A Day in the Life of a Part-Time Call

NaBloPoMo Day 9: Monday day off or Friday day off... Discuss.
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When I worked full-time at a parish, I tried each one. I figured out really quick that I can honor a Monday off much better than I can honor a Friday off. I believe my seminary training may have had a small part in this: there were no Monday classes in seminary at Perkins in Dallas, so I was formed to take Mondays off in some way. In seminary, I usually had some reading, writing, etc to do on Mondays, but I did not have to leave my house those days. It may not have been a true day off, but it was different than the other days. 

In the parish, Mondays worked better for me because the deadline for just about everything is the next Sunday. On Monday, I can forget all that needs to be done that week and relax into a day off. On Fridays, I could never ignore what was still undone and I would end up working on Fridays in small ways. 

Now I am in a part-time call, which sometimes feels like it is part of every day. I have more time off, but there seems to be just a little something all the time. My newsletter editor likes my submission every Monday about what is happening that weekend. It only takes me about 10 minutes and then I have the rest of the day to putter around. Tuesdays are really a better, more complete, day off for me now most weeks. If diocesan meetings fall on Tuesdays, then I take Fridays off instead. I have gotten better about honoring a Friday off by either getting work done before then, or doing whatever it is on Saturday. 

A Witch at Church

Julia's writing prompt today: It's NaBloPoMo day 2!

Prompt: write about what you wear at church (your best clothes, your comfy clothes, robe, stole, etc.). What does the phrase "church clothes" look like in your world?

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This last weekend included All Hallows' Evening - which has been shortened to Hallowe'en on most secular calendars. It is an ancient Christian holiday, appropriated from a Celtic celebration (more info here). A lot of Christian holidays have appropriated the holy days of other religions, as any scholar of world religions can trace. I believe those days have been appropriated because someone somewhere realized that there are rhythms to life that cannot be denied. On the dark days of the transition between seasons, maybe people needed a reason to gather and have fun.

All Hallows' Eve gives Christians a chance to poke fun at death and darkness, knowing that God through Christ is the Eternal Light that no darkness can overcome. We seriously believe what Paul said about no darkness being able to come between us and the love of God. We seriously believe what John of Patmos teaches us in Revelation about God being the ultimate winner of any universal contest between dark and light. We act silly and playful, dress in costumes, trick or treat, and generally revel in God's victory and steadfastness. We get to hear readings that are nowhere else in our regular Sunday lectionary: the Witch of Endor, Eliphaz the Temanite, the battle between the dragon and the angels; it's all fantastical. 

I think we look like Twins!

As an almost 50-yr old American woman, I do not mind the insinuation that I am dressed as my true nature in this picture. When I don a witch costume, I am trying to don the feminine mantle of Professor Minerva McGonagall, Mrs Molly Weasley, or even one of the unfortunate women chronicled in Kepler's Witch. Kepler's Witch tells the story of Christians convicting women of witchcraft merely because they were smart enough to notice the rhythms of life, remember which herbs and plants cured which symptoms, and maybe were bit more enlightened than others in a pre-enlightenment era. There is much discussion among middle-aged American women about embracing our inner Crone as we grow older and wiser - as we grow into being a witch by Kepler's definition.

As an Episcopal priest, I know that there are people who call me a witch in undertone, meaning it to be a derogatory utterance. When I don a witch's hat and cape, I am claiming the title in order to take away it's power to place me in a powerless position, as the Imp advised the Bastard to do in one of the Game of Throne books (I cannot remember if it was when Jon Snow was just leaving for the Wall or when Tyrion Lannister visited him at the Wall). A religious woman with strong convictions certainly fits the definition of a witch to a lot of people who have a tough time separating faith from magic and prayers from wishes. 

I do believe there is some criticism that could truly be leveled at my costume choice: Paul tells us not to eat the meat offered to idols if it causes our less mature members to stumble. In a society of people who do sometimes have a hard time separating faith from magic and prayers from wishes, maybe it is dangerous to dress as a witch wearing a priest collar. Also, just as it is inappropriate for me as a white woman to make up in black face, I should not dress as a practitioner of Wiccan when I am clearly not Wiccan. [Aside: all of the Wiccan practitioners I see in movies and TV dress like me on any day I am not wearing clericals. That gives me a giggle.]

Thank you for the prompt Julia! Reflecting on my choice of church clothes this last weekend was enlightening to me. 

Wed Fest: Headers of RGBP

This is my favorite photo of the headers on the RevGalBlogPal site.  There were soooo many contenders!  I loved the three backs of heads on the back patio of one of the BE events, all of the beloved faces listening to Carol Howard Merritt, Mary Thorpe blessing a pet, and the one of Liz dressed as an elf (I really want to know the back story to that one!).  This one wins for me though.

Why?  I have met Wil in person a couple of times, and I love reading her blog, fb posts and tweets.  That's not it though.  What I really love about this photo is her sense of presence in that space.  She is THERE - fully - a real pastoral and authoritative presence.  I aspire to this sort of presence on my best days - some days I can do it, other days, *ahem.*  This is a beautiful picture on many different levels, most of all because of Wil being Wil - Dr. Gafney, to us mere mortals.  She is awesome.

RevGals and GalShip

I began blogging on March 10, 2007.  I wrote 405 posts on that anonymous blog from 2007 until 2011.   The reason I even started blogging was to join RevGals.  Before I began blogging, Mary Beth at Terrapin Station had mentioned me in a blog post and sent me a link. I had seen a couple of blogs before that, but had never considered that a community could be built around people's blogs.  Once MB introduced me to the ring, I got seriously hooked on keeping up with what was going on in my friend's lives - people I had never met but felt like I knew.  I witnessed a horrible murder, a heart-wrenching divorce, incredible joys and exquisite experiences through my new ring of friends.

During that time period, my blog was one of the very few places I could check in with others from the church outside of my own region. I was in a BAD place - geographically and professionally as I went through seminary.  The women of RGBP became my window of sanity and hope for what could be that I dreamed of, as I lived the craziness of what was.

My first in the flesh meet up (besides Mary Beth who I knew in real life) was at the Festival of Homiletics in Nashville, 2007.  It was a like a Spy meet-up - back then most of us were anonymous bloggers, so we each had an alias.  I got to meet Inner Dorothy, St Casserole, 1-4 Grace, Rev Kim, Moose Poop on the Lawn, and Cheesehead.  It was weird and fun and fabulous all at the same time.

By the time the first BE was planned, I was in a really bad place mentally.  I was at the end of seminary with no hope of being ordained in my part of the world.  I almost didn't go - even right up until the morning of the cruise.  I felt like a trespasser and an impostor for even wanting to join in.  That BE gave me hope - gave me a sense of a bigger calling, gave me friends I knew I could confide in and cry
with.  Kate and Kathryn were angels in human skin.  Walking away with hope is an immeasurable gift.  Dancing with Nell and Amy, laughing so hard tears ran down my cheeks, pranks on S-L, chia tattoos, priceless memories.  I won't say it saved my life, but it very well may have saved my calling.

On a later BE, within the first hour, Liz told my whole story back to me.  I had never ever met her before - and I still get goosebumps thinking about what a Holy Moment that was for me.

Now I am lucky enough to have RGBP meet-ups quite often.  There are several of us in the Dallas-Fort Worth area and there are many who come here.  Julie even has stayed with me.  I love my RevGal moments.  Galship is a priority in my life - even with the four busy teens in the house and my two busy jobs.  I don't blog as much as I once did - I don't need it in the same way.  FB meets most of those needs to check in on friends now.  I visit the Tuesday Lectionary Leanings and the Preaching Party just about every week though.  I post the Wednesday Festival the first of each month.  I value the time I put into RGBP and look for more ways to be involved.  I am a proud RevGal.