Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Welcome to the Mess

This past Sunday I was installed as the Minister for Youth and Outreach at St. John's Lutheran Church in Salisbury.  Moving into a new season of ministry was not an easy decision for me, but the possibility of the new season outweighs my fears. And so I was installed.  The service was beautiful and included a soloist, string quartet and lots of prayers! 


Pastor Rhodes shared in the sermon that God's story begins in the chaos and issued the invitation, "Welcome to the Mess."  You can listen to the sermon here.


Here are some pictures from the festivities. I will have more soon! 
The reception was amazing and included lots of sweets--including my favorite Red Velvet  Cupcakes. 

My parents were able to come and visit from Ohio. It was so special to share this day with them. 

Pastor Jan and Pastor Rhodes serve at St. John's. I am excited to partner with them in ministry. 


A huge thanks to Cam and Kat for celebrating with me too!  

Saturday, March 3, 2012

My New Home

Well, I have settled into my new home in Salisbury, NC.  It is funny that I have moved to Salisbury and am having a taste of urban living.  I have rented a loft in downtown.  I am a mere two blocks from the office and have enjoyed walking to work.  There are plenty of shops, restaurants and two theaters that I can walk to and enjoy.  


A huge thanks for Cam, James, Scott, Christina, Ann, Rhodes, Krista, Carter, Matthew and Anna for helping move all my stuff into my new place.  Upon arriving Cameron's first reaction was, "Danielle, you aren't cool enough for this place."  I admit that the place is cooler than me, but I am hoping I will grow into it!  


Here are  few pictures of my new place.  (Mom, sorry! I didn't clean up before I took the pictures). 


My room.  The only downfall is that it is only a block from the train tracks.  Who knew the Amtrak was so loud!  

Do you see my giant windows? 

Yes. I know the curtains are two short but every doorway so so tall.  One of my porches is off the eating area. 

The kitchen 
The exposed duct work on my 12ft. ceilings


My place also has two porches.  There isn't a pretty view (mainly building tops) but it is so nice to sit outside and enjoy a cup of tea.  

The Goodbye

I think I laughed the whole time! 
I could not have asked for a better goodbye.  


My CTK was so faithful in celebrating and reflecting with me over the last six and half years of ministry together.  The night was a perfect combination of laughter, prayer and thanksgiving.  Many thanks to Scott, Peggy and Mark for making it all happen!  And to Chris for cooking my favorite meal--which included lima beans!  




Bill certainly entertained the crowd with his quoting Whitney Houston and story about hearing There is a Balm in Gilead during my sermon.  


Richard stole the night by ending his speech with, "I am going to end the way any civil engineer would...with a poem.  What?  You don't think civil engineers can write poetry?"  Richard did write a poem that captured all the ministry I have been involved in the last few years.  

Scott is simply the best.  He did however share some secrets--like the time I broke the chair at the movies.  I was so moved by his comments about how I have continually reminded this community that they are children of God. 



When given the opportunity to share, words seem to pale in comparison to what is my heart.  Yet, this is what I want everyone in my CTK family to know:  


I can remember the first time I put on a pastoral collar.  I was in the bathroom of Cokesbury bookstore trying on the black shirt with the white collar tab.  I laughed, trembled a bit and took it off quickly.  I wasn’t sure that the reflection looking back at me fit. 

And so began my journey as Vicar K.  I am daily thankful for the opportunity to have served as an intern at Christ the King.  While many of my peers where glorified youth ministers in their internships, you trusted me with much more.  You trusted me with youth bible study, with preaching, with pastoral care, and teaching.  I was able to “try on” the collar while at the same time explore diaconal ministry. 

Soon I would trade the collar for a basin and towel finding my place in the ELCA as a consecrated diaconal minister.  I will never forget having my feet washed and being given this charge, “serve the needy, care for the sick, comfort the distressed, and, through words and actions, witness faithfully to God's love for all people. Cross every barrier that stands between the church and its ministry in the world. Seek out those places where the gospel of Jesus Christ meets the world's need. Empower, equip, and support all the baptized in the ministry of Jesus Christ. Lead us all in proclaiming the gospel in witness and service. And be of good courage, for God has called you, and your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” By God’s grace and through your love and support this is a charge I am striving to embody. 

Early in my ministry you gave me the greatest gift—the freedom to discover me, to discover my gifts and where the God might use them for God’s glory.  It is in your midst I found me.

I knew my time as vicar wouldn’t last forever and was overfilled with joy as an offer to join the staff full-time was made.  I looked forward to my first “real” job with excitement and a healthy dose of idealism. 

And then cancer came.  I am not sure what is worse, being told you have cancer at 25 or having to call your parents and tell them.  I remember it so clearly.  I left the doctor’s office knowing that my world have changed but having no idea what that change would mean for me or my calling.  I drove to Starbucks (Yes, Chai Lattes soothe the soul) and read through the book of Jonah.  The story of this runaway prophet spoke to the depths of my soul and assured me, “You can’t run from God.  Cancer doesn’t have the power to destroy God’s rare, relentless grace.” 

And then I came to church.  It was Ash Wednesday.  A sobering day to discover you have cancer.  We are dust and to dust we will return. 

Within ten days I had gone from hearing I had cancer to surgery and recovery.  I have shared many times that I couldn’t pray during that time.  In fact, it was probably months before I was really able to pray.  It may have been anger, shock or despair, likely a combination of all three but I couldn’t pray.  

During this time, I believe with all my heart, you sat Shiva with me.  In the Jewish tradition, after a death, the community comes and says prayers with the grieving.  The grieving isn’t forced to pray the words.  They are merely reminded by their community and their voices that they are not alone.  One day, when the grieving is ready, their voices will join those of their faithful community and rejoicing will return. 

When I couldn’t pray, I know that you prayed for me.  When I couldn’t rejoice, you rejoiced for me.  And you never left me.  You loved me with calls and cards and episodes of the Carol Burnett Show.  I couldn’t speak the words early on. I wasn’t ready, but you stood in the gap, sat shiva with me.  And after four months, I rejoiced with you.  I joined your prayers and was restored. 

I think this is the season I fell in love with Christ the King. 

Yet the thing that makes me most proud of this community and the ministry we have shared at Christ the King has been your willingness to partner in mission.  Over our six and a half years together, I have seen the conversations move beyond merely talking about loving our neighbor to putting our faith in action.  You have fed the hungry, you have clothed the naked, you have welcomed the stranger, you have struggled for justice and sought to make peace in broken places. 

Nowhere has this been more clear than in our ministry with Chile.  I remember so clearly when Francis, a worker in the school, said, “You came as strangers and now you are our friends.”  And with the bishop of the Lutheran Church in Chile (IELCH) when asked what we could do for them replied, “Continue to bring people.  When they come they realize that we aren’t statistics or the other but children of God.”  These beautiful children of God have captured our hearts in significant and life-giving ways.  To the teams I have traveled with, I am inspired by your courage, your risk-taking and your selfless love.  And CTK family, even if you haven’t traveled with us, you have welcomed the Chilean people into our lives here.  You have heard their stories firsthand from our missionary, Karen Anderson.  You have seen their faces every time you walked into Nagle Narthex.  You have prayed, donated, followed along on the journey.  My hope is that the Chilean people will always hold a place in this congregation’s heart. 

After six and half years of life-giving partnership in ministry, of finding me, of being buoyed during cancer, and joined in justice work, a new season for me begins.   Saying goodbye is certainly tinged with sadness, but also hope and anticipation, for both us.  I am looking forward to hearing the stories of how God is pushing you to become the congregation God is calling you to be.  And to see what the next season holds for me.  Wherever I find myself on my journey, know that you have forever shaped my heart and God’s ministry through me. 

Thank you.  

God's Love and Mine, 
Danielle Kathryn 



My Final Sermon

As I packed up my office my last week at Christ the King, I found my very first sermon I preached. Shocker. It was on the Old Testament.  And my final sermon was no different.  I love the Old Testament and loved that I was a part of a faith community that welcomed these ancient stories and allowed them to shape our lives.  



It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye
When I was in fifth grade, a boy named Andy, stood on the stage of our elementary school auditorium and sang the Boys II Men classic, Its So Hard to Say Goodbye.  It seemed so poignant as we were about to leave the safety of elementary school for the complicated, hormone-infused, and dramatic halls of middle school.  The goodbyes didn’t stop there.  There were goodbyes at our HS graduation, from summer camp, from college.  Our stories are littered with goodbyes.  Some goodbyes are welcomed, some are painful, some goodbyes are too soon and others seem to be in perfect time. 

On this Sunday, on which I say my goodbyes to you, our Old Testament lesson recounts a poignant goodbye as well.  I swear I didn’t pick this lesson.  I admit that if left up to my own devices, I would have probably chosen an easier passage, one that didn’t name the goodbye so clearly.  Yet, the ironic Spirit of God had different plans.  And today, we enter into goodbye, not only for us, but for Elijah and Elisha. 

Elijah had a storied history in Israel, marked by the swing from great highs to hiding in caves fighting off depression.  Along the way Elijah recruits Elisha as his successor.  Elisha becomes student, friend, servant, sidekick.   Regardless of the journeys that proceeded this morning’s text, today’s journey is different.  It is laced with the reality of goodbye.  And Elisha seems the only one unwilling to name it.

Elijah mentions three times, “I am only supposed to go this far.” 

The prophetic community remarks three times, “You know your master is leaving you.” 

And with each remark Elisha responds the same, “Shh. We are not talking about this.” 

Although he is a prophet, a well-respected religious leader, a spokesperson for God, he is so much like you and I.  He is more comfortable avoiding goodbye, focused on the hole that is left, wondering where God is in all of this. 

This story isn’t only Elisha’s story.  It is Peter’s story too.  Remember the conversation around the dinner table at the Passover meal.  Jesus, much like Elijah, says, “I am only going this far.  This is the end.”  And Peter, much like Elisha, answers with a bold and naïve, “No. I will never leave you.”  “Shh…We’re not talking about this. “

Although on Elisha’s journey, he could only find the words, “Keep Silent.”  Elijah knew that the silence would not bring about the work of God.  And so Elijah and Elisha journey.   It is the same journey that Moses made.  The same trek that Joshua made before entering the Promised Land.  A journey that takes them through the anointed place known as Bethel, the site of the great battle in Jericho and then ultimately to the waters.  And like Moses, Elijah parts the seas.  And on dry ground they walked to the other side of the Jordan.  

Having walked through a miracle itself, Elijah asks his student “What can I do for you?” 

Rev. Martin Copenhaver muses, “Elisha must have been tossed into a whirlwind of possible responses:’ What do I need?  I need to know how I can carry on.  I need to know how I can be a prophet, when everything I know I learned from you and you are about to leave.  I need to know how to be a leader, because all I know is how to follow.  I need to know what to say when people turn to listen to the prophet of the Lord, and they mean me! I need you to stay.’  What Elisha ends up saying is ‘Please leave me a double dose of your spirit.’ Elisha assumes that he is half the man Elijah is and that he will need twice his master’s spirit just to break even.”

Rev. Sam Well, former Dean of Duke Chapel, writes of Elisha adds, “There isn’t a large vocabulary for such goodbyes. And Elisha isn’t just facing the loss of Elijah.  He’s facing the inheritance.”  Elijah's leaving would mean something new for Elisha.  Yet, Elijah knows something that Elisha lacks.  Elijah knows that God moves through goodbyes to empower a new generation in ministry.  Elisha is looking back and wondering, “how can it possibly get better?”  Elijah is looking ahead knowing that the best days are yet to come. 

It is no different with the disciples.  Jesus, Peter, Andrew and John climb a mountain together today.  The experience a miraculous encounter with resurrection and the voice of God.  As many have called it, it is a mountaintop experience.  One of the moments you find yourself longing to return.  As Jesus hung on the cross and disciples were scattered and locked away in fear, I can’t help but wonder if they said, “Now what.  How could it possibly get better than the mountain?”  And Jesus is looking ahead and knowing that the best days are yet to come. 

Back in the early years of email, when everyone had an AOL address, I used to receive lots of inspirational stories and email forwards and this week I kept thinking about an email that was circulating about forks.  

A woman was diagnosed with a terminal illness and given three months to live. She asked her Pastor to come to her home to discuss her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at her funeral, and what scriptures she wanted read, and which outfit she wanted to be buried in. Then she said, “One more thing… I want to be buried with a fork in my hand.” The pastor was surprised.

The woman explained, “In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably say to everyone, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite time of the dinner, because I knew something better was coming, like velvety chocolate cake or deep dish apple pie – something wonderful. So, I want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and wonder, “What’s with the fork?” Then, I want you to tell them, “Keep your fork, because the best is yet to come.”

The pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he bid the woman goodbye. He realized she had a better grasp of heaven than he did, and knew something better was coming. At the funeral, when people asked him why she was holding a fork, the pastor told them of the conversation he had with the woman before she died. He said he could not stop thinking about the fork, and knew they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. He was right.“Keep Your Fork.  The best is yet to come.”

That is what transfiguration Sunday is all about.  It is a glimpse to this weary world that the best is yet to come.  Elisha disappears in a whirlwind and gives his mantle to another, who will speak, lead and be apart of new life in Israel.   Jesus takes the disciples up the mountain to give them a glimpse of the overwhelming glory of God.  A reminder that the painful goodbye of the cross paved way to the never ending welcome of heaven. 

So, God’s beloved children, if we are going to say goodbye to anything.  Let it be to the ordinary.  Let us say goodbye to our need to be in control.  Goodbye to our ingrained thought that the past was better.  And let us hope and live as if the best is yet to come. 

Live like there's no tomorrow.  Love extravagantly.  Lead a life to be followed.  Oh and keep your forks.  

God's Love and Mine, 
Danielle Kathryn 

Jonah Day

When I moved to Durham in August of 2005, I was quickly introduced to a family that would become, in many ways, my second family.  I was able to babysit Kayla from her first year of life until now.  I was able to watch Preston as a baby and now see him grow into an energetic young boy.  

My last night of babysitting for this family was bittersweet--although not the end.  The evening will forever be dubbed in my heart as Jonah Day!  You see, I arrived and Kayla said, "I am going to have friends over to do a Jonah play. Mom said you might have an idea on how to make a whale."  Sure. Thinking it was simply going to be a blue construction paper puppet.  No.  Kayla continued, "We have to be able to fit inside it."  Seriously? I know why your  mom said I would have an idea...she didn't want to do this! 

So we gathered up some supplies and started to make the teeth.  At one point Kayla said, "I hope this works. We have used a lot of mom's party supplies!"  Although the whale looks like Cookie Monster, they were so excited with the outcome.  They practiced getting inside.  After some acting out the story, the kids put on their "sea creature" pajamas, we snuggled in bed and read the Jonah Story.  Kayla marked, "Jonah Day" on her calendar.  Nothing quite the joy of homemade crafts, exuberant smiles and a full heart.  

Tada! 


Oh now!  The whale is eating my hand! 


God's Love and Mine, 
danielle kathryn