Start Your Day Off Right

Man, we know how to spice things up at Luther.

I spent a solid five minutes deciding what breakfast sandwich to get in the dining hall this morning. I know I'm a ham, swiss and egg girl, but now they're all named after ELCA seminaries and I was convinced that my predictable choice of a "Luther" had a deeper meaning.

And they do, mind you. It seems the PLTS doesn't contain any meat, so that was out of the question. And is there something especially southern about pepperjack cheese? Hmm.

I might have to try them all and make sure I made the right decision to attend Luther...

Which breakfast sandwich are you?

Copperplate font must be stopped

It's been an arduous couple of weeks since last I blogged. There has been a lot of reading for my courses, even though I only have four of them this semester. There was also an edition of the Concord to put together last week and a sermon/presentation on the Apostles' Creed that I gave at my Teaching Parish on Wednesday night. And it has been so ridiculously cold—my car wouldn't start after my night class on Tuesday, and I only got it going with the help of my buddy, Matt. (I am at least thankful, with condolences to Meta, that my car did finally start.) But that's not the half of it.

Most of my fellow Master of Divinity middlers, particularly those of us vying for an internship site in the Twin Cities, would agree that the last two weeks have been grueling because of internship interviews. I have now sat down for six such interviews, and I've got at least one more to go. Some folks find this particularly nerve-racking. I find it time-consuming, but it's also rather fun. I have really enjoyed talking to the various pastors and lay leaders about their congregations and discussing my own hopes for ministry. I'm really, really hopeful about at least two of the sites, and I'm getting mighty excited about internship in general. Where I will end up is up to God (through God's assistants at the seminary's Contextual Leadership Initiative), but I trust him (them).

Like I said, although the interviews are time-consuming, I don't find them nerve-racking. What has been racking my nerves perhaps as much as anything in the last couple weeks is a typeface. Yes, a typeface. A font, if you prefer. You'll notice it just to the right of this paragraph. It's called Copperplate (aka Copperplate Gothic). And it's ruining our world. "How can you have such a problem with a font?" you might ask. Well, having designed publications from time to time over the past several years, I have become familiar with a lot of fonts—sometimes too familiar. Copperplate and I first got acquainted around 2001, when I became editor of the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay's student newspaper. Copperplate and I used to be friends. But then Copperplate made friends with too many other people.

You may be one of them. You may have been scrolling down your list of fonts on Microsoft Word or PowerPoint one day and thought, "Hey, that's a cool, subtly seriffed font. It's nice and wide. It looks classy, and yet I don't think I'd want to pick a fight with that font. I'm going to use that font for my poster/presentation." I can't blame you. I thought the same thing. But that was many years ago.

I see Copperplate font at least once a day now. Lately, it's been several times a day. If you see the same font in different places on the same day and that font isn't Times New Roman, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana or Tahoma (and if you can tell Verdana and Tahoma apart, my hat is off to you, my friend), well, then we've got a problem. Here is a small sampling of the places where I've seen Copperplate in the last couple weeks:

• On the sign of a possible internship site when Tracy and I visited it one Sunday morning.
• On the cover of a book required for my Jeremiah course.
• On a poster for Tracy's museum.
• On the title page of a classmate's assignment that I proofread.
• In the "Milwaukee" of the Milwaukee Brewers' own logo (this one really pains me; I only noticed it this week)

The fact of the matter is this: Copperplate is on the verge of an overexposure to rival that of Comic Sans MS. Remember Comic Sans MS? It was a great font. When everyone first fired up Windows 95 and saw that baby among the options, it was impossible not to use it. But eventually so many people were using this cartoonish delight so often that it started showing up in completely inappropriate situations. I'm not sure that I ever saw it in a funeral bulletin, but it got almost that bad before, somehow, there came a magic moment at which just about everyone came to their senses.

That time is now for Copperplate. I had originally intended to make this blog entry into a larger critique of various little things that are grating on my nerves. I wanted to discuss the term "unchurched." (I know it's ideal to have a one-word term for people who don't attend a church, but can't we come up with one that doesn't make church into a scary verb? If I weren't going to church, I'd find something like "churchless" a little less derogatory. "Churchless" also at least clears the spell-checker in Microsoft Word.) And don't get me started on Hannah Montana. (Doesn't it frighten anyone else that the biggest star in America is the daughter of the guy who sang "Achy Breaky Heart"?) But right now I would be happy enough if we all were just a little more careful about diversifying our typefaces.

We drown our sins at the baptismal font (and in daily repentance). It's now time to repent and drown our sins with Copperplate font.

Luther Seminary blocks out the light of the Sun

Standing on the steps of Bockman Hall looking up at the sky while dragging on a cigarette, he said to me, “Look at that, the moon is red.” I didn’t look up, deciding it was safer to keep my eyes on the pavement. A little further down the road was a parked car in the Olson Campus Center parking lot. I wondered if the occupants were also taking in the astrological anomaly that the Luther Seminary Board of Directors would not be bringing out again until June 26, 2010.

Today was also regional assignment day here at Luther. Seniors gathered in the Chapel of the Incarnation, with family members alongside them, to learn where they’d be living and doing ministry for the foreseeable future.

Once home I did look up. Thankfully, the St. Paul drainage ditch that is Burntvedt Court is poorly lit, without the bright lights of a security patrol, and semi-surrounded by a small, dense forest. The sky was as bitterly cold as it was clear. It was beautiful. Thanks Luther.

No Good, Very Bad Day

They say bad luck happens in sets of three.

Today my senior classmates were assigned, a ritual I could not partake in.

There was excitement on campus and nerves while seniors waited for regional assignment envelopes to be passed out shortly after 5pm. While I am eager to hear where they will be sent and joyful for the adventures that await them, it's hard to know that I'm missing out on this rite. When it bothers me, I shrug and move on...until someone asks me where I'm hoping to be assigned and I must explain that abiguity and somewhat parallel adventure of not receiving a restriction. People ask because they care and because their curious, but on a bad day it feels like salt on a wound.

Some cried, some rejoiced and most said, "Okay. It's a clue, but I still won't know what that means for a few more weeks."

Today my car wouldn't start.

This happens fairly often, but today it made a devastating noise that seemed to say, "We've had a good run, Meta. Some good times, some bad sometimes, some warm times, some cold times. It's time for me to follow the light and find a final resting place. Thanks for the memories." I cried and had her towed out into the cold, blue yonder. It's the end of a era.

Later I went to the repair shop where my worst fears were confirmed. Totalled. I collected my belongings and said goodbye as though she were a beloved at the morgue.

Today my favorite bar caught fire.

Bummer! Matt and I had our third date at Maxwells almost four years ago and have congregated with our friends there ever since. The Thursday night wing and pint special has created a gathering ground for loved ones and friends. We save quarters for the meters. The servers stopped carding us long ago and have known what to bring us without asking.

I had to smile as people emailed and called to ask if I'd heard all day long. Is it a good thing that so many people think of me when they think of that bar?? But it's Cheers - everyone knows our names and plenty of laughter and love have been born there. Bummer.

But...Rejoice!

The good news? Today is over. I finished the day surrounded by friends and classmates celebrating regional assignments, those willing to give me rides here and there. Humor helps and hope reminds that these messes are just today. The temperature is expected to rise and the sun will be out tomorrow. Ordination, reliable transportation and a new Cheers are destined to be a part of days to come.

A bad day is just a day. There was grace in the conversations, prayers and actions of today. It's good to know that people care enough to ask about where I'll be next year, if I need a ride and where we'll meet up on Thursday now that Maxwells is down for the count. It is good to know that God is at work in transitions, they dying and the rising, the envelopes and the phone calls.

Keep seniors in your prayers! They know their regions, but must wait until early March to hear about their synods.

Back in Student Mode

Friends, hello. Classes resumed last week and I am back in student mode.

In the past for J-term I am away from the seminary because my work schedule usually does not allow me the flexibility to take intensive courses during the day. This time away usually allows me to do a little catching up with other parts of my life away from seminary and prep for the spring semester (books and binders put away, home study space restored to some kind of order.) This J-term I was not physically on campus but I did take a course: Early Christians in Asia Minor. I’ll tell you more about it but first let me tell you about the end of December.

I went home at the end of December. My goals were to see my family and friends, sleep late and to knit. I saw lots of family and friends. I did not get to sleep late. I did not finish my knitting projects. I’m okay with missing out on the latter two because I did the first one in abundance. On my mother’s side of the family I arrived in home the very day of an annual gathering of her cousins. Looking at my cousins my age I see WE are collectively graying around our temples, baby cousins are heading to high school and college, and our parents are moving a little slower. Still there was lots of laughter and we all realized how fortunate we are.

My other highlights in December were other young family members. My eleven year old niece introduced me to Disney’s High School Musical—I think she watched it at least every other day. I managed to hang in there for at least 30 minutes of it. I managed to pry her away from the DVD to play games. Connect Four is an old favorite which I won over and over. (Hey kids have to learn to lose, right?) And my five year old nephew told the best jokes ever. I am biased but check this one out: Why did the cow walk across the street? He wanted to go to the mooooo-vie. Perhaps you had to be there and see him bat those long curly eyelashes.

After about five days at home I returned to work in the Twin Cities and finished preparing to travel to Turkey January 9th–19th. This post is getting long so I will give you the Cliff Notes version about Turkey and share more later: the trip was a wonderful learning and travel experience. We started out in Istanbul saw much their and headed to Kayseri and traveled around this area before proceeding on to Izmir and back to Istanbul. We packed so much into those nine days on the ground in Turkey. One high point of our stay in Istanbul was walking around Hagia Sohpia—an impressive structure rebuilt in the 6th century by Emperor Justinian I in an attempt to establish Constantinople (modern Istanbul) as a kind of second Rome. Being there made me think in new ways about church and empire. The high point in Istanbul was visiting with Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew—the spiritual leader of Orthodox Christians around the world. We were an ecumenical group which he noted and he advised us to “fulfill and accomplish your studies to work for the one church of Christ.”

I look forward to sharing with you more highlights of the Turkey experience, a-hah moments from my coursework and other happenings. I hope your year is also off to a good start.

Blurry Preacher

Every spring at Luther Seminary, MDiv Seniors are invited to the pulpit to preach at a daily chapel service. Mine came yesterday.

This year many of us were surprised or disappointed when we learned that there would be no official nominating process for senior preachers. In the recent past, seniors have been asked and it has come to be seen as a privilege. With the change in organization came much hesitation.

I was also shy and tentative, but not entirely opposed to nominating myself. I choose to understand this as a privilege regardless of the new process because I am grateful to this preaching community. My faith and spirit have benefited greatly from daily chapel at Luther. Now it was my turn to share something with the community and conversation of proclamation.

One of the daily lectionary texts for February 11 was 1 Chronicles 21. I liked its obscure vision of mercy and decided to run with it. I never said Jesus in this sermon and this was the first time I’ve done that. Professor Carol Miles asked my Preaching the Old Testament class to wonder, “Can I preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ without explicitly saying Jesus?” and I didn’t have an answer yet.

I didn’t say Jesus in my sermon, but he was everywhere. The God we know through Jesus mercifully calls us back and makes us new. In the Nicene Creed, we confess that Jesus has been around since the very beginning and that all things were made through him. In John 1 we know that the Word was in motion and relationship long before Mary conceived. The Triune God was dealing with King David and forgiving his sin. The Triune God is at work in each Old Testament story and the grace it imparts.

I’m glad I preached in chapel and could share a story I learned to love with my peers and mentors. I’m also glad that I’m nearsighted and didn’t wear my glasses yesterday. When they look a little blurry, it’s less scary and much easier to pretend that they’re all smiling and nodding out there.

Islands and Internships

Today was the first day of my fourth semester at Luther Seminary. It didn't seem all that exotic or exciting, but maybe that was just because it was sandwiched between so much exotic excitement.

Tracy and I, for whom genuine vacations are pretty rare, got back yesterday from a four-day Wisconsin waterpark getaway. It was just too much fun for a seminarian to have just before plowing back into studies. (One of the only lowlights, shown here, was spending our final complimentary arcade token at our Wisconsin Dells hotel on a shoot-the-clown's-teeth-out machine that didn't work. The clown saved face, but I made a face I didn't even know I could make.)

The other exciting and exotic bread slice of the first-day sandwich came within the last couple hours, as both of my favorite TV shows, "Survivor" and "Lost," aired back-to-back for the first time. It was absolutely great. Two uninterrupted hours of pure island intrigue (or, as Professor Paulson once alleged, of pure Gnostic escapism).

So, try as I might to build it up, my first day of spring 2008 classes just can't compare to the surrounding fun. It did, after all, consist of only one class and an internship orientation session. I can only blame myself. After severely swamping myself with a grueling full load of classes last semester (I likewise took on five courses at a time in each of my first two semesters, but those courses were apparently not as difficult), I decided to take my required course on Paul's letters last month, during J-Term. Thus I'm now sitting with only four classes at a time and some days each week that are pretty wide open for study or work in the Communication Office. Mundane as it might seem now, I'm pretty sure I made a good move.

That's largely because, even though classes are just getting started, I'm already bombarded with what's coming next. Well, technically, what's coming next is Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE)—the 400 hours of supervised clinical ministry required for the prospective pastors in the Master of Divinity program. I've got a CPE site lined up at a pair of hospitals north of the Twin Cities, and I just started my introductory Pastoral Care course today, so I'm as prepared as I can be for that. But after that, the next big step is internship, and that's what's bombarding me.

As I just explained to a Master of Arts student in class today, students in the Master of Divinity program must take three full years' worth of courses and are thus categorized as juniors, middlers (I am here) and seniors. But it's a four-year program. That's where the internship comes in. Master of Divinity (Or M.Div., as people say for short as if we were some breed of "Star Wars" droids) students generally take on this full year of internship at a parish between their middler and senior years.

Many students for one reason or another seek only to intern at parishes within the Twin Cities metro area. I'm doing that because Tracy has established a job here in the relatively unusual field of museum curating, and it would be really tough for her to find a job in Kalamazoo, Mich. (I'm just assuming I'd get an internship in Kalamazoo because it has the funniest name in America), for a year and then have to get another job back in the Twin Cities for my senior year.

So right now M.Div. middlers, especially for the ones vying for sites in the metro, are scrambling to line up interviews with internship supervisors who will be on campus beginning next week. And that is where the real exotic excitement is for me right now at Luther Seminary.

Doesn't sound that exotic and exciting to you? Maybe not now. But just you watch. When all these TV shows about life on an island lose their popularity, they'll be replaced by shows about life in pursuit of church internships. Don't believe me? Well, if that writer's strike doesn't end, it'll happen.

Shout Out To W-1 P-7

We arrived early and only stood in line for fifteen minutes. The crowd was growing quickly and we were handed maps of our district and the school. The basement grew warm as we stood with others from our neighborhood, some wearing buttons and some holding their children.

I am glad we haven’t figured out how to hold a caucus securely and efficiently online. There is something simple and timeless about squishing into a room, checking a name and shoving it into a sandwich shop take-out box that says “ballots” with an arrow pointing to the slot.

Now that's Democracy.

The school felt chaotic as more people poured down the stairs and the volunteers collected maps to reuse. People of every age and race and neighborhood stood excited and ready. High school boys – men with a vote – chanted Obama’s name and little girls in purple snow boots were adorned with Hillary stickers. There was a homeless man with his bag and a member of my favorite local band.

We squeezed out into the fresh, crisp air just after seven to find the entire campus surrounded with a cue of eager citizens. There were still more looking for parking and vans dropping off their teenagers to make state history. My eyes welled up with tears watching neighbors mingle and their laughing breath fog up in the cold.

I’m honored to be a part of it all.