Recently in Personal Category

After a long pause...

Just returned to Minneapolis from an uneventful overnight trip to Raleigh, NC. Everything is so dry here in Minnesota; must be the driest summer in years.

Last night, alone in the hotel room, I had an exquisite experience of God's presence. I was able to pray, if but haltingly and self-consciously.

On the plane today, I read an article in Harpers Magazine that left me questioning the value of the industry I work in. Food for thought at a later moment, perhaps.

On the way home in a taxi - darkness begins to fall. Looking forward to a couple of hours relaxation with my man.

But first, the thirsty lawn needs watering...

I recently read and was deeply touched by Barbara Brown Taylor's Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith. Taylor is a pastor's pastor who found herself forced to give up what she loved doing (and thought was God's plan for her life). She had become spiritually exhausted and depressed and desperately in need of renewal. Being a priest was cutting her off from God. In letting go, she released herself to rediscover her faith in God and to become more truly missional in her ministry.

I am someone who seriously considered at various times during the past 25 years entering the professional ministry. I have felt God's call on my life since I was sixteen. At first prevented from realizing my passion because of my youth, and also because I was queer, I embarked more than once on the path only to never quite find the strength (or grace) to see it all the way through.

My most recent adventure with this very compelling sense of calling came to an end last year, when my recent intention to embark on an M. Div. collapsed in a crisis of faith accompanied by a prolonged period of depression. Many a day there is when I know not what I am called to do, or whether there is such a thing as an individual calling at all.

But there's more: while I have counted numerous ordained and semi-ordained individuals among my friends (and boyfriends) I have never been able to shake a quite anti-institutional bias. I don't have much faith these days that the visible, organized church or the professional career ministry are (or really can be) agents of profound spiritual transformation in this world. The church envisioned by Jesus and proclaimed by Paul is not its clergy or other leaders and even less its buildings, operations and ministries.

Where is transformation going to come from then? Perhaps part of the answer is provided in Bill Kinnon's recent blog entry, The People Formerly Known As Congregation.

Let me introduce you to The People formerly known as The Congregation. There are millions of us.

We are people - flesh and blood - image bearers of the Creator - eikons, if you will. We are not numbers.

We are the eikons who once sat in the uncomfortable pews or plush theatre seating of your preaching venues. We sat passively while you proof-texted your way through 3, 4, 5 or no point sermons - attempting to tell us how you and your reading of The Bible had a plan for our lives. Perhaps God does have a plan for us - it just doesn't seem to jive with yours.

This position comes not from a sense of bitterness but from a grasp of a calling to the universal priesthood of believers far from realized. Apparently the post created quite a wave in the post-evangelical and emergent blogosphere. It is not long, and worth reading in full.

One blogger noted that the reason Bill's post 'hit the blogosphere with such a splash is because there are so many people who sense the validity of the issues he addresses in his post.'

There is a path of detox and deconstruction that leads to an understanding of the underlying problems in the system of church that Christianity has functioned in for many years. Most who follow this path still have an appreciation for the traditional church although they can no longer wholeheartedly embrace the packaged religious experience.

John Frye adds to the conversation with his own interesting insights on the people, like Barbara Brown Taylor and himself, formerly known as Pastor.

As late fall and winter bore down on the upper Midwest, I began to lose my enthusiasm for maintaining this blog. I began to lose enthusiasm for a lot of things unfortunately. My last posting was over three months ago. I have not had much to say in the interim.

Winter here can be hard on the soul for someone used to the eternal sunshine and warmth of Australia. I don't know if the end of summer was the trigger or whether that was just a coincidence. I have to admit it's been a difficult few months. I struggled with depression and a treatment program that just seemed to keep making things worse, not better. I wrote a little about this here and here.

It seems I am through the worst of it now and regaining a sense of normalcy. I wonder to what extent the diagnosis of my depression (which was based on an 'educated' guess by a physician unsupported by any objective physiological or neurological indicators) was more a less a self-fulfilling prophecy. Once planted in my mind, it somehow tapped into deep seated insecurities or hurts somewhere inside for fuel to grow, until it began to define me. I allowed a measure of self-responsibility and ownership for my feelings to be taken away and replaced by a 'diagnosis', one that I now challenge. I might write about this a little more some time when there is more distance from the events of the past three months.

Getting off the medication was just horrible. I do not recommend ever taking a drug like Effexor; it is nasty to be on and truly brutal to get off of. There is some indication these drugs can be permanently addictive in that some people simply cannot tolerate the terrible withdrawal side effects and therefore cannot stop taking the drug. I was sick for two weeks after gradually titrating the dose, and I still have the occasional shivers as well as the seemingly permanent tinnitus that begun the day I started taking Effexor. I won't even mention the horrible emotional rollercoaster that also ensued. I'm sure we'll eventually learn more about the damaging effects of this and other SSRI drugs, and discover that far from the panacea they are claimed to be they are toxic chemicals that should never be given to humans.

In any case, this blog has been an important vehicle for me to express myself and dialogue with others. I enjoy posting and want to re-engage with the world. If anyone's reading this, take a look at some of my observations on matters spiritual and political. Feel free to add a comment. And thanks for stopping by!

I'm not entirely convinced, after all, that I'm 'suffering' from depression — as opposed to going through a rough patch emotionally and spiritually, that might be resolved through means other than pharmacological.

Let me state at the outset that the drugs were the worst experience of my life. First Wellbutrin, and then after a week of mental and physical torture from the side effects, the doctor switched me to Effexor — not as bad, but still a rough ride that I wasn't prepared to endure longer than three days. I've done a lot of drugs (both legal and illegal) in my lifetime, including some very bad acid trips. But nothing prepared me for the horrors of SSRI antidepressants.

What the doctors don't tell you when you start treatment on an SSRI, is that the side effects can be so wrenching that the experience can literally leave you feeling more depressed and helpless than when you started out. And even if you stop using the drugs, the side effects can continue for some time afterward. 10 days after stopping Effexor, I still have a constant ringing in the ears about which I'm starting to wonder whether it will ever go away... But at least it's better than the mania, nausea, vomiting, belching, anxiety, headaches and other 'side effects' I experienced while on Wellbutrin. Which was ironic, since the reason I visited my doctor in the first place was due to irritable bowel syndrome, the symptoms of which included nausea, vomiting, belching, anxiety, etc.

I did some research online and found some personal testimonies of lifelong addiction to antidepressants, and some terrible stories about drug treatments that read like experiments on lab rats. As I found myself, a physician will recommend one drug and if that doesn't work (or if the side effects are intolerable) keep trying different drugs, doses or combinations until 'something works'.

It seems that scientists don't really know how these toxic chemicals work to correct the assumed chemical imbalances. And with all the talk of chemical imbalance, you'd think it would be important to actually detect one before offering a diagnosis. But all that is required for a diagnosis is that you answer a short one-page psychological questionnaire in a certain way. Gosh, the patient is exhibiting depressed thoughts, so roll out the prescription pad!

This type of diagnosis seems more quackery than real science. Clearly the drug companies benefit in promoting the idea that 50 million Americans suffer from depression, and the corollary that drug treatment is the answer. 

Personally, I think a lot of people, including me, experience depression because we haven't been able to adjust our expectations too well to reality. A lot of men my age and older go through through 'mid-life crises'. Are these caused by chemical imbalances? Or is it just that modern life can often feel crushing, hurtful and seemingly pointless?

I'm not questioning the existence of real clinical depression in some people. But is it just possible that a good portion of those 50 million depressed Americans are suffering not from a chemical imbalance but from the challenge of living in a difficult and often spirtually bankrupt age?

Sometimes I feel hopelessly depressed because my life doesn't seem to be going where I had hoped, because I feel that I haven't grasped my vocation, that I've missed opportunities and squandered blessings. The despair comes from feeling not loved, or not loving enough, or not understood, or grieving over past hurts and failures. It feels more existential than physical.

Maybe the right pill would cure the symptoms, but would it address the spiritual malaise underneath or just push it further down where it can't disturb me? I want to deal with my demons, to face them and move through them, to learn from them and grow as a result. Maybe a pill will make my life easier, but in flattening out the ridges and valleys might it prevent me from learning and growing from life's challenges?

I'll pass on the chemical lobotomy for now I think. 

I haven't posted for a while. Work has been busy and I've been travelling a lot, so it's hard to stay up with the project of maintaining a blog.

Last week I visited my physician, complaining of a chronic and worsening stomach upset. I came away with a diagnosis of depression and a prescription for Wellbutrin. So the world turns...

It was not entirely a surprise to me, although I would have been the last one to admit the existence of a problem. I always behaved as if depression was an emotional and spiritual issue that others had to deal with. I never saw it (except perhaps in occasional moments of intense gloom) as something I would ever have to deal with.

In retrospect I don't know how I couldn't see it for what it is, especially since I've been exhibiting classical symptoms for some time. I guess we are all blindest to that which is nearest our own eyes.

I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercise; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire: why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.

- Hamlet 

So a new journey begins for me. Hopefully now that my depression is out in the open I'll be able to deal with the monster instead of keeping it bottled up inside. If you read this blog, please pray for my continued journey of healing.

Weekends are fun!

Let's get the mail... 

Time to play...

I'm chuffed — I guess I've now had my five seconds of fame on the real Internet, i.e. somewhere other than this blog.

In the workaday world I'm a security director for an education company that, among other things, delivers IT certification exams. I was recently quoted in InfoWorld's Notes From The Field column on the issue of cheating in certification exams:

A few days after my blurb on the bogus certification site appeared, it was shut down by testing service Pearson VUE. Hotexam and its ilk are related to a Taiwan-based "braindumping" gang, four of whose members were arrested back in 2004, says Mark Poole, VUE security wonk.

Poole says anybody who signs up with one of these "no-study" cert services should have their skulls probed for signs of intelligent life. "Why would you give your personal information and credit card info to a scammer in China?" he asks. "Some people are so stupid it must hurt."

;-p 

A friend forwarded an interesting piece from Friday's New York Times concerning the recent appointment of Rev. Alvin O'Neal Jackson as senior pastor of the Park Avenue Christian Church in Manhattan.

Today is the deadline for an essay due for one of my courses. I've written two pages of a 10-15 page reflection paper. Not so good I suppose. I've been under a lot of pressure lately and have found it hard to concentrate on much more than my nine-to-five job. I'm not going to make the deadline which means I'm not going to get credit for my courses. At least not this year.

I suppose if I had no scruples I could have just cheated and copied someone else's work. Except I have never cheated on a test or assessment in my life, and would never contemplate starting now. Better to accept failure and move forward. Try again and do better next time.

In my day job one of my major responsibilities is to protect computerized testing programs against cheating. So I know something about the psychology of cheating. How people justify it, cover it up, say everyone else is doing it, blame the game rather than themselves.

It's nonetheless shocking however, when someone you love and hold in high esteem betrays himself in this way.

I discovered a couple of months ago that my pastor had downloaded every sermon I'd ever heard him preach from a website and presented them as his own. Every Sunday going back for more than two years...

OK, deconstruction really does work. I just tried it. The following story is dedicated to VL Carey (see previous post).

The temperature reached somewhere around 90 today in the Boston area. I sought refuge in the airconditioned comfort of Starbucks, but decided to return to my room around 7pm. The heat and humidity was almost unbearable, with no rain in sight yet...

I discovered last night that the small electric fan provided in my room was broken (after plugging it into various outlets and shaking it around a few times). So just now I called the on-duty residence coordinator and asked for another fan. I mean, really, not too much to ask. My neighbor got a fan AND a sofa AND a table, all I got was a lousy chair and a small desk.

Anyway, I digress... There were no extra fans available. At this point I could have succumbed to despair (or just checked out of this creaky joint and paid for a hotel room). Instead, I thought: How can I queer this situation?

A closer examination of the broken fan (text of terror) revealed issues (layers of meaning) I had not seen before. What I thought was faulty wiring (God's judgment) was actually a bent cage and a disengaged gear shaft (faulty interpretation)... or whatever that crap that holds the blade to the motor is really called. 

If only I had a screwdriver (sound exegesis) I could remove the cage, unbend it and try to reattach the pieces inside (hermeneutics). Darn, no screwdriver... Anywhere... I tried a spoon, my room key and an old clothes peg (ineffective tools of exegesis). Nope, not coming off.

So, as sweat started to stream down my forehead and into my eyes, my inner lesbian asserted herself. I deconstructed the bloody thing with my bare hands (social location) — with a huge grunt I ripped the front of the cage off with my fingers (may God forgive me). Now with blood dripping from my hand, I reassembled the fan (text) in a manner pleasing to me, plugged it in, and voila...

Five minutes and two bandaids later, a fresh breeze (reading) at last!

As part of the requirements for my Queer Explorations course, I need to keep a daily journal of reflections on the readings, class discussions and assignments. It occurred to me that one way to do this is to enter these reflections into my blog, so that is what I’ll do. At the end of the course I can package them up for submission.

I met another student today and we had dinner together. It was really interesting to hear the story of their journey to MCC and what brought them to EDS to complete their MCC ordination requirements at this time. I look forward to getting to know this student better over the next few weeks and perhaps having the opportunity to share and learn together.

I discovered that my co-student is taking both the Queer Explorations course and the MCC Polity class. MCC Polity covers the governance, structures and unique mission and theology of Metropolitan Community Churches and is another of the requirements for ordination in MCC (in addition to an M. Div. and ordination candidacy).

The polity course is in the afternoons and is only two hours a day for a week, so it is possible to take both programs at the same time, which I didn’t realize when I enrolled a few months back. I decided to make the most of my time here and enroll in that course as well. From what I’m told there may be quite a few students in both classes. Although I expect that most of them, unlike me, have completed their seminary training rather than just being at the start of the process.

I have to admit to a small amount of concern that I might find myself out of my depth here. Will people think of me as an intruder or dilettante? I don't even have a complete baccalaureate degree, let alone a masters degree in Divinity.

But my experience in MCC so far tells me that this type of fear is unwarranted. We are all at different places on our journey with God and the church, but what unites us is our passion for God and for social justice. I have been doing theology in one way or another for twenty years, and keeping this blog the past year or so has helped me sharpen my instincts just a little in this area. I'm going to repent of my feelings of uselessness and unworthiness, trust God and just plunge in. Once you convince yourself, it doesn't matter what other people think.

This morning I arrived at Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, MA for a two week summer program in queer theology and ethics.  The course, starting Monday, is Queer Explorations for Pastoral, Theological and Ethical Issues. It's one of the courses required for ordination in MCC. Unlike most aspiring MCC clergy, I am taking this course before embarking on my M. Div. (which I hope to commence either this fall or next summer). It just happened to fit in nicely with my schedule this year, so I enrolled.

The course will be taught by leading queer theologians and spiritual leaders, including Bob Goss, Mona West, Nancy Wilson and Jim Mitulski. I'm really looking forward to it, although I must admit to some trepidation at having to complete the requirements for course credit.

The school is a few blocks from Harvard. The weather right now is miserable — cold, windy and wet — nothing at all like my last epxerience of New England in June a few years back, when the mercury was in the 90s! I have a huge room all to myself, but hardly a stick of furniture! I didn't really come prepared — now I have to find somewhere to collect a few essentials to make me feel at least a little comfortable the next two weeks (coffee, milk, dishes, etc). Oh well, with the weather shitty, no TV (seriously) and with only my laptop and BlackBerry to distract me, hopefully I'll get plenty of study done... I only have six books to read for class.

Tonight I'm meeting my friend Scott and his wife Kate for cocktails somewhere. No idea what I'll wear since everything in my suitcase is crumpled and I have no iron and no hangers... 

I haven't had much energy to put things into writing lately. I have been dealing with what can only be described as a signicant crisis in the local church to which I belong (and am an elected representative to its board of directors). These events, which revolve around core values such as integrity, truthfulness, inclusiveness and compassion, have been very stressful. I have questioned myself and others repeatedly. Perhaps I'll find the strength to provide a more straightforward explanation at a later time.

At the same time I have also been reading a wonderful new book, Brian McLaren's The Secret Message of Jesus: Uncovering the Truth That Could Change Everything. I'm about halfway through so I don't want to write too much about it until I'm finished. But I have to say that this is one of the most readable and accessible books on the teachings of Jesus I have ever picked up, while at the same time extremely thought provoking and inspirational. This ain't The Da Vinci Code. But if Brian McLaren were taken seriously he might help change the world.

Not that I have nothing interesting to say. Life has just been so hectic this past week and I wouldn't want to write about some of the things going on until I've had time to reflect on them.

Today is International Day Against Homophobia. So I tried not to be homophobic today. So far its been a success...

On my way to Wednesday night worship now.

Oh... And thank you to those of you out there (you know who you are) who have been praying for me. I feel surrounded by love!