Archive for the 'All Saints Pasadena' Category

“He said I wasn’t a Christian”: teaching confirmation class at a liberal Episcopal parish

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on November 13, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Christianity, Faith, GLBTQ and Youth ministry
. 29 Comments

Yesterday afternoon (after the long run, before going off to Borat), I spent a few hours with our 2006-2007 Seekers Confirmation Class at All Saints Pasadena.  We’ve got about 19 kids this year, and it looks like another wonderful group.  The dear Susan Russell came to talk to us, and she was, as always, a hit with her candor, her humor, and her knack for turning the perfect phrase to appeal to adults and youth alike.

In our discussion, one topic came up that always comes up, and one that I haven’t blogged on before: the common experience All Saints youth have of being told "you’re not a real Christian."  Especially in recent years, as All Saints Pasadena has gained national prominence for its fight with the IRS and our bold stance in favor of gay marriage, I’ve heard from many, many of the teens I work with that they have been subjected to some fairly hurtful remarks from school friends and classmates. 

"You’re not a real Christian"; "That’s not a real church"; "You’re the gay church"; "You don’t follow the Bible"; "People at All Saints are going to hell" –every one of those comments was uttered to one or another of the kids in my confirmation class in recent months after telling people they attend All Saints Pasadena.  Some of our teens met the scorn and derision with pride and defiance; others responded with a shrug; others were genuinely hurt; still others were frankly bewildered. 

Few things make me angrier  than to have the youth I call "my kids" told that they aren’t real Christians.   Kids may not be particularly interested in theology, but they are intensely sensitive to judgment — and to be on the receiving end of so many unkind, cruel remarks is hard for many of them.  The church in which they’ve been baptized, the church in which they are preparing to be confirmed, is under attack — and for most of them, that means that their parents and many of the grown-ups they know and trust are also under attack.  As a thirty-nine year-old, I’m quite happy to cross swords with a fellow believer who questions my salvation or my theology because I endorse same-sex unions; I’m less happy when my fourteen year-olds are told they are going to hell because they worship where they do.

Still, like most of my fellow adult youth leaders, I have no intention of instilling a "martyr complex" in our teens.  I’m not going to give them the pathetic "the world hates us for our commitment to Christ" song and dance.  One of the least attractive strategies employed  by Christian conservatives is to insist to their youth that by adhering to antiquated social mores they are somehow being boldly counter-cultural; I’ll be darned if I’m going to foist the left-wing version of that nonsense on to my teens.  In a world where real suffering is omnipresent, being told "you’re not a Christian" because you worship at an inclusive church is hardly a major form of oppression.

On the other hand, we don’t simply encourage a "stiff upper lip".  We reminded our kids yesterday that no one issues "Christian credentials."  There is no agreed-upon litmus test.  While some evangelicals insist that Catholics aren’t Christians, and others refuse to acknowledge Mormons as our brothers and sisters in Christ, most sensible believers choose to see all who follow Jesus as authentic Christians.  While part of being Christian is certainly holding the person of Jesus Christ as central in one’s faith, it is absurd to suggest that only those who believe in biblical inerrancy, for example, are actual Christians.   "Being a Christian is about being willing to be on a journey with Jesus", I said, "even if you aren’t quite sure who exactly Jesus is and even if you are very unsure of where it is you are going."

Mind you, I think there are limits to who gets to call themselves a "Christian."  My mother regularly told my grandmother she wasn’t a Christian.  My grandmother had been an atheist since she was a student at Berkeley in the 1920s; she read Lucretius (De Rerum Natura), and that did it for her.  She rejected the whole idea of a loving God who took an interest in human affairs.  Yet she insisted on calling herself a Christian because in her childhood, to be "Christian" was simply to be kind and good.  It wasn’t a theological statement to her — it was a statement about how one behaved towards one’s fellow citizens.  "Doing the Christian thing" referred to taking an active interest in the well-being of others, and had damn all to do with a belief in Jesus.  To the end of her life, she was both "atheist and Christian". 

While I adored my grandmother, I think she was outside the realm of what a Christian is.   A specific belief about the inerrancy of Scripture or sexual morality is not a prerequisite for calling oneself a Christian, a recognition that the person of Jesus of Nazareth is central to one’s faith does seem to be essential to using the term accurately.  As a youth leader and confirmation teacher, I want to bring my kids closer to Jesus.   I want them to love Him not merely as a great role model for righteous praxis but as the greatest of friends, the best of brothers, the most intimate of lovers.  That is how I know Him, and that sweet, intimate, spiritually erotic relationship is the most exciting and enriching of my life. 

But whatever relationship this year’s confirmation crop chooses to develop with Christ, I want them to know that their right to call themselves Christians, their "claiming of the name", is not contingent on any one particular worldview; any one particular political allegiance; any one understanding of how, when, where, and with whom it is good and right to be sexual.   And this year, our confirmands will learn that no narrow-minded classmate or friend can rob them of the right to embrace the Holy Name.

Fat Suits at the Saturday Celebration

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on November 2, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena and Body
. 28 Comments

I ought to have blogged this earlier in the week, but got distracted.

On October 28, I was one of the leaders at the All Saints "Saturday Celebration", which offers a folky, relaxed, distinctly casual alternative to the more formal Sunday liturgies.  It’s the sort of service in which children are invited to run around and shake tambourines; this past Saturday, many of the little ones came in costumes.  We had princesses and witches and football players — and one boy of about eight dressed in the most extraordinary fat suit.

The suit, made of some synthetic material, covered him from throat to wrist to ankle.  It had a little remote control motor; when the boy pressed a button, the motor would cause the suit to inflate, simulating mounds and mounds of fat.  The exterior of the costume was painted to resemble the physique of an obese man, complete with a "butt crack" on the backside.   Of all the costumes worn by the kids, his got the most attention, particularly during that key part of the Anglican Liturgy known as the "parading of the costumes."  (This is, for the record, just after the prayers of the people and before the offertory.)  When it came time to receive the Eucharist, the boy inflated his fat suit to maximum size, and carefully guided by his parents, went up to receive the bread and the wine made holy.  Lots of indulgent smiles and chuckles all around.

I’ll admit it: one of the indulgent chuckles was mine.  I just wasn’t in the mood on Saturday afternoon to pull the parents of the boy aside for a quick chat.  In my head, I had the whole lecture ready: the cruelty of the stereotypes about fat people, the importance of sending a message of tolerance and inclusion rather than one of ridicule.  At All Saints, we preach the radical message that we are all children of God, equally precious, equally deserving of protection from derision.  Would a white child in black face have been okay?  If the little boy had dressed up as, say, a "dyke on a bike", would that have been okay?  I suspect not. But as a morbidly obese person, this rail-thin eight-year old delighted his parents and his peers.  And it made me very uncomfortable.

As the boy paraded around, I noticed one of the younger mothers staring the other way, out the window.  She’s a fairly regular parishioner, and she is very, very heavy.   I think her very little son was dressed as a badger or a wolf — something far less offensive.  I wondered if I ought to try and "check in" with this woman as well, and discover if she had been offended or hurt by the tyke in the fat suit.  But I second-guessed myself, got distracted with supervising the offertory, and before  I knew it, the service was over and the heavy-set mother had taken her son and left.

Bottom line: fat suits aren’t funny.  They aren’t appropriate Halloween costumes.  I may be on the slender side, but I am acutely weight-conscious; perhaps that’s why I found this outfit to be so hurtful and in such poor taste.   Is putting a skinny kid in a fat suit the moral equivalent of putting a white child in blackface?  Perhaps not, but it’s not far off.  And I missed a big opportunity on Saturday, and so I offer a tardy mea culpa this morning

Singin’ at All Saints

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on October 5, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Christianity, Music and Youth ministry
. 6 Comments

The cameras have been coming around All Saints Pasadena a lot in recent weeks.  Our famously progressive church has, as many know, been under IRS scrutiny for some months thanks to a 2004 sermon that may or may not have violated our non-profit status.

But the cameras and the reporters don’t come to Wednesday night youth group.   And while it’s true that our inclusive, welcoming theology is hardly what is normally described as "evangelical", I am happy to say that our worship culture is being transformed.  A few years ago, I felt like the token "Jesus freak" at All Saints; the theology of most of my fellow youth workers was more Unitarian than anything.  Many of the older teens were openly hostile to any frank expressions of Christian faith; they preferred a youth group that was equal parts games, intellectual discussion, and group therapy.  (Those are parts of a good youth experience, of course, but ought not be the sum total.)

In the last two years, the church has brought in some full-time youth ministers who manage to combine a respect for All Saints progressive political culture with an evangelical commitment to Christ.  This year, our junior-high minister started a praise band, made up of himself and five kids from both the senior and junior highs.  They’ve been learning basic worship songs, and last night, we had our first praise and worship time at All Saints in my eight years of working with the youth group.

My friends from the more charismatically inclined churches would have felt right at home last night.  The band was good (we have a number of teens who attend arts "magnet" high schools and are nearly professional in their abilities), and the combined junior high/senior high group responded remarkably well.  And the songs we sang!    Most of the kids and the other adult youth leaders didn’t know them beforehand, but as someone who listens to Christian radio and has spent plenty of time in more evangelical settings, they were quite familiar to me.  This one’s a favorite of mine, and it was a delicious bit of cognitive dissonance to hear it sung by 60 young voices at All Saints, many swaying and dancing as they did so.

At what may be the flagship parish of the American Anglican left, at a church where we regularly preach about the inherent goodness of humankind and where we deny the excesses of Calvinist doctrine, our 13-17 year-olds sang to Jesus:

I am full of earth
You are Heaven’s worth
I am stained with dirt, prone to depravity
You are everything that is bright and clean, the antonym of me
You are divinity
But a certain sign of grace is this
From the broken earth flowers
Come up pushing through the dirt

It’s lousy poetry, but it ends up opening a splendid praise song.  Who says you can’t combine liberal politics, an open-minded understanding of human sexuality, and enthusiastic praise worship?  Who says you can’t preach the theology of John Spong and sing lyrics that recall the theology of John Calvin?  Isn’t adolescence partly about the triumphant recognition and embracing of contradictions?  (Okay, I’m half-joking with that one…)

All Saints is gettin’ groovy.

All Saints and the IRS: the battle escalates

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on September 18, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena
. 15 Comments

I’m in the adjunct faculty computer room on this Monday morning.  For the second time this year, some wretch has tried to pick the lock on my office door.  They have failed, but they have successfully jammed the lock.  Eloy, my office mate, and I now are waiting patiently for the one locksmith on the entire campus to arrive.

The big local news, of course, is that the IRS has elevated its campaign to revoke my church’s tax-exempt status. The Los Angeles Times reported Saturday that All Saints Pasadena was hit with a summons late last week, demanding an extraordinary host of documents relating to one particular 2004 sermon preached by our rector emeritus, George Regas.  The Times reported:

(All Saints must surrender) all the documents and e-mails it produced during the 2004 election year with references to political candidates.

All Saints Episcopal Church and its rector, the Rev. Ed Bacon, have until Sept. 29 to present the sermons, newsletters and electronic communications.

Though I was not at church yesterday to hear our rector’s sermon on the subject, I’ve spoken to a few friends who were. The Times also had a reporter in the pews,(heck, several Times reporters are long-time parishioners), and a lengthy article about our collective response to the IRS appears in today’s paper.

George Regas, the former rector of All Saints (from 1967-1995) comes back to preach at the church a few times a year.  The sermon that launched the IRS investigation was one he preached on October 31, 2004 — two days before the election.  To my knowledge, I am the only blogger who blogged about the sermon at the time it was given, and probably one of the few regular bloggers in the ’sphere who actually was present that day.   Here’s my November 1, 2004 post: God, Voting, and Election Eve.

Rereading my post, I wince.  I don’t help the All Saints case much!  Though I voted for John Kerry in that election, I was upset with George Regas for taking what I thought was an exceptionally partisan tone.  His sermon, entitled "How Would Jesus Vote?", left little doubt that Jesus would not vote for the incumbent.  I wrote the day after:

Regas proceeded to tell the jammed sanctuary (high attendance at church yesterday) exactly how Jesus would feel about the Iraq war, the proliferation of nuclear weapons, and abortion rights. Jesus, we learned, would consider this war an abomination, the failure to disarm the gravest of contemporary sins, the latest round of tax cuts as an assault on the poor, and the right to abortion necessary in order to save lives. Except for fleeting references to Micah 6:8 (we liberals do love that text), no Scripture was cited to support these positions, but that didn’t seem to matter. George Regas was certain of how Jesus would stand on all of these complex modern issues, and by the time he was done, there was little doubt how Regas thought Jesus wanted us to vote.

I didn’t put it in bold in the original post.  I am quite confident (or am I?) that no one from the IRS read this post; the LA Times ran an article on the Regas sermon, and that is surely the source of the inquiry.  I wrote at the time that since Regas didn’t explicitly endorse Kerry, I didn’t think he had violated federal regulatory guidelines.  But I am not a lawyer, and am unfamiliar with the subtleties of the tax code and what non-profits are permitted to say and do.

(For what it’s worth, I’m enough of an Anabaptist that before listening to a sermon on how Jesus would vote, I’d want to hear a sermon on whether or not he would participate in the electoral process at all!  It may not be a sin to vote, but it’s not a sin not to vote either — the Kingdom of the Lamb is not of this world, and the transforming of hearts and minds will happen through inner conversions, not elections.  I wrote as much after listening to the Regas sermon. From my November 1, 2004 post:

Ultimately, Bush and Kerry are competing to be the most powerful prince in the contemporary world’s greatest principality. And while Christians can and should take an active interest in the affairs of this world, there is no question that real justice, real transformation, and real hope cannot come from the princes of this world.)

All Saints is now trying to decide whether or not to comply with the IRS summons.  The general sense at this early point in the process is that most folks associated with the church do not want to comply.  I was on the Vestry, the governing body of the church, from 2002-2003 (I resigned for many, many reasons not worth going into here).  I know most of the folks on the Vestry now, and I know Ed Bacon, our rector, quite well.  I can’t predict the future, but I will be very surprised if our church doesn’t end up fighting the IRS in court over this summons.  If I were on the Vestry still, I would certainly be among those who would vote to take on the government.

Again, I am not a lawyer.  Again, I disagreed with most of George Regas’ original sermon.  But there’s an enormous difference between an explicit endorsement of a candidate ("Vote for Kerry!") and an implicit endorsement of a candidate ("Jesus wouldn’t have supported the invasion of Iraq").  The IRS code does not demand quietism and passivity from churches.  Our friends on the religious right regularly fulminate about "anti-family" politicians from the pulpit; they usually stop just short of telling their congregants how to vote.  They don’t get investigated.  But if this IRS investigation proceeds, and a Democrat wins the presidency in 2008 — it may not be long before a flurry of summonses are falling into the laps of conservative preachers who are deemed to have "crossed the line."

I predict that despite a deep animus towards the theological and political orientation of the All Saints community, we are about to see a major outpouring of support from evangelicals and religious conservatives well to our right.   If the IRS can go after All Saints Pasadena during a Republican Administration, they can easily go after Jerry Falwell’s megachurch when the political tides turn again, as they inevitably will sooner or later.  And though I was annoyed with Regas’ sermon, I think it’s absolutely vital that churches, synagogues, mosques, and other religious and spiritual institutions feel free to preach on the relationship of faith and politics.  It’s one thing to say you can’t endorse a specific candidate.  But it’s another to say you can no longer proclaim "Jesus is against war."  (Or, for my right-wing friends, "Jesus is against homosexuality.")  If these statements are construed by the IRS as political speech that can cost a church its tax-exempt status, then all people of faith, regardless of where they fall on the conservative-liberal spectrum, are under attack.

I may no longer be on the All Saints Vestry.  But I am very active with the youth group.  I am sure we’ll be talking with our teenagers about this, and asking them to consider the cost of defying the government.  Believe it or not, even in this liberal bastion we do regularly talk with our kids about the cost of discipleship.  I suspect that all of us in the All Saints Pasadena family are about to learn a tough lesson about that cost.  I am hopeful that we will prevail in the courts should this case progress.  But I am absolutely confident that whatever the outcome of this investigation, All Saints will continue to be a powerful, prophetic community.  Though I am often at odds with those who lead my church, I stand with them today, and ask those who belong to other faith communities to offer support to us.

Reprint: Boys, Girls, Hugs

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on August 18, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Men and Masculinity, Sexuality, Youth and Youth ministry
. 4 Comments

I’m on hiatus — at least from substantive blogging — until August 28.  Until then, I’m reprinting favorite posts from 2004 and 2005.

I consider myself blessed to have grown up in a physically affectionate family. Not only was I regularly hugged and kissed by my mother, but I still hug and kiss my father whenever I see him. (I am grateful that my father, born in Austria, grew up in a relatively demonstrative culture.) As a schoolboy, however, I learned quickly that any sign of physical affection between men (other than during a sporting event, and even then, of a very limited and specific nature) was associated with homosexuality and effeminacy. I didn’t hug a man to whom I wasn’t related until I went to college.

Now, of course, I work as a volunteer youth minister at the local Episcopal church. During the past five years, I’ve worked with a couple of hundred high school-age youth. It’s given me a lot of time to think about gender and physical affection. If there’s one thing I’m committed to, it’s modeling appropriate but loving physical contact with my kids of both sexes. That isn’t always easy to do. Not surprisingly, I have had to confront my own acculturation when it comes to physical affection with young men.

First off, we live in a society that is absolutely obsessed with issues of sexual abuse. This obsession is particularly apparent in our churches and our youth ministries; the past three years have brought devastating news of molestation and abuse in every denomination (though our Catholic brethren seem to have taken the brunt of the hit). In this climate, all men who choose to work with youth are open to suspicion. Some of what is being done in response is good and necessary: stricter background checks, for example. But much of what has happened has not been useful, and some of it has even been counter-productive. I have a friend who works in youth ministry at a Presbyterian church nearby, and he says he has been told that the church’s policy is to never have any youth minister touch a kid in any way at any time. No hugs, no pats on the back, nothing. He’s looking for a new church.

Working with adolescents has taught me just how starved most of them are for safe physical affection, especially the boys. And over time, with input from those on staff at the church, I have developed my own guidelines for my own behavior. What it boils down to is this: I am an inveterate hugger. I hug everyone. Kids, adults, men, women, boys, girls, chinchillas, the ficus tree in the corner. That sounds more compulsive than it is. I have to be constantly, keenly aware of body language. I don’t foist hugs on anyone. Nor do I treat hugs as inconsequential, like Hugo’s version of a casual handshake. What I’m trying to do doesn’t always work perfectly, but it does seem to work most of the time. I’m trying to create a culture in our youth group where non-sexual physical intimacy feels safe and reassuring and validating. That takes a lot of time. Some kids came for six months before I could hug them. Some hugged me the moment they met me. Even in a nurturing and safe environment, there will be different levels of comfort with physical affection.

Many of the girls, of course, have little experience of non-sexual affection from men. If I hear one more story from a teen girl about how her father stopped hugging her when she began to develop, I’m going to scream. (I’m not a father, of course, but I’m just mystified by that phenomenon, which, anecdotally, seems to be epidemic). Many of them, though very young, have already been objectified and harassed by men my age or older. They are in desperate need of truly safe adult men — men who are neither responsive to their sexuality nor terrified of it. For the record, as a matter of common sense, I am never alone with teenage girls at the church. Ever. I also regularly "check in" with my fellow volunteers and with the church staff, asking them to be willing to challenge me should I ever even appear to behave inappropriately. But none of that stops me, when the barriers have been broken down, from hugging.

I don’t hug boys the same way I hug girls. For the most part, with the boys, "horseplay" is the safest environment for physical affection. We do a lot of that at All Saints Church. Mind you, I don’t get down on the ground and wrestle with the kids! But the playful pretend punches, the slaps on the back — all of these can be imbued with very real caring and affection. When I was a high schooler, I wasn’t ready to be held by older men — but I sure as hell wanted their attention, and I did want their caring and affection. A quick squeeze of the shoulder was about all I could take, but damn, did I want that squeeze of the shoulder from men I looked up to! I try and remember that. (I should note that some high school boys do like to hug just as much as the girls do, especially once they realize that ours is a safe environment).

In our current climate of hysteria, we in the church need to struggle to find a balance. We must of course protect our young people from exploitation and abuse. We must do everything we can to create a safe place within our church communities for our teens. But a place where every gesture of physical affection is seen as dangerous is an inherently unsafe environment! Our young women need to be reminded, over and over again, that they are loved and cared for non-sexually; in that effort, a hug is worth ten thousand words. Our young men need to be reminded, over and over again, that here, at least one night a week during youth group, they don’t have to be "tough guys." They need men in their lives who will love them without judging them or assessing their fragile masculinities.

I have to admit, it’s a bit scary to post about this. I know that many, many women out there — and some men — have devastating stories of betrayal at the hands of male authority figures. I know that many of them know just how awful it can be when what was supposed to be a "safe" hug or touch becomes something far different. I try to never lose sight of that reality. But it is also because I am so aware of the prevalence of sexual abuse that I insist on touching the youth with whom I work. I do so not to show my disregard for common sense, but as an act of defiance against a culture that declares all affection to be suspicious. I do it because the kids need it. I do it because we all need it. And I do it because Jesus did it.

Originally posted June 15, 2004

Two — whoops, three — more notes

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on August 6, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Blogging, Men's Movement and Movies
. 23 Comments

Two quick Sunday notes:

I’ve had a big upsurge in MRA (men’s rights advocate) comments this week. I’ve banned a few for trolling and will happily ban more.  Hint, lads: using words like "misandrist" will get you knocked out of here in five seconds flat.  Double standard?  Perhaps.  But this is not a free speech forum; this is a Christian feminist space, and those who are hostile to faith and feminism need to respect the focus and purpose of this blog.  Send me vitriolic emails if you like; call me a Stalinist; express your deep disappointment in me elsewhere in the numerous MRA forums, but please understand that unless you bend over backwards to demonstrate civility, you’re outta here.   Comments questioning this policy will also be banned.

Second: my readers who know All Saints Pasadena well will appreciate this.  Mutuality arrived in the mail this week; it includes an article by me.  In the short bio I submitted to the magazine, I described myself as an "evangelical Episcopalian" who worships and volunteers at All Saints Pasadena.  The dear editors of Mutuality reworded my bio, so that All Saints Pasadena — a flagship church of the progressive mainline — is now referred to as "an evangelical Episcopal church."  An understandable error, but for those who know ASC Pasadena, a whopper.

Oh,and #3: you must go see Little Miss Sunshine.  Now.   I mean, Toni Collette is just about my favorite actress in the whole damn world, and I’m in love with Steve Carell, but the whole cast is sublime.   I haven’t laughed and cried with such simultaneous intensity in years.  You’ll thank me for the recommendation.

“Let them go in peace”: some thoughts on unity, friendship, the Episcopal Church, and staying friends with Glenn Sacks

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on June 20, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Christianity and Men's Movement
. 87 Comments

In a comment below yesterday’s post about the election of Katharine Jefferts Schori as presiding bishop, I said (writing about the now-clear impossibility of preventing a schism): 

None of us should value unity over conscience.

Evil_fizz, a regular commenter here, wrote:

Hugo, I think that this comment is worthy of its own post, especially in light of a lot of the criticism you’ve been getting in the blogosphere lately. I find it fascinating that you’re able to stand on principle when it comes to something like ordaining liberal female bishops, but you still have lunch with Glenn Sacks (to use an old and well-thrashed example).

Evil_fizz refers to my personal fondness for men’s rights/father’s rights commenter and columnist Glenn Sacks on whose radio show I appeared twice in early 2005.   At various times as a result of various posts, I’ve been challenged in regards to Glenn and to my willingness to maintain warm friendships with men and women who hold strongly anti-feminist, anti-progressive views.  And while I have consistently celebrated the possibility of close relationships across ideological lines, I wrote yesterday that I do think that the best solution for the Episcopal Church in the USA would be for progressives and traditionalists to go their separate ways, acknowledging that to work to stay in the same denomination would involve too great a compromise on both sides.

Friendship and denominational unity are two different things, just as friendship and marriage are different things.  Last year, I wrote in defense of divorce.  Quoting Hall and Oates, I suggested that when it comes to ending a marriage — or, in this case, ending a theological union — "the strong give up and move along, the weak, the weak give up and stay."  That’s not a defense of giving up at the first sign of trouble; it’s an acknowledgment that after you’ve worked hard and unsuccessfully to bridge the gap, it’s wisest and best sometimes to let each other go. 

On a personal level, I’m grateful for all that my ex-wives taught me, even as I’m sorry for the pain I brought to them.  I’m not close to them any longer, but there is no enduring spirit of bitterness either.  We let each other go in peace.  I truly believe that the Episcopal Church in the USA may have reached the point where divorce is necessary and healthy.  The beauty of a "good divorce" is that it brings to an end the pointless fight over who is "right" and who is "wrong."  Though in the end, we Christians all believe that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, we can in good faith and conscience disagree radically about issues of sexuality and faith.  Though those disagreements will not, I believe, be impediments to our collective salvation, they are — in this broken world — real impediments to unity.  And that’s okay.  In the name of love, perhaps now is the time to let the other go.  Neither side (progressive or traditionalist) should have to sacrifice conscience any longer on an idolatrous altar of unity.

But giving up unity isn’t the same as terminating a friendship.  Nothing is more important to me than my faith.  The Great Fact of my life is that Jesus Christ is my savior; I believe His blood atoned for my sins and I believe I am called to follow Him.  But if I limited my social network to those who shared that set of theological beliefs, my life would be poor indeed!  I have friends who believe in the ordination of women — and those who are strongly opposed.  I can disagree with the latter openly; real friendship is not about the denial of differences but the warm and polite exploration of those differences! 

Of course, I have a great many friends who don’t share my feminism. Indeed, I am fond of some men who are active in the anti-feminist movement, just as I am close to some folks who are involved in the anti-immigrant Minuteman Project.  Yes, I acknowledge that "white male privilege" allows me to move in a variety of circles with a variety of friends, but I reject the charge that to believe in something passionately means forgoing a warm relationship with someone who actively believes the opposite.    I’ve been told countless times that I’m "not a serious person" (the classic slur among the leftist intelligentsia) because I insist that political and theological convictions are not the sum total of our identities. One can believe execrable things (and be an activist for execrable causes) and do so with the best of intentions and the most loving of hearts. Real friendship means "calling" one’s friends on their views and their behavior, but it also means acknowledging the possibility for mutual pleasure in each other’s company despite vast differences.  Ideology, folks, is not identity.  Good hearts can coexist with bad judgment and appalling views (something I know some folks regularly say about me.)

Marriage and the church involve a special kind of unity.  In order for a marriage to work, it may not be necessary to share the same views (we all know couples who cancel each other out every election day), but it is necessary to share the same ultimate goals for the relationship and a general agreement about how those goals are to be achieved.  Similarly, in a religious denomination, there can be some room for disagreement about non-essentials, but there needs to be a shared understanding of the fundamentals of issues like human sexuality and identity.  The Anglican Communion is, I believe, irrevocably split over these latter issues.  A warm and amicable divorce, with as little squabbling over property and power as possible, is in my humble lay-person’s opinion now the best course of action.*

But during and after a divorce, friendship can survive. And truly, we are all at our best when we surround ourselves with friends and family who challenge us regularly, whose beliefs trouble us as ours trouble them.  We may not be able to marry them, or worship in the same house, but we can "do lunch" and go for long runs together, neither obscuring our differences nor allowing them to drive us apart..   Friendship without ideological unity?   Not always easy, but almost always worth it.

*(Yes, I often mention that I’m fond of L.A.’s bishop, Jon Bruno, whom I’ve known for nearly a decade.  As a layman, I disagree with his decision to engage in litigation with those parishes that wish to leave the diocese with their property.  But I’m not the bishop; Jon is.  My admiration for and friendship with him does not preclude my disagreeing with him on my own blog, but I do so with a humble recognition that he is surely privy to facts that I am not.)

Celebrating Katharine Schori

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on June 19, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Christianity, Faith, Feminism and People
. 51 Comments

Like many Episcopalians, I am rejoicing at the news that Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori of Nevada has been elected the new presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, USA.   A relatively young (54) progressive, Schori is the first woman to lead a province of the worldwide Anglican Communion.   My friend and pastor Susan Russell wrote last night:

And so the very idea that the bishops of the Episcopal Church could elect a woman to lead them … and the House of Deputies concur OVERWHELMING to that election with barely a murmur of dissent is so overwhelming I’m almost afraid to go to bed tonight lest I wake up and find out it was all a dream.

I am so proud of this church I could just burst.

Proud that we were ready, willing and able to put everything else aside and select the person the Holy Spirit anointed to lead us with grace, with concord and with great joy.

Proud that through the many dangers, toils and snares we have come over the divisive issue of the ordination of women we have emerged on the other side of those challenges stronger, bolder and more open to God’s Holy Spirit.

Amen, Susan.  (To continue my bad but exuberant habit of name-dropping, church scuttlebutt suggests that the bishop of Los Angeles, my old friend Jon Bruno, played a vital — perhaps even the key — role in advocating for Bishop Schori.  That thought pleases me greatly.)

As a progressive evangelical Episcopalian, I’m thrilled by the choice of Schori.  She’s a strong supporter of same-sex blessings, and was an early backer of Gene Robinson, the bishop of New Hampshire whose election in 2003 led to the current crisis in the Anglican Communion.   Of course, both her sex and her theological views will engender (sorry) significant opposition.

Now this presents an interesting problem for conservative traditionalists in the church.  Some conservatives in the national church are open to female leadership, but not to acceptance of homosexuality.  Others, farther right, are opposed to both same-sex blessings and women priests (not to mention female presiding bishops!)   When they express concerns about Katherine Schori, smart traditionalists will need to differentiate between their objections to women in leadership and their quarrels with her progressive theology.  If they don’t, I can be fairly confident that my fellow liberals will deftly play the "sexist troglodyte" card against them!

As a pro-feminist Episcopalian (and dues-paying member of the evangelical, egalitarian Christians for Biblical Equality)  I’m obviously enthusiastic about the Schori election.  But even I struggled for years with the idea of women priests!  As I’ve written before, I began my Christian journey with a conversion to Roman Catholicism in college.  I seriously considered becoming a Dominican and giving my life to the church.  Though at university I worshiped with liberal Paulists, I became comfortable with an all-male priesthood.  It wasn’t a theological objection to women preaching or consecrating the host, it was simply an issue of familiarity.

I remember the first time I saw a woman preside at an Episcopal Eucharist.  It was about a decade or so ago; I was estranged from Christ and His church and in the midst of a long and troubled peregrination on the "dark side".  A friend of mine invited me to All Saints Pasadena (for the first time), and I came.  Our current rector, Ed Bacon, had just joined the staff, but the bread and wine were consecrated by a woman I (quite accidentally) already knew well, Mary June Nestler.  Mary June, a priest and now dean of the Episcopal seminary out at Claremont, had been a classmate of mine in grad school at UCLA where we both got our Ph.Ds in medieval Christian history.  Back in 1991 (1992?) we sat together in a very interesting seminar on early Irish canon law.  (See, I was an intellectual, once; I wrote a paper, still lurking somewhere, on the office of the episcopos as conceived in the Collection Canonum Hibernensis. Fun!) 

Anyhow, I recognized Mary June and was startled.  I had known two woman priests at UCLA: Mary June and  the philosopher Marilyn Adams, now at Oxford and in the early ’90s, on my dissertation committee.  But it’s one thing to know that a professor or a schoolmate is a priest, and another to see them "on the job"!  And let me admit this embarrassing truth: as I watched Mary Jane say the Eucharistic blessing, I felt scandalized — and guilt-ridden for feeling that way. Intellectually and theologically, I was more than prepared to embrace women in leadership.  Heck, by the time I showed up at All Saints that spring day ten years ago, I hardly considered myself a Christian anymore, so I didn’t feel I had much say in who ought to say mass in the church!   Yet my few but intense years as a Catholic had so conditioned me to an all-male priesthood that I felt distinctly uncomfortable throughout the remainder of the service. 

Obviously, once I finally did come "home" to Christ a few years later, I quickly became completely accepting of women in church leadership.  I was helped in this by a brief sojourn with some hardcore Pentecostals, who combined charismatic faith with a belief that all spiritual gifts were equally open to women.  Today, I’m glad to worship in a church where most of the ordained staff is female; I haven’t had even a flash of discomfort with a woman preaching or consecrating in years and years.  But I haven’t forgotten that embarrassing and shocking moment many years ago, as I watched a former classmate pronounce words that I had hitherto only heard from the lips of men.  I’m thus quite sympathetic to those who are initially squeamish at the notion of female priests; I know (as they will know, if they don’t run away screaming) that that discomfort vanishes with familiarity.

So, a big "hurrah" for Katharine Schori, our new presiding bishop, and for all of those women who came before her to open the priesthood to all.

Saying goodbye to the All Saints seniors

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on May 25, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Christianity, Faith, Sexuality, Youth and Youth ministry
. 12 Comments

There’s a lot of hubbub in the Anglican-Episcopalian blogosphere these days.  Those in the know always read Kendall Harmon’s Titusonenine and dear Susan Russell’s Inch at a Time for the latest on the ongoing conflict in the Anglican Communion over sexuality, Scripture, ecclesiology and how it is that those of us who disagree on these and other matters can stay in the same church.  Or not.

I spent a lot of my college years reading and studying theology.  In grad school, I did a "minor field" in medieval scholasticism with Marilyn Adams, and as an undergrad at Cal, went through a brief but intense period where I was convinced that God was calling me to be a Dominican.  (The story of the time I thought I had a vocation — when I was 19 and 20 — ought to be a post as well one of these days).  But for all of those experiences, I find I’m really not as attentive as I ought to be to the current battles being waged in the Episcopal Church over issues of sexuality and faith.  It’s not that I don’t care — I do.  It’s that as with so many other issues, I find that my sympathies lie on both sides of the fence.   I miss being younger, when I was so filled with certainties!  Wasn’t it Francis Bacon who said, "If a man begins with certainties, he will end in doubts"? That seems to be my fate these days.

But I’m not in doubt about everything.  One of the reasons I went into youth ministry was because I knew that I was passionate about teenagers.  These last several years working as a volunteer with the high school group at All Saints Pasadena have been joyous.  Last night, we held our farewell banquet for our graduating seniors — the seventh such banquet I’ve been part of since coming to All Saints.

Our seniors are heading off to various universities — USC, Michigan, Drexel, Fresno State.  They are all clearly eager for the next phase of their lives, though some are also a bit wistful about leaving behind everything they’ve ever known.  And last night, as we hugged them goodbye and wished them well, I wondered to myself what tools we at All Saints had given them to face the broader world.

Our kids are leaving a very progressive church.   If they spent all of their high school years at All Saints, they went through our "sex ed" curriculum four times, but never once got an abstinence lecture.  They never signed purity pledges or were told by anyone that "true love waits."  Many of them, on the other hand, did march in the West Hollywood Gay Pride parade last year, or the year before, or the year before.  As far as I know, all of our graduating seniors are straight, though some may yet discover new and surprising things about their sexual identity in the years to come.

Our kids never "nailed their sins to the cross", as kids in countless more conservative youth groups do.  Our kids never participated in an "altar call", and were never asked to accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior.  Most of our seniors have never heard of Switchfoot, or Third Day, or Jars of Clay, or any other Christian band — though I did play some Jennifer Knapp for them on a car ride once or twice.

On the other hand, our kids can — mostly — distinguish a thurifer from a crucifer.  They know what a paten is, and that in our church, a piscina is not the Spanish word for swimming pool.  They also know what it’s like to spend a lot of time serving the homeless, both in downtown Los Angeles and in Pasadena.  They’ve been on countless service projects.  Most have marched in at least one anti-war demonstration.  Unless I’m very mistaken, all of them (now old enough to vote) are well to the left of the political center, just like most of their parents and pastors. They’ve learned that living as a Christian is less about either an intellectual assent to theological propositions or an intense emotional response to Jesus, and more about living out lives of justice and sharing.  Watching the kids who were graduating last night, and remembering what they were like as squirrely eighth-graders, I teared up in pride; they have all become such fundamentally good and loving people!

The evangelical small voice inside of me says "But Hugo, shouldn’t you have pushed them harder?  Shouldn’t you have witnessed a bit more about Jesus?  Instead of giving eloquent but waffling defenses of individual sexual choices, shouldn’t you have risked more and articulated something more biblical?"  I don’t know.  I know I did a lot of affirming, and I (with my fellow youth leaders) talked a lot about living lives of love.  Last night, I found myself hoping and praying it was enough.  I wrote in February about these same kids:

And in my heart, I believe that by trying my best to love everyone of these kids as much as I can, as intensely as I can, with as much openness and freedom from conditions as I can, I am feeding them just as Jesus wants me to.

I still believe that. 

I’m praying this morning for Aidan and Elaine, Corin and Megan, Ronnie and Zak, Billy and Juan, Tom and Katherine and Joe and all the other seniors who are leaving what I hope was a safe nest for them.  My conservative friends might say that it was "too safe".  But looking at these gorgeous, creative, talented, tremendously kind young people, I am convinced that we in the progressive church also have the capacity to raise up good and decent human beings who are committed, in their own way, to living for Christ.  There’s more to being a Christian teen than a purity pledge and a silver cross around the neck.  Maybe our kids didn’t get as much talk about redemption as they should have — but we sure as heck gave them a commitment to justice, gentleness, and radical compassion. 

On some final day when I have to answer for my small part in raising up these lambs of His, I hope and pray I will be able to tell my Savior that I fed them as He asked me too.  Looking at "my kids" last night, I felt more confident than ever that that is what I, and the rest of the folks at All Saints Pasadena, have been doing.

Some further thoughts on Good Sex

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on May 8, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Sexuality and Youth ministry
. 9 Comments

I’m going through one of those seasons of my life where, for any number of reasons, my interest in working out has diminished.  My body needs rest from time to time, I suppose.  Plan of the week: more sleep, less boxing, less running.  I know I’ll lose some fitness, but my body will be much happier. 

In the comments below last week’s post on "purity balls", we have a brief debate about Christian sex ed curricula.  My commenter Glendenb is a fan of the Unitarian Universalist program Our Whole Lives, which is designed to offer sex education for everyone from children to adults in a series of age-specific modules.  It’s a program I know well, as we seriously considered adopting it at All Saints Pasadena back in 2002.

At the time that we were talking about sex ed curricula for the church, I was on the Vestry (the governing board in an Episcopal Church) and active on the Children, Youth, and Families committee.  I was also very clearly the "token evangelical", and more often than not, I was prone to impulsive provocation.  One issue I felt — and still feel — strongly about was sex education for teens, and I pushed for the adoption of a very different curriculum for our kids: Good Sex.  Here’s how the publisher’s web site describes the Good Sex program:

A plethora of self-contained but connected segments are organized in seven major sections:

1. Plumbing and Wiring: From androgens to zoologists *  Sex includes body, mind, emotions, spirit, and relationships *

2.  Sexual Identity: How people think about sexuality * What we think about our sexuality affects everything – body, mind, emotions, spirit, and relationships *

3.  Intimacy: Dating and non-sexual closeness * Sex does not equal intimacy and intimacy does not equal sex.  Intimacy equals intimacy.

4.  Desire: The difference between appetites and needs * Learning the limits of our obligation to sexual desires and grounds for self-discipline without denying the goodness of sex *

5.  Sex:  Sex isn’t everything, and sex isn’t nothing — so what is it? * Building sexual hope and understanding, and diffusing sexual tension *

6.  Responsibility: Our sexual responsibilities to God and each other * The Basic Speed Law governs our sexual choices for the rest of our lives *

7.  Do-Overs: Mercy, repentance, forgiveness, and restoration from God * Help and encouragement for new beginnings (students) * Help in identifying and serving kids who are sexually broken (leaders)

Each of the many segments within these seven sections encompasses two or more of the following elements: * God’s Story — Bible passages and open-ended, learning-centered questions for discussion * True Story — readings, short monologues, video, audio, on location opportunities to give information, stimulate thought, or ignite questions * Our Story — reflection, small group discussion, large group talkbacks, debate, play, agree/disagree voting, storytelling and more * My Story — writing, drawing, praying, worship, storytelling, seeking and giving help

Through the use of video, an extensive leader’s guide, and a student book called What Almost Nobody Will Tell You About Sex, the Good Sex curriculum is an upfront, truthful, process-centered resource that invites students to consider, understand, and surrender their sexuality to the God who loves them and who made them sexual beings.

The church agreed to buy the book and the leader’s guide, and several of us on the committee evaluated it.  In the end, for a variety of reasons, the church decided not to adopt any particular sex ed curriculum, rejecting both the very liberal "Our Whole Lives" and the far more conservative "Good Sex."  Instead, we who were youth ministers were invited to create our own model, one that borrowed from both curricula (and from others) and which reflected input from various constituency groups in the parish.

Now, teaching sex ed in a liberal parish isn’t easy (something I’ve blogged about before).  I don’t make it any easier by vacillating in my views.  Here’s what I wrote just last spring:

It’s easy to teach teens certainties, but harder to get them to embrace those certainties.  When I was in my more evangelical phase, I pushed for a more directed sex ed curriculum at All Saints. While I was not prepared to advance an "abstinence until marriage" agenda, I was close to doing so.  I don’t see my job that way anymore.  As I’ve grown less comfortable with at least some certainties, I’ve grown more comfortable with ambiguity. More important, I’ve come to understand that even teenagers — yes, teenagers — have the capacity to wrestle successfully with ambiguity!

I think the church has many jobs when it comes to teaching kids about sexuality.  One, certainly, is to help sift through the many destructive messages that kids get from the culture, especially those messages which place our youth of both sexes in impossible double binds.   The church must always be counter-cultural, even though a progressive church like All Saints would define "counter-cultural" differently than our brethren on the right.  Conservative churches consider abstinence to be counter-cultural; we at All Saints tend to think that being "counter-cultural" is about what George Regas suggests, teaching that good sex is connected to the "building of a good society"where not only is every person valued and respected, but our individual desires are not shamed.

Last year, my evangelical phase was waning; now it would appear to be waxing once more.  This doesn’t mean that I gave the kids a completely different message in 2006 than I did in 2005, mind you!  I haven’t tried to organize an abstinence campaign, and I won’t.  But in the past year, I’ve spent quite a bit of time with kids who are struggling with the serious and painful emotional and physical consequences of impulsive sexual decision-making.  Though some of "my teens" clearly can "wrestle with ambiguity", it’s clear to me that others, through no fault of their own, are (at say, 15) developmentally totally unready to cope with the very real fall-out from sex.

I reread the "Good Sex" curriculum recently, and was moved by the remarkable way in which it accomplishes two seemingly contradictory goals: on the one hand, the program makes the clear and  compelling case that God has a specific plan for human sexuality; on the other hand, it manages to avoid using "scare and shame" tactics to urge teens to live into that plan.  I don’t like traditionally liberal sex ed curricula because they downplay the importance of Scripture and church teaching in sexual decision-making; I dislike most modern abstinence programs because too often, they preach the head-spinning message of "sex is dirty, save it for someone you love."  (That’s when they aren’t terrifying kids with wildly exaggerated statistics about STIs and HIV.)  I like Good Sex (and rely on it informally in my leadership role) because it gently calls kids to restraint while loving unconditionally those who choose not to live into a traditional biblical understanding of sexuality.  That’s a tough needle to thread, but I’m trying to do it — and Good Sex is a huge help.

Pro-ana websites and abs on the floor

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on April 3, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Body, Eating disorders, Vanity, Youth and Youth ministry
. 13 Comments

Thanks to Jill at Feministe, I read this article in yesterday’s New York Times: Before Spring Break, the Anorexia Challenge.

I REALLY gotta start losing weight before spring break," a 15-year-old from Long Island wrote in her blog on Xanga.com, a social networking site. "Basically today I went 24 hours without food and then I ate green beans and a little baked ziti. Frankly I’m proud of myself, not to mention the 100 situps on the yoga ball and the 100 I’ll do before sleep … Yey for me."

For most students spring break represents the promise of a beer-soaked respite from Northern cold and midterm stress, a time to let go and revive. But for a subculture of students with eating disorders, this annual weeklong bacchanalia, unfolding across Florida, Mexico and the Caribbean during March and April, represents the summit of deprivation and self-denial.

Though not widely discussed — sufferers of eating disorders often spend years in denial about their condition, and therapists treating them can rarely isolate any single reason for these complex psychological syndromes — those who treat eating disorders say spring break is one of the most dangerous times of the year for young women struggling with their weight and eating.

The article discusses the huge number of pro-anorexia ("pro-ana") sites now flourishing on the Internet, including many that offer encouragment and even contests to help readers lose weight and practice ever more extreme restriction and restraint.  As anyone who has worked with eating disorders will tell you, anorexia is a competitive disease — and while girls a decade ago competed against their classmates and nearby peers, the ‘net allows comparisons to go global (or at least national.)  A 15 year-old in Pittsburgh can offer her extreme diet tips to her cyber buddy in Portland, and her cyber buddy can triumphantly list the ways in which she has "topped that."  The potential for dangerous escalation is obvious.

From a feminist standpoint, it’s easy to point out how destructive it is for young women to try to live up to an impossible media ideal.  We can also point out — feminists usually do — that anorectic behavior is sometimes about attaining a perfect body and more about an extreme form of social protest. 

Young women who feel profoundly disempowered by their culture and their families and their peers find a deep sense of control and pride through compulsive exercise and caloric restriction.   After all, if you can control nothing else, you can usually control what goes in your mouth!  By battling hunger pangs and conquering the basic desire to eat, a young person with an eating disorder can quietly but powerfully live out a "heroic" life.  If heroism is about obstacles overcome and about dragons slain, what more visceral way to create a heroic life narrative than to practice radical self-denial?   While women and men in centuries past might have sought religious ecstasy through fasting, young women (and some young men) today can pursue a cultural ideal of physical perfection as well a psychological sense of power and control.

As a youth leader, I have to deal with this in a practical way.  This past weekend, as I mentioned in my first post today, we did a lot of eating on our retreat.   At one point on Saturday afternoon, while we were taking a break from our activities, a discussion broke out among a few of the girls about their tummies.  Like the young women mentioned in the Times article, several of our girls were keenly aware of the approach of swimsuit season.  Though we were bundled in comfy sweats, there was a brief period of lifting of shirts to expose bellies and discuss strategies for flattening and firming.  (Mind you, not much flesh was exposed, and my shirt stayed in place.)  At one point, two of the girls got on the floor and started doing ab exercises.  Knowing that I work out, one of them asked me, "Hugo, can you show us an exercise to do?"

Not thinking it through, I got down on the carpet and began to show them one very simple, safe, basic, Pilates exercise.  It was nothing that could be dangerous to them — really just a simple movement (combined with correct breathing) that is designed to work the lower abs.  As the girls were pointing out, lower abs are the hardest part of the midsection to train — and Pilates really does teach you to work that part of the body safely and efficiently.  So we did a few reps of very simple abs, and I gave some generalized advice.  (Yes, my All Saints friends, I did mention six ways to Sunday that though I have a lot of experience, I am not a certified instructor, and I made sure that the only exercises I mentioned were the very basic and safe ones.  Some routines in mat Pilates, done without training and supervision, can be dangerous.  I didn’t even mention those, but did recommend Pilates for core training.)

Today, reading the Times article that Jill mentioned, I began to wonder if I might have handled the situation in a better way on Saturday.  I’ve led lots of workshops for the kids on eating disorders, but that was not our focus this weekend.  Still, I could have started some discussion about the pressures young people (especially but not exclusively girls) feel to have the perfect "bikini-ready" body for summer.  Rather than question the need for perfect abs, however, I reinforced that desire.  I made it clear that even at more than twice their age, I shared their interest in pursuing an ideal, and showed them (safely and briefly) one way in which I pursue my own goal of a rock-hard core.  Was I being helpful, or was I merely affirming an unhealthy way of thinking about the importance of the body?  I mean, they were going to "do abs" anwyay — wasn’t it better to show them a safer and more effective method for reaching the "target" area?  Or should I have re-directed the discussion?

On a related note, one of the other volunteers (who is also a runner) and I are planning to lead a marathon training program next year for All Saints youth and staff, modeled on the very successful "Students Run LA" program associated with our city’s marathon.  We’ll start in the fall, with a goal of helping as many kids as possible train to run the marathon — and perhaps raise some funds for worthy charities in the process.  (We’ll call it, "All Saints Runs LA" or maybe "Saints Run LA"").   As someone who loves running and loves to spread the gospel of running, I’m eager to do this.  But thinking about my own motives and this past weekend, I realize I will have to be very careful in terms of how I approach this project.  The goal must not be on attaining an ideal body, but rather on setting goals and accomplishing them.  We must be especially careful to lead this program in a way that encourages a love for physical exertion while not reinforcing self-loathing.  That will be a vital needle to thread.

Monday notes, and a reflection about youth ministry and ego

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on April 3, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena and Youth ministry
. 2 Comments

First off, a dozen new pictures of Matilde in this photo album.  Lots of good action shots; this one is our favorite.

I note that UCLA — my graduate school alma mater — plays for the national championship in basketball tonight.  Here’s what makes me feel old: in 1995, the Bruins won their last national title when I was in my second year of teaching here at Pasadena City College. I had a Monday night class back then, and thus had to listen to the radio during a break to catch the score.  Tonight, I’ll be able to go online during that same break period to get an update — but once again, eleven years later, I’ll miss the entire game with teaching responsibilities.  My Trojan wife has agreed to root for the Bruins tonight (thanks to my willingness to cheer on USC in the Rose Bowl three months ago.)  We both agree that Los Angeles is in its right state when USC dominates in football, and their cross-town rivals on the basketball court.

I’m home, a bit bleary-eyed, from another confirmation class retreat in the San Bernardino mountains.  Here’s my post from last year about the 2005 retreat, and the "creed-writing" process; most of what I said then applies to this past weekend as well.

Having been in the youth ministry game for a number of years, I’ve begun to see some real changes in my approach to teenagers.  When I was first doing this work seven years ago, I was far more anxious.  There’s something about doing youth ministry that can bring back all of one’s own adolescent anxieties!  My first thought, as I’ve written before, was that I wasn’t "cool enough" to work with teens. I feared being exposed as a fraud — or worse, in a sense, as a "geek."   In my nightmares, I saw the faces of All Saints teens (particularly the "popular" ones) transposing with the faces of the poised and the beautiful kids I knew in high school — the ones I both idolized and feared.  But a good friend told me, "Hugo, they’re much more worried about what you think of them than what they think of you"; those words gave me the courage to begin my career as a volunteer senior high school youth leader.

What I love about working as a youth minister is that it does, in a very real way, allow me to stay in touch with adolescent wildness and adolescent intensity.  I may be nearly 39, but teenage emotions (with all their grandiosity, volatility, sentimentality, and vulnerability) are instantly familiar to me.  That doesn’t mean, mind you, that I think of myself as an over-grown teenager! The kids in this year’s confirmation class were mostly born in 1990 and 1991 — after I was already married for the first time.  With each passing year, the age of the kids stays the same (they are perennially 14-16); Hugo gets older.  But as I get older and softer and (one hopes) wiser, I’m happy to say that I don’t ever forget just how intense and pure and overwhelming it can be to be in the throes of mid-adolescence.

The easiest part about youth ministry is loving the kids.  The hardest part — and I suspect most who do what I do professionally or avocationally would agree — is the feeling of powerlessness one often gets in the face of great pain.  So many of our kids are hurting so much! Some of their woundedness comes from family trouble; some of it is a result of their own poor choices; some of it is a result of their own unique brain chemistry.  Though I’ve written before that I believe that the most vital thing we do in youth group is love, I’m also keenly aware that my love is not the same as God’s love.  I can’t rescue troubled and unhappy kids, though I can reassure them and hug them and tell them I do care.  But in the end, the hardest thing I have to do is to step back and point — point the kids towards God, and ask them to take the steps they need to take towards Him.

Teenagers, like all of us but only more so, are inclined to confuse the messenger with the message.  I’ve learned the hard way that it is all too easy for me to seek validation from my high schoolers by trying to make myself emotionally indispensable.  I want them to love the messenger too, of course — but not at the expense of the message itself.   My intentions were always, at least on the surface, very noble: "I want to be there for my kids!", I would regularly proclaim.  Yet at times in my first couple of years as a youth leader, I was too quick to "rescue", to play the role of "white knight" I so love to play. Lordy, I always have to be on guard against the impetuous demands of my own ego! Yes, I want the kids to know I love them; yes, I love that so many of them love me back.  But my job is not to draw kids to myself, my job is to point them and nudge them towards a relationship with God.  Though I’ve dried a lot of tears and heard a lot of stories, in and of myself I have no capacity to transform the lives of these young people about whom I care so much.   In partnership with God, they must become agents of their own transformation.

I’ve been doing this long enough that I’ve seen some of my former high school youth go on to graduate school. I’ve been blessed to see tremendous growth in them — and, I’m pleased to say, in me as well.  I’ve been learning, to paraphrase the St. Francis prayer, that I am called to be an "instrument of His peace" — but I am not the source of that peace.  It’s a distinction I am happier to say gets easier to make each passing year, even as my compassion and love for "my kids" grows and grows.

I got a lot of hugging in this weekend. I also got in a lot of junk food, and will need to be very mindful about my eating in the days to come.

“Does it matter where the gay youth leaders sleep?” A sensitive question about youth ministry in the inclusive church

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on March 20, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Christianity, GLBTQ and Youth ministry
. 77 Comments

Today in my gay and lesbian history class, we briefly got on to the topic of the terrible stereotype about gays, lesbians, and pedophilia.   Most of my students are familiar with the unfounded cultural fear that associates homosexuality with the sexual abuse of children.  But talking about it today brought back flashbacks to an old experience I had when I was first working as a youth leader at All Saints Pasadena a number of years ago.

One of the first time I went on retreat with the kids, I was one of four adult leaders headed off to Big Bear for the weekend. There were two male and two female leaders, and about a dozen kids of each sex.   The other male youth leader, "Oscar", was an openly gay man and a loved and trusted member of the All Saints community.  (He’s no longer with All Saints).  The two female youth leaders were straight.  As is common on such retreats, the boys shared a communal shower area, and dressed and undressed in front of each other.  Boys and girls were not allowed in the other sex’s cabin without adults present.  Before I went into the girls’ cabin, I would knock and wait for the all-clear.  (Replete with the usual "Everybody decent?" query, followed by mildly profane and silly responses!)

When we got back from the trip, I had a conversation with a parent.  (Yes, I know All Saints people read this blog — no, you can’t possibly guess who I’m talking about.  This was five or six years ago; don’t try.)  This man (I’ll call him "Jim"), the father of one of the boys in my cabin, was irate that Oscar had been on the trip.  His angry challenge rocked me.  Jim said:

"Hugo, I have a daughter who will be old enough for a retreat in a couple of years.  Now, I know you, Hugo, and I like you.  But I would not be okay with you sleeping in the girls’ cabin with her and using the girls’ bathroom with her.  I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, either!  But Hugo, how come I’m supposed to be okay with a gay man sharing space with my son?  Why is it okay for Oscar to be in the boys cabin, but not okay for you to be in the girls cabin?

I’ll confess, I was totally unprepared for the question.  Jim didn’t want to approach All Saints staff; he was not interested in filing a formal complaint.  But he knew me well enough as a friend to express his concern, and he wanted an answer.  I told him that I couldn’t think of a good response off the top of my head, and I told him I’d get back to him. He made me promise not to raise the issue with All Saints staff (or with Oscar), and I agreed.

I spent a week running the scenario by everyone I knew who wasn’t associated with the church. Some of my more liberal friends were indignant that the question was even asked: "Screw the father! It doesn’t deserve a response, it’s pure bigotry!"  Some of my conservative friends were delighted that I was in this quandary, convinced that I couldn’t come up with a justification for why Oscar belonged with us in the boys cabin.  (Several of them pointed out that I had run into one of the reasons why the Scouts still ban openly gay leaders from working with their boys).  Most people weren’t much help, frankly.

But I wanted to get back to Jim, and I called him the following week. Here’s more or less what I said:

"Jim, you’ve given me a lot to think about. I thought coming up with a good answer would be easier than it has been.  And I want you to know that I believe you’re coming from a place of love and concern, not from bigotry.  But I’ve thought about this for a while, and I believe that we can make the case that gay men and lesbian women can be superb youth leaders, and be in the same close proximity to youth of their same gender as straight leaders.

The reason we put the male youth leaders with the boys and female youth leaders with the girls isn’t because of sexuality, at least not mainly.   A gay male youth leader is still a man; a lesbian youth leader is still a woman.  We divide up the sexes for the comfort and safety of the kids, because when it comes to teenagers, we believe it’s important to have separate space for things like showering and sleeping.  Sexual desire isn’t the issue, Jim; it’s really just a matter of biology. Gay men use the men’s restroom, and no one has a problem with that!"

Jim came right back:

You’re dodging, Hugo.  When I was in youth group, we changed in front of each other.  Do you ever see the boys in their underwear or naked?

"I suppose sometimes, yes."

Do you think, Hugo, if you saw the girls naked or in their underwear, you might be aroused or uncomfortable?

"Jim! No!  Totally inappropriate question, and I would never put myself in that situation!  EVER!"

Exactly, Hugo! You may not want to go there, buddy, but bear with me: why would you never, ever be in that situation, but you expect Oscar to be?  We’re all human beings.  Are you so confident that your devotion to ministry would conquer your sexual desires?  Do you think it’s possible a gay man might get turned on by being around undressed teenage boys?  Yes or no?

I conceded it was possible.  "But even so, I know Oscar.  He’s got terrific boundaries and a heart for youth ministry.  He would never, ever, ever, cross that line."

That’s great, Hugo; I’m glad you stand up for your friends.  But not all parents know Oscar the way you do.  Should we just take your word for it?  Do you know what Oscar really thinks when he sees my son in the shower?

At this point, I began to get flustered and I lost my cool.  My eagerness to defend Oscar overtook me, and I said some things in anger.  I’m sorry to say that the conversation ended badly.  And frankly, I’ve revisited this debate many times.  I know from experience that gay men and lesbians can be wonderful and safe youth leaders.  But I’ve never found the words to effectively convince concerned parents and others who ask the same sort of questions Jim asked.

In my heart, I’m convinced that the biological sex of the youth leader should be the sole determinant of which cabin he or she sleeps in.  I don’t believe that the potential for sexual arousal is the primary reason why straight male youth leaders aren’t put in the girl’s bunkhouses — though I acknowledge that not everyone agrees with me.  But I’m not yet doing as good a job as I could be of addressing the concerns of those folks, like Jim, who see a serious problem.

So, readers, open question time:

If you were in my position, and belonged to an affirming church, what would you say to a parent like Jim? 

While it’s not necessary for you to support an inclusive and welcoming position on  homosexuality in order to comment, please avoid using hurtful or stereotypical language to refer to gays and lesbians.  Civility in tone and content is mandatory.  Let’s also remember that in youth ministry, trust and accountabilty are everything — so the answers we give to people like Jim need to be couched in loving and respectful language.

A long post on youth ministry, accountability, and fearless loving in a climate of suspicion

Published
by
Hugo Schwyzer
on March 3, 2006
in All Saints Pasadena, Christianity, Men's Movement, Sexual ethics and transformation, Sexuality and Youth ministry
. 25 Comments

It’s been a good morning, and I finally have some time to blog.  I had back-to-back coffee dates this morning with a couple of different folks at the Fuller Seminary bookstore.  I’m caffeinated and stimulated from some good discussion; I’m also still high from a hard workout.  I want a diet Coke badly, but am restricting and "offering it up."

I’m thinking about this comment that appeared below my post yesterday about the reaction to my use of the term "gorgeous faces" to describe my youth group kids.  "Shfwilf" writes:

It’s a very short trip from an email like this to an accusation of impropriety. If that happens, even though you have not done anything wrong, you will find that your entire life will become an instant nightmare. Best case, you will spend a lot of time and money defending yourself against a false accusation and succeed, but find that your reputation has been ruined. Worst case, you will fail and find yourself labeled a criminal as well as losing time, money and your reputation. You may even find yourself in jail.

I hope you will think long and hard about these possible consequences.

I’m a mental health professional (Child & Adolescent Neurosychologist) and for the last five years I have refused to treat any female patients of any age for any reason. I do this not because I dislike females, but because I need to protect myself to the extent that is possible, and I see no other way of doing it. This doesn’t protect me from an accusation that I did something inappropriate with a male patient, but at least it lessens the odds a bit that something bad will happen to me.

Perhaps we need to work to change "the reality that we live in a climate of heightened suspicion of adult men who work with teens" instead of just passively accepting it.

I feel compelled to respond, because I’m so saddened by what Shfwilf has written.   He — and some of my other commenters — invite me to become outraged at having been the target of suspicion.  They imply that it’s our "culture of misandry" (man-hating) that is to blame for perfectly innocent remarks being misconstrued, and perfectly innocent men being falsely accused of harassment, boundary violations, and molestation.  They encourage me, it seems, to rail against the injustice of it all!

But I’m not gonna get angry at that "parent in Mission Viejo" who took issue with my language.  I’m not gonna take issue with the parents who, learning through the rumor mill about my extremely "colorful" pre-conversion past, contacted the All Saints Church staff to express concern about my service with the youth.  I’m not going to get angry when I’m asked to sign — as I was asked to sign — an agreement never to be entirely alone with a teenage girl at church.  (Not a special request made of me, but one made of all male volunteers.)

You see, abuse and molestation and boundary violations are not the figments of the collective and overactive imagination of worried parents.  Too many men in positions of responsibility have proven themselves unworthy of the trust placed in them.  Too many men have crossed lines that ought never be crossed with the boys and girls for whom they were responsible.  Yes, we are all aware that a small number of adult women have also been guilty of sexual abuse of the young; those rare stories grab extraordinary public attention, largely because they represent only a fraction of the actual number of cases.  There still is every reason to be more suspicious of male youth leaders than of female ones.  I can wish that it were otherwise, but to be an effective youth leader, I’ve got to acknowledge the reality of the problem.  I’m not going to complain about being "guilty until proven innocent"; I’m going to buckle down and get to work at the task of proving myself innocent. 

Of equal importance, I choose to work with other men to help them set up appropriate boundaries with female students, youth groupers, clients, what-have-you.  Rather than sulking because I’m not trusted thanks to my sex, I’m choosing to be proactive.  That "proactivity" means working to help create an environment in my work and in my avocation where we can honor three equally important principles of youth ministry:

1. Safety
2.  Accountability
3.  Intimacy

The kids need to be kept safe emotionally, physically, and sexually.  The youth leaders must be accountable to God, to the church, to the kids, and to one another.  And we must accomplish these first two goals without in any way sacrificing the third priority, to create a loving and intimate environment where we can all share our stories, our hugs, and our love in His name.  I’m committed to all three of these principles, and I’m not willing to give up any one of them for the sake of another.

Here’s a brief example of how this works.  Sometimes, one of the youth group kids will ask to meet with me privately to talk.  I traditionally meet with ‘em on Wednesday afternoons before youth group.  No matter whether I’m meeting with a boy or a girl, I let someone on the church staff know.  "Hey, so-and-so is coming by to talk to me.  We’ll be out front on the bench" (or in the glass-doored junior high room, or wherever).  I check in with another adult right before and right after I meet with the teen, and I always meet somewhere we can both talk without being overheard yet still be seen by others.  Everyone is kept safe, I’m staying accountable, and my kids are able to meet with me intimately and privately.  Yes, setting this up involves some conscious thought — but it’s not that big a deal once you get used to it.

I could never imagine doing what Shfwilf has done; it makes me desperately sad to contemplate such a radical decision.   I would never close myself off to "my girls" for fear of what a false accusation could do to me personally and professionally.   That doesn’t mean I’m reckless; I left behind my disastrously self-destructive streak when I came to Christ!  I trust myself, but I also create opportunities for others to verify my trustworthiness. It may be tedious, but it’s necessary.  It’s necessary because so many of my brothers have betrayed the trust that was placed in them, and it’s up to guys like me to earn some of that trust back.  I don’t share in their guilt, but I must carry — and carry cheerfully — the burden of suspicion that their foolishness created.

Anyone who sees me in youth group knows I’m a "lover."  If it moves, I hug it!  Mind you, I don’t foist my embraces on those who don’t want to be touched; immodestly enough, I believe that my ENFP-ness and my own experience have made me acutely sensitive to what is welcome and what isn’t.  When I’m in church, I want to share the excitement and love I feel with everyone, and I want to make it manifest in physical contact.  I do it publicly and openly, mindful of those three commitments I’ve written about above.  And in the end, I never stop asking God to show me exactly how it is that He wants me to love His lambs  As Caedmon’s Call sing in one of my favorite of their songs, I go into youth ministry walking "with grace my feet and faith my eyes."  If my heart is right, if my prayers are fervent, if I practice common sense, trust my instincts, and let others hold me accountable, then by these things and by divine grace I won’t ever cross the lines I shouldn’t cross. 

When God redeemed me from my life of selfishness and misery, He made it clear to me that I was supposed to love boldly and fearlessly.  And that’s what I’m going to do with the lambs I am privileged to help to feed.