explanation.  Said that's why I need to do daily BP checks for the next week, to see if something's happening.  She also encouraged me to come back ASAP if it recurs.  
So here I am at home.  With no idea why this happened.   

Labels:

Monday, June 23, 2014

Health Care Inequity

Some of you may remember the story of when I spent two years in Philadelphia and worked in a job I loved but which had no benefits.  No sick leave, no vacation, no health care.  I was also profoundly depressed during that time. So I  informed everyone around me that if I was sick or injured, they were not to take me to the hospital  I preferred to die rather than to rack up medical bills that I could never pay. Fortunately, I had no such illness or injury.
Now I have a job with health insurance.  One condition of that insurance is that we must get annual physicals.  This year, it also required that we get glucose and cholesterol tests. I’ve been keeping the statements about what it would have cost me as an uninsured person versus what I’ve had to pay.  I can’t make a table on Blogspot, but I hope you can see the numbers.

Date                                      Amt Billed             Amt I Owe          Service
April 25                                 $126.00                $0                           glucose/cholesterol tests
June 3                                   $315.00                 $0                           shingles vaccination
June 3                                   $206.00                 $0                           annual physical exam
June 3                                   $6.00                     $0                           some sort of diagnostic lab

This is not fair!  Because I have the good fortune now to be in a job with health insurance, I received $653 in medical services over a five week period, for which I haven’t paid one penny.  But if I were unemployed or working in a job without health insurance, I would owe $653 to my doctor.  Need I tell you how much $653 means to an uninsured person in a low paying job??
And it’s going to get worse.  My mammogram showed “something suspicious” earlier this month, so I had a 2nd mammogram and an ultrasound.  I’ll let you know how those numbers appear.
It makes my head spin that the “Christianists” on the right wing of the political spectrum oppose the expansion of health care. Those people supposedly follow Jesus Christ, who healed the sick. But they have no compassion toward those whom Jesus healed.  And, frankly, it disappoints me that President Obama and the Democrats caved on the Affordable Care Act.  It is patently unjust that those who are least able to afford health care get charged more than I do.  And, finally, I reserve my utter contempt for the Republican oligarchy in the Missouri Legislature, who refused to extend Medicare to the least and most desperate of our citizens … while most of them claim their “Christian” credentials.  Shame on them. A pox upon them.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

My Introduction to the United Thank Offering

This will appear in my parish newsletter on June 1st, but I decided to share it here.
 = == = = =
My Introduction to the United Thank Offering
In late 1998, I packed up my worldly goods from my Atlanta home and drove a moving truck to Philadelphia.  Not because I had a great job opportunity, but because I had friends who had given me a safety net.  Financial ignorance had wrecked my world.  I was broke, and I would have been homeless if not for those friends who found me a place to live “free” in exchange for labor.
During that time, the Episcopal Church found me, as one of my friends was a parish priest there.  I – who hadn’t darkened the doors of a church in two decades – began attending church regularly. Before long, someone gave me one of the little coin boxes from the United Thank Offering [UTO].
I took it to my tiny room, and an odd thing started happening.  While deeply grieving my great fall, I started noticing little blessings in my life.  And I began to drop coins into that box every evening when I had coins, along with some little prayer for a blessing that the day had brought.  
I didn’t realize it at the time, but that little coin box was a powerful force in teaching me the habit of gratitude.  I had been spared the horror of homelessness.  The little UTO box became the way I could give thanks with a penny or dime or nickel or (occasionally) a quarter.  And every one of those coins was bathed in a prayer of thanksgiving.  I wasn’t homeless.  I wasn’t living in my car.  I had found a faith community to support me.  I had found a place that would accept me and my two cats.  I was safe, and I was warm in that cold winter.  I saw many other people in Philadelphia sleeping on subway grates; at least I had a warm room in a house. 
Over the next few months, the Grace Stewardship Team is going to write about UTO and its “Little Blue Boxes,” into which we are invited to drop coins and say prayers of thanksgiving. We will distribute those boxes in June and explain more about what the UTO supports.
The UTO is neither a fundraiser nor a stewardship campaign, and none of the coins received will remain at Grace.  The UTO and its “Blue Boxes” invite us to give thanks to God every day for the blessings we receive.  At its base, it is an invitation to a spiritual discipline of gratitude.  

Labels: ,

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Those Darn Protestants ... a.k.a. Rushing the Liturgical Season Along

When people ask me if I'm Catholic or Protestant around here, I can't answer. As an Episcopalian, I think I am much more Catholic than Protestant. 

Case in point: Here we are in Tuesday in Holy Week.  I went to get the sacrament of St. Arbuck's today, and this is what I saw on the gigantic billboard of a local Southern Baptist Church: 

HE IS RISEN! 
HE IS RISEN INDEED! 

I kid you not.  We haven't even reached Good Friday, but those dang Baptists are Jumping the Shark over all of Holy Week, straight to the resurrection.  

I am gobsmacked. 

Fundamentalists generally slobber and waller all over the cross.  But not this one.  They're just jumping straight to Easter ... 5 days early.  What the heck's up with that?  

Frankly, I think it's a cheap Christianity that fails to spend time in this Holy Week,  spending time with Jesus through Good Friday ... and then imagining what his followers must have felt through Friday and Saturday. I think we must let our imaginations dwell deeply with it all before we come to Sunday.  That's what I'm doing this Holy Week.  Walking with Jesus.  

Labels: ,

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Another Palm Sunday

I’ve been in The Episcopal Church since it found and rescued me in 1996.  And I have never been comfortable with this Sunday. Some call it Palm Sunday.  Some call it Passion Sunday.  For me, it is always a Sunday of deep grief and mixed emotions. 

I love our liturgy and our lectionary!  I really do.  But this day – called “Palm Sunday” or “Passion Sunday” depending on where you are – just tears me up. We start with the marvelous procession with palms and hosannas out on the street.  Then in the long reading of the Gospel, we crucify him again. 

I always have liturgical whiplash at the end of this Sunday’s service.  Today was no different. 

I’m reminded of these lines from Richard Wilbur’s poem
It takes a sky-blue juggler with five red balls
To shake our gravity up.
And surely this young man from Galilee has shaken up our gravity.  He has turned the Torah upside down.  He has brought the outsiders inside.   He has brought promise of a whole new reign of justice and caritas

And this week we’ll go liturgically through his death. Again. Yet again. Just like we do every Holy Week.   Year after year after year. 

Today, as all our parishioners gathered on the sidewalk outside our little parish, with palm fronds in hand … and then processed into the church singing “All glory, laud, and honor,” it was difficult for me to join in the joyful chorus.  Because I knew where the Gospel reading was going to take us.  Where it takes us every year. It was going to take us to a man abandoned by his closest friends.  To a man crying, “My God, why have you forsaken me?”  To a man dying a horrible death. 

We go through this cycle every year.  Advent.  Christmas. Epiphany.  Lent.  Holy Week.  And it’s always the same.  We wind up killing this sky-blue juggler who shakes up our gravity.  The weight of it today was almost more than I could bear …  as the liturgy moved from “All glory, laud and honor” to “O sacred head, sore wounded, defiled and put to scorn.” 

And so I wept through too much of today’s service. 

When will quit killing the sky-blue juggler who shakes up our gravity? 

Lord, have mercy. 

Monday, October 21, 2013

Why Should We Send Alternates to General Convention?

According to the Canons of the Episcopal Church, each diocese elects 4 clergy Deputies and 4 lay Deputies to serve at General Convention [GC], and up to four Alternate Deputies in each order.  In most dioceses, the diocese pays for the eight clergy and lay Deputies to attend GC.  Most (but not all) dioceses also pay for the 1st Alternate Deputy in each order to attend Convention. 
Attendance at General Convention is very expensive.  It typically lasts about 10 days or so.  There are significant transportation costs.  Hotels typically charge over $100 per night.  And meal/per-diem costs rack up over the days of GC -- $61 per day in Salt Lake City/2015 according to the current GSA rates.  That means each Alternate Deputy will “cost” the diocese about $160 per day to attend GC, plus transportation. 
I have heard one dominant reason for sending the 1st Alternate Deputy in each order: That they might step in to take the place of a Deputy who cannot serve in one session, or in case a Deputy becomes ill or injured.  …  And, yes, most Deputations also step aside so that their Alternates can have some time on the floor of GC. …  Mostly, the arguments I’ve heard for sending Alternates to GC is so they can step in if need be.
But funds are tight, and some dioceses are questioning the need to spend that much money to send their 1st lay and clergy Alternate Deputies to General Convention.
At least one Bishop has phrased it this way: “When I sit in the House of Bishops, there is no one to stand in as my substitute.  If I cannot spend a moment or an hour or a day, there is no one to stand in for me. Why should we pay to bring to Alternate Deputies to spend some 10 days at GC just in case they are needed?”  I can understand that reasoning, in this time of tight budgets.  That bishop was arguing from a National League baseball perspective:  S/he has no “designated hitter” to run to the HoB floor in his/her place.   
Since I began closely following GC in 2003, my only rationale for sending/supporting our clergy and lay Alternates had been my understanding of something like that “designated hitter ruler.”  I thought we needed a substitute, in case one of the Deputies was indisposed for an hour or a day or more.
Today, I realized there’s another reason – which probably doesn’t occur to many bishops.  It’s leadership development ... or call it "continuity planning." 
When a bishop is elected, s/he has all sorts of training and mentoring.  By the time a new Bishop gets to General Convention, s/he probably has established a network of colleagues.  But it is not so with GC Deputies.  The only way to learn how to serve as a Deputy is to serve as a Deputy.  Bringing eight Deputies, plus two Alternates, gives us two more people who can observe the workings of GC and participate in the governance of our church.  It’s training.  It’s leadership development.  It’s continuity planning. It is not merely having a “designated hitter” in the dugout in case someone wants a little break.  Bishops get years and years to serve in the House of Bishops.  But in the House of Deputies, we have to develop our own leadership.  And bringing Alternate Deputies, I come to see, is one of the significant ways we can do that. 
That’s my insight du jour.  Bishops get careful mentoring and many GCs in which to develop their skills, relationships, and understanding.  Bringing Alternate Deputies to GC is a way to help develop skills, leadership, and relationships among the rest of the clergy and laity.  It’s a way to empower the rest of us to see the bigger picture. 
Next time I hear of a Bishop arguing against bringing the 1st Alternates to General Convention, I’m going to push back for new reasons.  And I’m going to push back hard

Labels: , ,

Sunday, October 06, 2013

Stewardship Statement Today

I’m a member of my parish’s Stewardship Team.  We are no longer just about the “annual pledge drive.”  We have a year-round mission of helping to educate, inform, and inspire the parish to contemplate and live out stewardship in all its manifestations.  We lead book and movie discussions.  We host special events.  We try to keep “stewardship” in the forefront of our parish awareness throughout the year.

But this is October – the month when most Episcopal parishes do their “pledge drive.”

In the past 3 or 4 years, we did a combined “pledge drive,” asking people to pledge their money, time, and talents.  This year, we decided to let October be about financial support of the parish.  (We’ll tackle time and talent in early 2014.)  After much discussion, we decided to talk about money this month.   You know how Christians – and Episcopalians – don’t want to talk about money.  It’s considered gauche.  Most of us were raised with the mantra that – in polite society – we do not discuss politics, sex, religion, or money.  But Jesus and the Gospel writers talked more about money than about almost any other topic. Our Stewardship Committee decided we’d dare to touch that “fourth rail”; we decided to talk quite explicitly about money this month.

Each October Sunday during the “announcements” period at the 8:00 and 10:30 services, one of us Stewardship Team members will stand up and talk about Church and money.  We are to share something from our personal experience.  Today was the first of those Sundays, and I was first up at the 10:30 service.   I went to the lectern with four small note cards with “bullet points” on them.  In case any of you want to know, I’m going to try here to write what I tried to say today from that lectern.

Hello, I’m Lisa Fox, and I’m a member of our Stewardship Team. 

As I was preparing to talk with you today, it struck me that this is a significant anniversary for me. Fifteen years ago this weekend, on Friday night, I drove my moving van to Jefferson City.  I spent Saturday unpacking as much as I could. Then Sunday, I walked into this church for the first time.  From that first Sunday, you made me feel at home. I wrote my first offering check that day. And I have never quit giving my money to this parish since then. 

There’s an old saw that “polite” people don’t talk about sex, politics, religion, or money.  But our Stewardship Team has made a very conscious decision to talk about money this year.  And so I shall.

A few moments ago, we heard the children’s choir introit.  They sang almost everything we need to hear as they sang, “I am the Church. You are the Church.  We are the Church together.” 

But I want to share a few thoughts with you anyway.

I want to tell you why I tithe to Grace.  By the way, I am a little nervous saying that I tithe.  I don’t want it to sound like I’m bragging.  But we hear others talk about their spiritual disciplines. For example, some people mention that they pray the Daily Office.  Why shouldn’t I also say that tithing is part of my spiritual discipline?

Here are three reasons why I tithe.

First, I tithe in gratitude for what God has done and is still doing in my life.  Our priest reminds us that the definition of “Eucharist” is “thanksgiving.” I tithe because God has blessed and redeemed me more than I ever deserved.

Second, I tithe in gratitude for what this parish is doing and has done for me, and in gratitude for what it’s doing for other parishioners. I expect most of you, too, have been blessed by the ministry of our members.

Third, I tithe in gratitude for and solidarity with Grace’s mission outreach to the wider community and for what that lets us share with the Diocese and the wider Episcopal Church. 

Last year, I was pleased that I finally pledged 10% of my income to this parish.  But then something happened.  As several of you know, my paid-off car was totaled while I safely at home in June. I had to buy a new-to-me car.  I had counted the cost and thought I knew what I could afford.  But the payments came up a bit higher than I expected.  When the first payment came due – God help me, I confess – I immediately thought, “I cannot afford this.  I have to make room in my budget.  I guess I’ll have to reduce my pledge to the Church.”

And then a big head-slap came out to me – maybe from the Holy Spirit, or maybe from within my own spirit. 

I was reminded of what I have so often heard: “A budget is a moral document.”  I believe that.  I have a budget.  And I thought of all the items I have in that budget, including my Internet connection, my cell phone charges, my eating-out budget, and my larger-than-it-should-be Starbucks budget.  What in the world made me think that I should look first to reduce my pledge to Grace Church and the mission of the Church?? 

Fortunately, that big ol’ head-slap quickly brought me to my senses.  I had made a promise to God and to this parish.  How dare I first think about reducing my parish pledge?  Why in the world would that strike me as the first possible cut? I realized I could cut back on other things to take up the slack. 

Everything I have – including this new-to-me 2007 car – is a gift from God.  And God has asked me to give the “first fruits” back to the church.  God “whopped me up-side o’ my head” about my priorities.  This parish is one of the things I treasure most in my life.  My treasure should be where my heart is.  And TEC and this parish matter more to me than my new-to-me car. 

I hope you will join me this month in discernment about what God has given you and what you value about this parish.  And please join me in discernment about what we should give back to God in gratitude for the gifts we have been given.

Labels: ,

Sunday, September 29, 2013

The Affordable Health Care Act … And Other Matters

Plenty of other people are qualified to talk about the legislation and economics and public policy implications of what even President Obama now calls “Obamacare.”  I’m not going to talk about it on such lofty terms.  I’m just going to tell my story.

Back in the 1980s-90s, I had a great salary in a marvelous job with generous, employer-sponsored health insurance.   
But I quit my job in 1996 due to “irreconcilable differences” with management.  I had a pretty good living as a trainer/consultant in my field.  What I did not have was health insurance, after the 12 months of COBRA coverage expired. 
At that point, I was in my early 40s.  But I knew that accidents could occur.  Health issues could emerge.  And I was in a state of depression, for various reasons.
I had a fear that I might have an accident or medical trauma.  I told all my friends that they were not to call 9-1-1 nor to take me to an emergency room if I were ill or injured.  I carried a card in my wallet that said the same. They were to let me die.  That was my preference.  If I was bleeding to death or having a heart attack, they were to let me die.
Why?  Partly, because I didn’t much care then whether I lived or died … and slightly preferred to die.  But I had also decided that I would not incur the debts that would come if I were given emergency treatment and the huge medical bills that would entail.  Without insurance, I knew, I could not afford to pay the hospital bills … and I didn’t want to owe my soul to a Philadelphia hospital.  My preference was to die without medical care rather than be hounded by hospital bills for years.
Today, I have health insurance again through my employer. But I will never forget how I felt in those years when I lacked any insurance and decided death would be preferable to huge medical bills.
I am furious as I watch Congress play with the Affordable Health Care Act.  Do they not realize that lives are at stake?  What makes me most angry:  The legislators who most loudly claim to be “Christian” or “evangelical” seem most opposed to the Affordable Health Care Act.  What must they do to (a) take their voting positions and (b) tear whole sections out of the Bible? 
Jesus healed the sick.  He didn’t require an insurance card.  He didn’t ask if they were worthy.  He didn’t ask if their dad was a meth-dealer or if their mother was a whore.  He didn’t ask if they had a GED.  He didn’t parse the worthy from the “unworthy.”  He healed them all. ALL!!
Legislators in Missouri and in the U.S. Congress:  Many of you claim to be Christians. So let’s see some Christ-like behavior from you! And many of you claim this is a Christian nation.  So let’s see some Christian legislation.  Feed the hungry.  Heal the sick.  Give the laborer a living wage.  You beat your chests, saying you are Good Christians.  Let’s see you act as Jesus Christ acted.   


Monday, August 05, 2013

"No One Needed Me There"

This evening I had occasion to talk with a former Grace parishioner who moved away for a new job.  She talked about her search for a new "church home" in her new city.  She went to a large parish that looked like a good match, and she went there for several weeks.  But she didn't stay.  She went to a smaller, struggling parish.  I had thought the first parish might be a good "fit" for her, so I asked, "Why didn't you stay?"  She responded, "I felt no one needed me there."  

I know the Task Force for Reimagining the Episcopal Church is doing big-sky stuff for our church writ large.  But I find myself haunted by this friend's observation. 

When visitors come to our parishes, what are we doing to welcome them?  My parish has been working on this. 

But what about those visitors who come for several Sundays, so that it looks like they might stay around?  Are we giving them something to do?  Or do we convey a message that we're doing quite fine and "we don't need them here"?  

My friend's observation hit me between the eyes.  I think we generally do a good job of welcoming folks in my parish.  But in this age, where going to church is not socially expected, maybe we should think that newcomers want to be given a chore and put to work?  I know that's how it worked for me when I moved into this small town.  After a few weeks of inviting me to join them for after-church breakfast, they nudged me into "tasks" around the parish, and I loved working with and (thus) getting to know more people, while serving Christ. 

Are we being too gentle with our visitors, who might want to be put to work?  Maybe it's a "Mary and Martha" thing.  But I know it was the "being needed" and "being put to work" that solidified my place in my parish before I had been here very long. 

I wonder . . .