Another Bagel

Darlings,

I said to myself yesterday, “Victoria, eating another bagel from Dunkin Donuts is not going to bring those children back.” But I did it anyway. And also four or five Christmas cookies. From a purely practical standpoint this is about as productive as rubbing my forehead against a brick wall until it bleeds, although doing that second thing would probably be less damaging to my overall health in the long run.

So goes the ongoing struggle not to abuse ourselves when “the world seems too much with us.” Here’s what acting out on addictions does: it gives us an opportunity to take the horror of the world’s brokenness onto ourselves so that we can say, “I am such a worthless piece of crap” instead of “Dear God, the world feels like such a crappy place today, I really don’t think I can handle it.”

You can get drunk. You can eat another bagel. You can ring up another huge purchase on put it on your credit card. You can hide in the bodies of strangers. Doing those things allows you to function like a sick little Jesus, taking on the sins of the world into your own body, being and bank account. “Look what a broken person I am!” you cry. “Look how much help I need, how scared I am, how alone I feel! Only booze/carbs/shopping/promiscuity/name-your-addiction-here can express the honesty of what I really am!”

Well, God knows who we really are, sweet babies. So maybe today we could just let that be enough, and decide that it doesn’t serve any real need to act out on our addictions because we’re in pain. The fact is, there is a great drama unfolding around us all the time. The drama that we feel wrapped in today is about small dead bodies being carried out of a school, and six larger bodies, and one other medium small body set apart alone, and people doubled over in grief and terror, sobbing and clinging to each other. A community shattered, and a nation in mourning.

But there is a larger drama than that — God’s drama –and we are all players in that grander plot. In that greater, grander drama, a beautiful soul called Jesus showed up in history and said, “Look, the point I’m going to make here with this short appearance is to show you that even though you are totally broken and the world IS a crappy place, it is also holy and you are each precious and beloved and equal. You’re going to even kill me — that’s how deeply twisted a species you all belong to — but EVEN THEN my Dad and I are going to come back with a super all-time HA HA IN YOUR FACE response about the power of love that should put to rest, for once and for all, your stupid ideas about what kind of power will prevail on Earth.”

The power of God’s love and grace will prevail on Earth. Today I’m going to act like I know that, because deep down I really do. I don’t doubt it one bit. And in the light of that faith, it just seems silly to weepily stuff carbohydrates in my face. The angels watch me and say, “Oh, there’s little Vicki again, doing that thing that she does when she wants an excuse to feel like crap about herself, like eating another bagel puts her into this deep solidarity with suffering humanity.” Then they sit around my kitchen table playing cards and looking over at me on occasion, rolling their eyes and smiling affectionately. “Oh look, there’s Miss Jesus of the Christmas Cookies, taking on the sin of the world with another coconut chocolate chip macaroon. Get her.”

Jesus got kind of sarcastic this morning with me while I was talking to him, and I said, “Wow, you’re almost never sarcastic. I’m not going to talk to you if you’re going to be sarcastic, because I feel really fragile right now and I don’t need a snarky Prince of Peace, especially not this time of year when I’m saying all these nice things about you.” And he said, “Oh, well definitely go eat a bunch of bagels today so you can help me do my job,” and he winked and gave me a fierce crazy gentle smile and I said, “Shut up. Now I’m going to be filled with unaccountable joy all day, dammit, Jesus” And he smiled and wiggled both of his eyebrows at me, and that was the last I’ve seen of him today but I don’t feel like eating bagels or cookies at all.

And I have been filled with unaccountable joy.

Fat Does Not “Hinder Communication:” It Simply Communicates

From Betsy Turner via Twitter, from Haddon Robinson’s Biblical Preaching, p. 206. Click on the image to enlarge.

Compulsive over-eating is not about self-control. It is about addiction, unmet need, grief, anger, internalized misogyny, repression, loneliness, sexual frustration… care to contribute to the list?

Being fat in the pulpit does not hinder communication. It communicates fat. It communicates a human body. It communicates something about who we are and how we live and what we struggle with. Some parishioners will see a human being in the pulpit, some will see a fat human being. Part of our job is to help those in our spiritual care to become more conscious of their attitudes toward human bodies of all kinds, including their own. Part of our job as preachers is to cultivate mercy, compassion and understanding between all God’s incarnate children and all of creation. To suggest that fat is a moral failure is a very old-school, limited and limiting, non-productive and psychologically and spiritually shallow teaching. His theology there is about an inch deep.

Time to update the preaching text.

The Evil ‘Bucks Empire

Oh my GOD, I don’t even want to WRITE about this because it just gives the Starbucks Evil Empire free advertising, but I gotta:

I’m addicted to Starbucks Refreshers.

They’re obscenely expensive. They’re STARBUCKS (whose coffee I also love — so sue me!). But they’re delicious and not very high in sugar (13g for the canned kind) or calories (60 per can) and when I don’t have time for proper afternoon tea they provide a lovely little caffeine kick. They’re made of green coffee extract, which means nothing to me except, “Hey, more caffeine! Caffeine GOOD.”

I love the strawberry kiwi, and the pomegranate and especially the hibiscus flavor you get from the Starbucks drive-through or cafe.

I’m not eating ice cream, cake, cookies, white flour (except for bread occasionally, and a tiny bit of pasta in soups), or pie any more. I don’t want them and I don’t miss them. If I want a dessert–type experience I slather some PB + J on a rice cracker, or eat a few squares of dark chocolate.

So Starbucks Refreshers is my big indulgence lately and I love them. I don’t drink Diet Coke anymore because the fake sweetener makes my hands ache, so this is my only carbonated beverage.

I don’t know why I feel the need to be all apologetic and act like I’m committing some sort of crime recommending these to you! You’re grown-ups, you can enjoy them or ignore them!

But I love ’em. And suddenly I realize that I may already have told you this. If that’s the case, I’m sorry and no, I am not on Starbucks’ payroll.

Quitting Splenda

Hello, darlings!

We’ve been having a lot of damp, chilly weather here in the Boston area and PeaceBang’s old bones are creakin’. However, her old bones have been creaking a lot less since she quit using Splenda a week to ten days ago.

True story: My knees were aching so badly at night I was having trouble falling asleep, and who wants to pop Advil constantly? Not me. Advil may be OTC but it has serious side effects and I don’t want to take it every day.

I posted about my arthritic pain and stiff, almost-paralyzed morning fingers on my PB Facebook page and readers responded with all sorts of wonderful advice. One sweet woman sent me a beautiful rice pack that’s like a muff. You warm it in the microwave and tuck your hands inside, softly squeezing the rice to get your circulation going. Others suggested Shaklee supplements. A few people urged me to try glucosamine-chondroitin and since I had a bottle in the house I started that right away. And someone suggested that Splenda might be the culprit.

I had been consuming 2-4 packets of Splenda per day in coffee and tea, and sometimes some in the form of Diet Coke. I always have liquid stevia at home, but Splenda was my go-to sweetener for beverages consumed away from home.

I decided to eliminate Splenda – easy enough — and within less than a week I was feeling 90% better. I no longer have stiff hands and fingers in the morning and falling asleep is mostly a breeze now.

If this helps you or someone you know I’d be very pleased. I use Truvia now. It’s expensive but feeling good is invaluable.

What Makes a Healthy Pastor: A Response to Mr. Stephen McCutchan

Oh, my. I got a letter from a Presbyterian pigeon today. She writes,

Hi! I’ve been a reader of your blog for many years. I came across an article today that I thought you’d like to see. It is entitled, “Loving the Pastor Who Loves You,” but it seems that it is anything but loving. I’d be interested to hear what you think.

This well-meaning article is so… well-meaning.

Here’s what I think, Elizabeth, and thank you for sending me this article.

The author, Stephen McCutchan, points to research that reveals the obvious to any of us who go to clergy gatherings on a regular basis: we’re fat, and we don’t take care of ourselves. This is a spiritual issue, a health issue, and a community issue.

The author has an idea he’s really enthusiastic about. He suggests that deacons or church leaders get together and subtly try to address their pastor’s weight problem by bringing up the question of health in a broader way at a meeting, praying about it, and then having everyone in the community make really specific commitments around health and wellness.

He writes,

Let’s say that you recognize your pastor is gaining too much weight. How do you raise the question of your concern without feeling you are invading his or her personal space?

I want to suggest one approach that any congregation can take. It would be to broaden the conversation so that it includes not only the pastor but others as well. Recognizing that the lay members of a church’s governing board are also part of the spiritual leadership of the congregation, one begins by having a health conversation with the whole board.

According to a trusted naturopath at Kurated it is important to set aside some time on the agenda to reflect on the health challenges facing the congregation as a whole. Beginning broadly lessens the threat of such a conversation. Pose the question, What factors in our lives threaten good health? Begin by asking all the individuals to talk about the general challenges facing members regarding the health within the congregation. Make a list as each factor is identified. For example, people are overweight, some don’t exercise enough, they don’t get enough sleep, they drink too much, etc. The conversation alone raises the consciousness of the subject.
Next, reflect on the faith issues that speak to the care of our bodies. Explore the connection between our religious journey and our health journey. What is it in our faith that speaks to the care of our bodies? Develop a brief liturgical confession with respect to the connection between physical health and faithfulness. There are several ways this can be used later in the process.

Then pass out some blank 4-by-6 cards. Tell all the members (including pastors and other staff present) that you are going to have a time of silent prayer in which each is asked to reflect on and identify a specific action that they think if done regularly would contribute to improvement of their personal health. At the end of the prayer time, they are to write down on both halves of the card the action they identified, without placing their names on the cards. They then tear the card in half, keeping one half and turning the other in.

The cards are compiled into a list to be shared at the next meeting.

What a wacky upside down feeling to get to a deacon’s meeting and find it transformed into a local chapter of Weight Watchers! And all because one person didn’t have the courage to take a meeting with his pastor and say something like, “Hey, Reverend, I know this is a really personal thing to talk to you about but I have noticed your weight gain. First of all, I want you to know that I don’t judge you. I know you are giving your heart and soul to caring for this congregation and I just want you to know I treasure you. But I want to say two things. First of all, if there’s anything we as a congregation can do to free up some of your time to pursue health for yourself, please let us know. I want to be your ally in this if you want one. Second, I would really appreciate it if you might plan some sermons around the connection between body and spirit. It’s a topic of interest to me and I would love to hear your take on it.”

McCutchan is totally misguided about the appropriate way to raise the issue of health in the congregation — one doesn’t institute a program of exercise and weight loss under the guise of general church leadership, and especially not for such transparently manipulative reasons as to encourage the pastor to lose weight. Reading his suggestions as a female pastor, I found them to be not only inappropriate, controlling and dishonest but also paternalistic.

But McCutchan generally has the right idea: we should be integrated beings who take care of ourselves body and soul. The pastor can set an example and it is sad that so many of us set a poor example for self-care. I think it is high time that the Church as a whole started to break the silence around pastoral health. They just shouldn’t do it in the manipulative and distorted manner that McCutchan outlines. If congregations want to encourage their pastors to take good care of themselves, they will grant them the freedom to get out out of the church building, spend some time every day in healthy and life-giving activity. They will check in with their minister to inquire if he or she is taking a regular day off, and generally cheerleading for their pastor’s ability to lead a balanced and healthy lifestyle.

I belong to the same health club as many of my parishioners and I have never, ever been given the side-eye when any of them spot me on the elliptical machine. In fact, I get a thumbs up. I know many clergy who feel like they have to sneak around to their health clubs lest they be seen by their flock. Hello? No parishoner in my church has expressed resentment when I take a vacation (if they have, I haven’t heard about it, and that’s part of protecting the pastor’s health, too — shielding them from undue nastiness), and no one has ever raised an eyebrow if they see me at Whole Foods buying the more expensive, organic produce. My community knows that I struggle with my weight. I have spoken freely about it both in community and very occasionally from the pulpit (not in any depth, as I loathe that sort of “chick sermon” — I once heard a woman preach about her diet and I almost stormed out of the church).

But health is not just about how fat or slim one is. I have been in much more danger of dying of loneliness, isolation and depression at times in my ministry than I have ever been from high blood pressure or clogged arteries. When I lived in Maryland and went for several years without being touched or noticed outside of my church community, that was far more damaging to my ability to function with energy and vigor on behalf of the Church than being fat could ever be. When I served a congregation in Pennsylvania right out of seminary and regularly spent 12-hours a day addressing the needs of the church, I worked out 4-5 times a week. Sure, I was in okay physical health but I was torn up inside by church conflict, achingly lonely, and worried every day about paying my bills. The anxiety, misery and fear I lived with did much more to deterioriate my health than carrying extra pounds.

Today, I am fat, feisty, active, energized, well-loved, regularly snuggled, a great cook, surrounded by friends and the same weight on the scale I was 12 years ago. However, I feel a good decade younger than I did back then. I sleep better, I love life, my spiritual practice is deep and sustaining, I look forward to every day, I laugh a lot and I am grateful for every new morning. My digestion is better, my mental health is stable and has been for years, I have some creaks and take some pills every day, but I have more passion, drive and joy in the ministry than I ever imagined was possible during those first painful years.

That’s what serving a healthy congregation can do for a pastor. Working with supportive, smart, committed church leaders and an interesting, appreciative, generous and celebration-oriented congregation is the best health benefit any pastor could receive. You heard it here.

If Stephen McCutchan and other caring religious people want to help their pastors be as healthy as they can possibly be, they should not add weight loss or getting in shape or “getting healthy” to the already-endless list of items on the pastor’s to-do list, and especially not to institute such a program by deceitful means. Rather, they should strive to create a congregational environment that cultivates joy, energy, gratitude, forgiveness, and healthy expectations between parish and pastor.

Oh, and P.S.? Your pastor is well aware of his or her weight gain and sure as heck doesn’t need you to guide him or her to awareness. We have these things called pants. When they don’t button we’re mostly pretty clear that our butts and guts are getting bigger.