Easter Relief

I’ve been hungry lately.  Not physically, of course, but spiritually.  Maybe it’s an after effect of Lent- I’ve been trying to empty myself, so naturally I might feel a few pangs.  Lent isn’t the easiest time, but I’ve been reminding myself that some of the most growing spiritual times in our lives come after, or through, a period of wilderness. 

During an early season practice of cross country one year (this was awhile ago!), I expressed to my friend during a run that ‘this isn’t as easy as some of my runs this summer.’  She quickly reminded me that, ‘it’s not supposed to be easy.’  Good friends tell you the truth.  

I’ve been thinking, though, that Lent might have been harder for me this year because I made an effort to reflect.  Usually it’s easier not to think about our lives- it tends to get messy and difficult when we ask ourselves hard questions (kind of like when you have a coach pushing you to run harder than you did during the off season).  But I did it this year.  And one of the things I think I discovered was this: I’m not always sure what I need.  I can’t always pinpoint where my hunger lies.  

Some of my friends who work in churches that are financially struggling, or in more urban settings, often have a very obvious sense of where the hunger is- they can see it right in front of their faces and it tells them how to get to work.  But for those of us who have everything, we often feel empty and don’t know why.  How could we feel empty when we have so much?

Barbara Brown Taylor hits the nail on the head with the same struggle: “Perhaps there is no proof a famine exists except the fact that people are hungry. In the land of plenty, the sourse of that hunger can be difficult to diagnose. It is often not until we have tried to ease it with everything else we know that we discover by process of elimination our hunger for God.” 

I often do try to assuage my hunger with other things besides God.  Food helps for about a minute.  Shopping tends to make me feel good a little longer.  But the hunger always comes back.

Thankfully, like a magic bullet of pure light, Easter came this year with it’s warm, sunny weather and in-laws bringing me Easter brunch to eat after a long morning of services.  And now that Spring has (finally) arrived I’ve started to feel some fullness.  Maybe the weather is a coincidence- to be celebrated at the same time as the resurrection.  

I did a graveside service on Good Friday, which seemed most appropriate.  Jesus had been dying in front of me for all of Lent, this year, but I was reminded that, as we buried her, he never left my side.  

And then, as it always does, Easter came.  Jesus (finally) rose.  I was fed.  And I had this sense that that was all I needed.  Jesus- imagine that.  He was what I was hungry for.  I just had to die with him a bit to realize it.  Christ is risen, indeed.

the e-word

This is my most recent letter in the church newsletter.  It generated a little commotion... which means it actually got peoples' blood pumping! 

Here you go.

On the rare occasion my whole family is together we almost inevitably end up talking about church.  We’re a churchy family.  We are SO COOL in my family (note sarcasm, here).

The thing is, church isn’t cool anymore.  No one my age goes to church.  In fact, most people of most ages don’t go to church- it’s just not the thing to do.  Granted, most folks in this country believe in something, but you can get that thing in nature (apparently, I’m more of an indoor girl, myself).

But I’m not here to barrage you with woes about church  attendance.  I want to offer a few  ideas, though, on how to get your friends to church.  It’s called… wait for it… evangelism.  And the most important thing about evangelism is building relationships.

Like I said, though, church isn’t cool anymore.  And frankly, relationships are hard.  People spend all their time dealing with relationships elsewhere, and they’re sick of doing it come Sunday.  They deal with relationships in business, with family, friends, children, colleagues, and they don’t want to do more of it in a place that isn’t going to move them, change them, transform them.

So here’s our dilemma: no one’s coming to church because church isn’t cool, but, those of us who are here, who are not cool, are called to evangelize.  Evangelism, I think, is best done in relationships with others.  But, who wants to be friends with uncool people?

Here’s what I think: I think people are craving community- real, authentic community with folks who care about them, and show them the Gospel.  But, they don’t have time to figure us out.  They think we’re weird with our rituals, our stories and our judgmental stuff, and they can’t see past all that muckity muck to the heart of the Christian life.  People don’t and won’t know what we are all about and how wonderful it is unless we build relationships with them.

There are a few people in this church who are darn good at relationships.  They remember your name, they call you up and ask you to lunch, invite you to sit with them in church, they ask about your kids, and, they even do the follow-up work- they tell you how good it was to see you there the other week.  They make you feel welcome, even when you only get here once in a while.  And they do it in a supremely uncool way- they do it because they love Jesus, so they love you, so that you can love Jesus and begin to know and love this community.  It’s beautiful.  It’s church.

There are some downsides to this process, though.  As an uncool person, you can tend to feel rejection easily.  I get it, but trust me, it’s not personal.  People do get busy.  They won’t come to stuff.  But, I beg you, please don’t write these people off.  Show them some grace.  They’ll come around eventually.  Trust that God is working on them.

Evangelism through relationships is hard work.  But knowing that you were  responsible for showing them the beauty of being in community and finding Christ?  That’s reward enough right there. 

So, go out you uncool church people!  Go pursue those people on the margins- write them emails, Facebook them, call them, tell them you want to SEE them, and do it in Jesus’ name.  They’ll think you’re weird, but they’ll love you (and Jesus) for it in the end.

christmas letter

Well, friends, we’re finally doing a Christmas letter.  And while we are not going to grace your mailboxes with a paper card with pictures of us and our beloved dog, you can rest assured that a tree will be saved.  We’re going green over here- check us out on Facebook!

Where to begin?  The last few years have been absolute insanity.  We made the big move from Minneapolis to Indianapolis in 2009.  I spent two years as a pastoral resident at Second Presbyterian Church, and Ben received his Masters in Public and Environmental Affairs from Indiana University (60 miles each way, about 5 days week!).  We loved Indy and all the people from church and school who made it feel like home.  Plus, Butler made it a pretty exciting time to be a Hoo-Hoo-Hoosier!

In the Spring of 2011 we were faced with the big decision of where to go next.  It was truly daunting, but we were geographically open.  After interviewing and meeting with the people at Ladue Chapel Presbyterian Church in St. Louis (the Midwest!!) we felt like that was where God wanted us.  I was called to Ladue Chapel, and, after a few months of networking, Ben landed, first, a short term job at the Regional Chamber and Growth Association where he wrote a project called “Greenprint St. Louis”, and next, a position at Lockheed Martin in energy efficiency (if he was writing this letter, he MIGHT be able to explain what that means!). 

Ben and I are, miraculously, doing what we went to school for (!), and doing what we love.  Needless to say, we are very grateful.

The other big piece of news here is that we bought a house this spring.  It’s over one hundred years old in a historic neighborhood in University City.  We are minutes from Washington University, Forest Park, The Delmar Loop, the Central West End, and so much more.  Ben has been doing project after project, and I have been hitting up estate sales.  It’s fun. 

Life is pretty good these days, but if we had one thing to complain about it would be that we do miss family and friends.  We are constantly aware that the experiences we’re getting by living in different places are invaluable, but we miss getting together with people on the weekend, or seeing family without planning travel.  We miss y’all!

Despite all the change, transition, and distance, we have found a home here.  God is good.  We have dental insurance.  What more could you ask for? 

Our prayer always is and continues to be that God’s grace and peace will find you.  And, may you find joy in 2013!

With love,

Sarah (and Ben!)

listen, friends.

Advent is here, and it’s great- my favorite season in the church year. 

Last night we had our annual Watcher’s Eve event, which includes a casual worship service in the afternoon, bell-ringing, dinner, and a “Hanging of the Greens.”  It’s such a wonderful way to usher in Advent.  Watcher’s Eve, though, is loud and chaotic- it’s a family event and should be that way!  Kids are crafting and adults are chatting, and much merriment is made. 

I had a new member come up to me toward the end and tell me that she never really knew about Advent, before.  She has been Baptist her whole life until recently, and they didn’t observe Advent in her church.  She commented at how much she appreciated this event, to kick-off the in-between time of Advent, when we watch, and wait, and listen, anticipating the birth of Jesus.  She marveled at the tradition of it, and the significance it brought to her heart. 

Needless to say, I was elated.  Someone got it.  Someone NEW got it.  There IS joy and wonder in this season of hope.  Job well done, Sarah (ahem, I mean Holy Spirit).

I read an article in the New York Times recently about listening.  It’s a lost art, apparently, though I don’t think I needed the newspaper to tell me.  Listening makes up a large part of what I do, but I don’t think that’s true for a lot of professions (it doesn’t earn you the big bucks).  Nevertheless, it reminded me of Advent and what we’re supposed to be doing in this season, and other liturgical times of year (like Lent, Easter, Pentecost, etc.).  They’re helpful reminders to practice things that aren’t quite natural to us, in order to remind ourselves of what’s important- in this case it’s that Jesus came, and promises to come again.

At the end of the article the author writes this: “‘You never listen’ is not just the complaint of a problematic relationship, it has also become an epidemic in a world that is exchanging convenience for content, speed for meaning. The richness of life doesn’t lie in the loudness and the beat, but in the timbres and the variations that you can discern if you simply pay attention.”

It seems simple, but it’s true.  As a culture we’re not good listeners.  In Stephen Ministry we talk about how, when you’re actively trying to listen to someone, if you catch yourself thinking of a personal story that relates, you’ve already stopped listening.  Think about how often that happens.  Maybe the more interesting point isn’t that we can’t listen, but that we think too much about ourselves?

Anyway, this time of year always clues me into a different rhythm.  Through watching and waiting and listening, I’m reminded that it’s not all about me.  Like the author said, if you listen, you come to new realizations.  If you pay attention you give up the speed of life for something that could be much more meaningful. 

In John 18 Jesus says, “Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  It’s almost as if Jesus is saying (to Pilate, and to us) that you can’t just stop and listen here and there, at random.  To belong to truth you must practice it. 

Advent is a good reminder that to belong to the truth, to really hear Jesus, we must listen for his voice- wherever we are.  His words are a call, a commandment, and a prophecy.  He must have known where we would be some 2000 years later, deafened by the sounds of our divided attention during the craziness of this season.

So, I’d say this: start practicing this Advent.  Begin listening, even in the noisiest of places.  If you do, at some point, you’ll hear the truth, which is in Christ.  And, you’ll find yourself in the most beautiful of places- awake to the wonder and awe and anticipation of Advent.  Maybe it’ll even stick with you- MAYBE you’ll make it your New Year’s resolution (though, disclaimer: that is not a liturgical season). 

If it happens, make sure you tell me about it.  ’Cause dang, I think news like that could get me through this whole year. 

I’ll be waiting, and listening.  Amen.

happy?

I recently watched this documentary.  You can see the trailer here, the entire thing if you get netflix.

In this documentary called Happy, researchers make a case that you can, in fact, measure happiness much like you can diagnose depression.  The movie follows people from around the world and touches on a few main factors for "happiness".

Being that I'm in a job where I run into people all the time who are experiencing the happiest of happy days- like weddings- or, the saddest of sad days- like funerals- I was interested in what this filmmaker had to say.

The most fascinating things about the findings were probably the simplest, too.  Happy people practice what this researcher calls "flow".  Flow is usually exercise or something you do where you get in the grove and derive energy and satisfaction that is felt deeply.  It can probably be compared to a runner's high, or the peace one feels after practicing yoga.  I think it's also possible to achieve it from making art or writing- if that's what you love.  The movie makers spoke with a surfer, who had basically lived a very simple life in order to be able to surf everyday.  He loved it, and felt totally fulfilled.

Another thing the documentary described was proximity to family and/or close friends.  Those who had people around them who they trusted, and loved, were ultimately more happy.  I'm sorry to say that I live far away from family, and it does get to me sometimes- probably when I don't even realize it.  However, I think the researchers also described the importance of deep and meaningful relationships, which I believe I get to have in my job.  One woman, in particular, a Danish woman, who was recently divorced, moved herself and her children into a community living situation.  She described it as the best thing she had ever done- to live and commune, cook and share with a closely-knit network of people.

One more thing the movie said.  Happy people tend to love what they do, but they don't do it too much.    Hah.  I think this is probably the thing Americans get after the most- people in the United States confuse vocation with money and success, and it does not make them happy.  The documentary "confirmed" that this was the case, as well.  And, apparently, it's true in Japan, too.  They even have a word for it over there- karoushi- and it alludes to the idea of working so much for something you think you want, and it ultimately leads to death.  Yikes.

I suppose I knew most of this stuff already.  But, it was neat to see it from a worldwide perspective. People living in what we would consider to be absolute poverty, loving their lives more than I probably do on a daily basis.  But, it wasn't just this idea that material wealth does not bring happiness.  The movie focused on relationships- real, lasting, honest, authentic relationships.  And, I wonder if this is where I (or, the church?) can step into this world of UNhappiness.

On Sundays, all I have to do is look around at the children playing freely in classrooms, singing songs and being loved on by their teachers.  Children understand that at church relationships exists without boundaries- between them and everyone they encounter, young and old.  They get that, at church, they are free to be themselves, that it doesn't matter how big their house is, or how cool their backpack is.  At church, they know it doesn't matter what their parents do for a living- in fact, they enjoy sitting next to them in worship, and being around them during coffee hour.  Children also get to see happiness that is created by real things, filled with grace and truth- baptisms of babies, singing that is not performance-oriented, hugs between friends in the hallway, money being freely shared for mission.  And, our children sense the Spirit, they pick up on it, I know they do!  They pay attention and believe.

All this to say, I'm not sure the church is a place where happiness springs forth.  In fact, I've always been taught that happiness really isn't the goal- if there is a "goal" in this life, to speak of.  What we find in the community of faith, in the body of Christ, is joy.  We do joy around here.  Joy isn't happiness, friends.  Joy can be experienced in good times and in bad.  Joy comes from finding the peace of Christ that passes all understanding in the midst real of life- it's about noticing and sensing and feeling God's presence with you in gratitude, in thanksgiving, in sorrow, in fear, in anxiety, in... whatever.  Joy is deep, profound trust that God does not let us go, wherever we are, whatever we are doing.  And joy is knowing that there is a future for us- all of us.

Colossians 1:11-12
"We pray that you'll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul - not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives. It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us."

takin' care of me.

Fall is definitely here with chillier temperatures in the 50s!  You can smell the crispness in the air, leaves burning in piles, and chili bubbling in crockpots.  You can see the leaves changing (at least, they are just starting to here in St. Louis!), and the sunsets look just a bit more vibrant.  It’s a great time of year to get outside, pick a pumpkin or apple, bake a pie, and go shopping for a few fall essentials!  You know you want to…

I had a pretty busy week, last week.  I had an expected wedding rehearsal and wedding on Friday/Saturday, with a training dinner to host on Friday night.  But, I also had an unexpected funeral to plan for on Friday.  It was made more difficult because I didn’t know the man, though he was a prominent person in St. Louis- just a little more pressure, but that’s okay.  Those things on top of usual craziness made me ready to usher in Fall in smalls ways when I could find time for them. 

Little ways I’m finding “me” time:

I’ve decided to buy an inordinate number of pumpkin candles, because they are calming and make my office and home smell delightful.  I also invested in a fall plant to hang outside until I bring it in for the winter.  The florist assured me it would live.  She doesn’t know me, though, nor my history with plants.  Here’s hoping it lives because it’s got a beautiful leaf that’s green-striped on the top, and purple on the bottom!

I also decided to make my version of beef bourguignon this weekend.  It’s actually Ina Garten’s recipe, but I leave out the Cognac- tastes fine without it.  It’s way less complex than Julia Child’s recipe, and tastes divine!  Total crowd pleaser, but not diet food.  Here’s the link to the recipe: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/beef-bourguignon-recipe/index.html

I managed to clean my house, however it was in a bit of a manic panic, because I didn’t want to spend too much time cleaning this weekend… you can’t rationalize with crazy.  And, I also woke up early to squeeze in a run on Saturday morning around Lake Creve Coeur.  Probably the most beautiful morning run I’ve had in a while, and I didn’t even drink any water beforehand- I felt great though, and give credit to the non-fat latte I drank beforehand, instead!  The bagel afterward didn’t taste too bad, either.

Then, to top it all off, Saturday evening, we did have a fire in the backyard.  First one of the season.  It crackled and warmed us up, which was nice since I’ve become cheap in my old age and have refused to turn on the heat. 

All in all, it was an intense, yet wonderful few days around casa Hande/Brouwer.  And I think it’s because I decided to make it that way.  Earlier last week I was starting to let the fact that my day off had been overtaken by responsibilities consume me and make me angry.  I don’t like when I start to feel a taste of bitterness in my mouth about work, but it happens, sometimes.  At some point, though, this week, I realized I did have some little moments to enjoy ushering in the fall season.  And so, I took advantage of them.  I ran, cooked, bought plants and candles, and it reminded me of something really important.

Sometimes the line between what I do, and who I am can get really blurred.  I am a pastor, but being one doesn’t define me, nor does it (gasp!) totally satisfy me.  Yes, I get to share sacred moments with people, and share their most profound joys and pains (wonderful gifts!), but ultimately, it’s not who I am.  And I think most of us- not just pastors, but everybody- can get so wrapped up in what we do that we allow it to define us, our time, and our gifts… maybe we even allow what we do to limit our enjoyment of life, and of God, himself (herself). 

So, what did I do this weekend?  I practiced little moments of Sabbath.  Buying a candle can remind you of the light of Christ, cooking a meal can feed your stomach and your soul, and running can definitely give you time alone with your Creator. 

What’s more, though, is that I realized something.  I may BE a pastor.  But, I AM a child of God.  And this child of God needed some time to herself this weekend to be reminded of it.  Even though my job is such a privilege, and a true vocation in every sense of the word, it is, simply, what I do.  Who I am, though, is something much better.  I am known, loved, created, called on, restored, cleansed, comforted, and made whole by God.  I am a child of God, and, I’ll tell you what- you’re one too.  Don’t forget it, and don’t forget to make time to remember it (does that make sense?). 

Take to heart, these words from Isaiah 43:

“But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.”

Remember to make time for yourself, you little children of God.

september is a little goofy, i mean, Goosey.

Hi people.  It's good to be back after a week.  

Let me introduce you to the Wild Goose.

Did you know that, in Celtic Christianity (early Christianity in what is now Ireland and Great Britain), the Wild Goose was a symbol for the Holy Spirit?  Fascinating, I know.  Bear with me...

As boring as this may initially sound, let me tell you: I have a revelation in store for you; it might rock your world.  And it all popped into my head this week- in the midst of crazy, chaos-filled, September, back-to-school frustration!

The Celtic Christians (we think) considered the wild goose to be a symbol of the Holy Spirit, which is interesting (yes it is!) to us, because we often associate the Spirit with a dove, or something equally as peaceful.  But, the Celts were on to something with the use of this bird, because in days like these it's difficult to think the Spirit is anywhere to be found.  

Let me explain...

We've been going bonkers at church trying to get programming off the ground.  We plan things and either a bunch of people show up (wonderful!) or hardly anyone (major bummer!).  We're having a hard time knowing if we're asking too much of people, or not expecting enough.  We are also considering the fact that we might be offering too much, which is quite possible.  

In any case, as a staff, and as individuals who are trying to transition from summer to fall, and everything that goes with it, we've been feeling a little spiritually depleted.

The image of the Wild Goose brought to mind the geese that I see on a regular basis.  They're usually in some disgusting little batch of sewage water on the side of the road near a strip mall.  Their natural habitat used to be there, but now it's been overtaken by the busyness of consumerism and capitalism that surrounds it.  Just like the church, peoples' lives are so consumed by choices, and the ability to do other things, that the church has been pushed out of its natural habitat.  We're in the world, but not of it.  And, it's a weird and anxiety-ridden feeling, at times.  

But, none of the craziness is going to go away.  So, I thought: time to reframe.  Could it be that this chaotic time of year is, in fact, the work of the Wild Goosey Spirit?  Is the Spirit trying to tell us something new, push us around a bit, honk loudly at us, and tire us out as we attempt to fly in perfect formation for the upcoming program year?  Maybe it's okay to be in the muck on the side of the road because it teaches us something.

I'm learning that in order to find joy in this life, we have to embrace a Spirit like the Wild Goose. One that is unpredictable, loud, annoying, squawking, dirty, and lacks a place in the world.  I have to accept this kind of Spirit because, like the Wild Geese, we must fly together and help each other when we're tired in order to get to a better destination for the months ahead.  We must be open to re-formation, to let a new goose take the lead, to trust that the wind will carry us, that our wings will not fail us, and that we've done this a whole bunch of times before.  And, we have to become comfortable with the uncomfortable- our natural habitat is no longer.  The church is being being forced out.  And yet, seekers are still coming, if fewer in number.  And there is still a stirring among us to move- maybe we just have to fly up?

The Spirit is pushing me.  It's challenging me to be open to newness and change.  It's telling me to stop worrying about details and numbers, and focus on people who need a good word.  It's asking me to stop being upset at the little things, and to start enjoying this frenetic gift of a life.

Embrace the Wild, Goosey Spirit, friends.  It might be trying to tell you something.