ah... me time...

We made it to Maine in plenty of time for dinner. We took the scenic route along the coast from New hampshire on up; a short walk along Ogunquit Beach; then home to Mum and Dad for dinner. I thought I'd blog you a few more details about our ocean-side adventures, but Mum and Dad have dial-up and it's taken forever just to get this far. I'm reminded of the ads on TV of the Slowskys. Maine is just a little bit slower than Chicago.

happy christmas

Hi from Boston! The flight in was slightly delayed at O'Hare, but otherwise uneventful. Saw most of the family today, and a few good friends at our old parish. Tomorrow K and I will head up to Maine to spend a few days with the parents. Of course we'll head to the Olde Port in Portland, and to Bull Feeney's, my favourite little pub for lunch (sorry, no web site - you'll just have to go and experience it for yourself). The local papers also feature similar pubs. I'd love to try them all, but I think there won't be time. Also we're planning to spend the time there with Mum and Dad, and walking all around Portland is not their idea of a good time. Ah well. They'd definitely enjoy walking Portsmouth, NH, though. It's a little flater and smaller. Maybe we can talk them into going there too. There's a little restaurant by the waterfront that Dad and I love... good chowda... and beeah.

I feel perfectly free to let the Boston accent fly when I'm home, even if K gives me that rolling-eyes look and smirk. It's nice to talk right for a change ;-)

worst nightmare/ Christmas miracle

Picture it: fourth Sunday in Advent. The season has thusfar gone along just swimmingly. You process in to the 8:00 service just ahead of the presider. Reverence the altar. Part. Take your usual place. As you settle yourself into the start of the service, you open your service leaflet and read, "Preacher: YOU." That's right, you. You didn't know you were preaching today. That's what happened to me this morning. Are you getting that sinking feeling reading this? I'm getting it from the retelling.

At first I thought it was a type-o. Just in case, I scanned the lessons. Next thing I know the presider is reading the gospel. (How time flies!). As he walked back from the center aisle our eyes met. I thought for a moment he would continue to walk to the pulpit. He gave me a kind, yet oblivious smile, and returned to his seat. I stepped into the barren pulpit, devoid of anything of help to me. What was once a tiny wooden stall, was now a vast wasteland of wood paneling. The congregation of perhaps 25-30 was patiently standing, waiting for the customary pre-sermon prayer and invitation to sit and hear a customarily great St. Matthew's sermon.

I gave the pre-sermon prayer. Unbeknownst to anyone else, it was the deepest, most heartfelt prayer for guidance and grace anyone has ever, or will ever, give. The congregation sat. I thought to myself, here goes, and said, "I have a couple thoughts and a question." With that I stepped out of the pulpit and crossed to the center aisle. I said that because of the writers' strike I had decided (and by "had decided," I meant just that very second) that as a Teamster, I would stand in solidarity with my sisters and brothers and not write a manuscript for this sermon. They laughed. I said that because of the strike, we were all subjugated to having to watch scriptless reality TV. I hate reality TV because it's so not real. They laughed. I talked about a show (I think it's not on anymore) called The Swan, where the subject is hidden away for a time, and undergoes a complete transformation - of her outside (cosmetic surgery, makeover, and so forth). I said that Advent is a time for transforming our insides. Mary was in a similar place, but her transformation was happening quite literally on the inside. Her transformation is our transformation. There was some other stuff too, but I can't remember it. Anyways, I ended by asking them all, what kinds of inside transformations are happening to them during Advent, in this place of waiting, while Jesus is hidden away for a time. Then I sat down.

People seemed to be attentive. There were reactions, both verbal and non-verbal, that were encouraging. Immediately I tried to remember what I had said so that I could repeat it for the 10:30 service. I couldn't recall anything. This account is only bits and pieces of it.

At the Peace, the presider came up to me and said I'd hit another one out of the ballpark. A couple members of the congregation also complimented me on it. *WHEW* Then the best part - the Christmas miracle: we had the pageant today... so no 10:30 sermon! Off the hook.

I'm really good at taking notes - ask anybody. Nowhere in my staff meeting notes does it say I'd be preaching this day. I checked my e-mail records - nothing. This was totally sprung on me. Not fair. Bad form. Thank God I think fast on my feet. Thank God for the Holy Spirit's presence. I managed to pull this one off with a wild card topic that I could have used just about anytime of year. I'm fresh out of wild cards now. That said... I never ever want this to happen to me again... ever.

Gordon Ramsay and family systems

I'm watching "Kitchen Nightmares" on TV. It's a spin off of the reality show "Hell's Kitchen," where chef Ramsay puts the participants through a rigorous - hellish - ordeal until the winner, the last one remaining, gets an amazing career opportunity. I'm more interested in the recipes than the reality stuff. I certainly have no interest in watching Ramsey berate the participants. But this new show interests me in a unique way.

This episode takes place in a restaurant just outside New York: The Mixing Bowl. There are three main players: the chef/owner, the wife/owner, and the manager. There are also cameos of waitresses. The whole business has lost its energy. They're mediocre in the neighborhood. Where at one point they were one of a small few restaurants, now they're one of forty-odd eateries. There's nothing that makes this place stand out from all the rest. The chef has lost the fire and passion of being a chef. The wife has thought the restaurant should have closed long ago. The manager might be called the "identified patient." He's the anxious presence that sets many others off.

Ramsay spends a week with the the Mixing Bowl, first dining, then observing their operations, then making changes. In the course of the week, there is reluctance, sabotage, and blame, until finally the breakthrough. The restaurant has been given a makeover, the menu has been revised, and the staff - all of them, including the wait staff in cameo, admit that the changes to the business had to come only after they made changes in themselves. Two months later the cameras return to see the progress, and lo and behold, the place is still hopping, profiting, and everyone is happy and passionate about food once again.

I've been so deep into leadership stuff that it's coloured the way I see everything lately. I watched this show from a leadership perspective, and wondered how the same concept would work in a struggling parish. Picture it...

The rector has lost his or her passion. The anxious presence on the vestry gets everyone riled up. The congregation is disempowered. The average Sunday attendance drops. They're on the verge of closing - even a vestry member thinks it should have closed long ago. What can be done to save this church?

I can easily see how family systems theory is at work in "Kitchen Nightmares." I can easily see how the changes Ramsay made in the system at The Mixing Bowl could correlate with systems changes in a parish. The question that lingers for me is: what would a makeover look like for a struggling parish? Is it even feasible to consider such a move in a church context? Maybe not. Getting the players - be they restaurateurs or parishioners - to discover that system-wide changes need to begin first within themselves is probably the real makeover.

I don't necessarily agree with Ramsay's leadership style. It's not my style. Admittedly, he is far more "pastoral," if I may use that word here, in this show than he is in the other. But in the way I watched this show tonight, that's largely beside the point. I could do a whole leadership assessment of this episode and its potential application to congregational development. If I showed this episode to Colonel Habel, Captain Ross, or Sergeant Angulo back at Camp Pendleton, I bet we could talk at length about the leadership methods that were put into play. I wonder how I can use this show, or at least this episode, in my thesis.

have cassock, will travel

I've begun the process of seeking a call in a parish. The bishop here has given me permission to seek calls in other dioceses. I've been in touch with deployment officers about open positions in several places: 3 in Maine; 1 in Vermont; 2 in Michigan; 3 in Western Michigan; 3 in Iowa (one is a 2-parish yoke); 1 in Northwestern Pennsylvania; 1 in Chicago; and something might develop in Los Angeles, but nothing is on paper yet. I began this process a few weeks ago and since then this list has been narrowed - 1 in Maine is no longer accepting names; 1 in Western Michigan won't work out after all, but another has surfaced that I really like a lot (hint hint -- you may begin praying now); and Northwestern Pennsylvania is out.

I like the way Heidi shared her call search, so I'm going to follow suit by not giving out any parish names just yet. I'll find some way of describing them to you without giving away anything. I'm tapping nearly every person in my network to get things going a little faster. Two seniors have already accepted positions. I'm happy for them but it makes me feel anxious. I'd really really like to have something in place in the next couple months. I dread the thought of lingering over the summer waiting for something. Light a candle for me.

return engagement

I'm still on a high from the trip. Even snow, slush, and freezing rain can't get me down. There was more to the story than what I posted last time. It was becoming an epic blog post though, so I thought I'd hold off a bit. Diane and I made arrangements for a return trip at the end of February. She's going to fly me in to do a day-long spirituality retreat. And better still... (because it always seems to get better still)... she's going to fly me in a couple days early so I can go to Disneyland for a day! HA! How 'bout that? "Wow, Laurel, you just got another trip to California in the dead of Midwestern winter. What are you going to do now?" "I'm goin' to Disneyland." Then, I'm going to lead a rockin' retreat on Lenten spiritual disciplines for a day. Everyone's a winner. And that thought, gentle readers, makes all the snow, slush, and freezing rain go away.

yesterday and today

Friday December 7 - day four - last day:
We had a leisurely coffee this morning as we weren't going to go to the church today. Today is Diane's day off. Yesterday was her study day. That's how she could spend so much time with me. We toured the area and saw the devastation from "the burn," the wildfires of a few weeks ago. There are still some homes in valleys that are on mandatory evacuation because now that there are no trees or other root systems to keep the earth down, the risk of mudslides now replaces fire. It rained last night, which, though I would have preferred otherwise, this drought-stricken place ideally needs it. But there's not much to water anymore. Quite a situation.

Had lunch with Bonnie, a former parishioner-turned parish administrator-turned transitional deacon, at this neat dim sum place nearby. I think Diane tried to gross me out with duck and chicken feet. It was a noble effort... but please. I needn't remind my gentle readers of the gross stories from my EMT days. Lunch was very good - no feet. As the waiter was bringing the customary pot of tea, Diane asked for a different kind of tea that was more customary and more authentic for Chinese people having dim sum. I forget the words she used but it was made with chrysanthemum flowers. I laughed out loud when I heard this. Raisin, if you're reading this, you were right there with me. I told the story of howitzer, chrysanthemum, and exsanguinate from our early seminary days. After lunch Bonnie took us on a tour of her church nearby. We left her there and made our way to John Wayne Airport by way of a heritage park.

By now the sun was out and the palm trees - my beloved palm trees - were swaying in the warn coastal breezes. The airport was a snap to get through. O'Hare, with its bad lighting and crowds, construction and drafty walkways, was not exactly inviting in a southern California kind of way. Ah well. It's still good to be home.

Today:
I woke up to a beautiful blanket of almost-pristine white snow covering the backyard. The pine trees in the Dean's yard have puffy white pillows of snow clinging to the branches. The air is cold and crisp, but clean-smelling. It's a quiet Saturday morning on a seminary campus nearing the end of its first semester. I can almost hear the hundreds of pages turning on the catch-up reading.

I have those pictured I promised.

















I'm leavin' on a jet plane.






















First impression.

















St. Clement's-by-the-sea at sunset. Diane is not too keen on the flag outside the church, but she does deal with a significant number of military folk, so it stays. Her deacon identifies himself as a "peacenick" and has objected to having a service to celebrate the Marine Corps birthday. But I think he realized there are bigger issues in play here, and an important ministry to be held.























A small side yard with memorial garden.























My most favoritest flower ever. They grow like weeds around here.























Diane's house, where I stayed, in Irvine. She lives about 20 miles from the church.


















You've seen the view from my windows, now the view from Diane's kitchen window. Yep, that's a swimming pool. Yep, that's a palm tree. Yep, that's Spanish tile. Yep, it's as warm as it looks.























This is I think the first missionary church in the area. It's in the heritage park we toured. That's Diane going up the stairs.


















What I'm guessing was the first SUV.

















Look, more "weeds".


















Along with palm trees and weeds, there's also quite a variety of cacti. Careful! They're sharp.























You can clearly see the line where the burn took place. That's why everything looked so brown to me when I first got there. I got lots of pictures of the affected area, but this one really shows the green that it typically is, compared to the burned out hillsides. The fire came within a mile of Diane's house.


















Back to the Block...


















...and to this view. Saturday morning at Seabury.

days two and three

Didn't have internet access yesterday.

Got Interview?

I’m greeted with pink and blue sunrises out my bedroom window, through the palm trees, in the mornings. I’ll explore the back yard of the Rectors house with my coffee this morning. I’m not actually in Los Angeles. I’m in the southernmost town in the Diocese of Los Angeles, San Clemente. The rector’s home is about 20 miles away in Irvine.

Yesterday I interviewed a former female Marine. She loved the Corps and longs to be there again. She and her Marine husband made the choice to marry and have children, and she knew she couldn’t be both a Marine and mom, so when her time was up she left. She regaled me with fond memories of her experiences as a sergeant, both as a leader and one who was led. She currently works for the man behind the “Got milk?” ad campaign. She has found he things she learned in the Marine Corps have been extremely beneficial to her civilian life. She tells me that active duty Marines are likely to answer questions in a yes/no style. They will need to be coaxed to share freely, if at all. Good to know.

Later yesterday afternoon I spoke with a commander in the Navy - another female. Formerly active duty and about to retire, she’s been brought back to the reserves while we fight a war on terror. She has 23 years of military experience. She characterizes herself as jaded to the Navy. She shared some difficult stories of her experience of Navy leadership. She also spent some time as an enlisted person in the Air Force, where she says she learned far more about leadership than she has as a Naval officer. She was more interested in specific, rather than open ended questions. Once we got warmed up, she shares with me anecdotal stories about her leadership and the leadership he experienced that answered my questions nicely. She is highly intuitive, and when I pointed that out to her, her body language totally changed. She was more…um….disarmed…vulnerable. That’s when she shared the difficult stories. It’s interesting how close to the surface pain can be carried. I’m glad she sat down with me. It was very helpful.

Tomorrow I go to Camp Pendleton. I’ll speak with the base commander, some captains, lieutenants, and upper-level NCOs. I’m particularly interested in the sergeants who work with new recruits to make them Marines. I’d like to get a clearer understanding of how small group leaders approach their specific mission; how leaders of clusters of small units organize several missions into one, and how the base commander leads many, many small missions to achieve the goal of the collective Corps mission. I spoke with him on the phone yesterday, and we’re both looking forward to meeting and talking today.

Have camera. Will travel. Pictures on the way.

Thursday December 6:

Went to Camp Pendleton today. What a long drive. We have to use the south entrance, which is significantly further south than the closest entrance. Ah well. It was worth the wait. Three wonderful interviews: Colonel Habel, Regimental Commander, marine Recruit Training Depot; Captain Ross, Operations Officer; Sergeant Angulo, Drill Instructor. Before the interviews began I got to sit with the senior officers in the VIP viewing area to watch the ceremony where 600 men were given their Eagle Globe and Anchor and became Marines. Very cool. The last question I asked got the best answer ever.

Question: “What core values would you like the civilian world to embrace?”

Answer: “I wish they wouldn’t be so selfish. If one person didn’t know something and another person did, I wish that person would share that knowledge, and not keep it to himself. I would like them to always seek to better themselves, to improve, to learn.”

He answered this question from the bottom of his heart. I was so touched, and moved by this. What a wonderful way to end a day of interviewing.

These guys are so passionate about leadership. They each experienced a time when they had to follow a bad leader, and they described it in similar terms. They took it personally. Because the Marines put such a high value on effective leadership that it hurts them when it goes bad. The Colonel told me a story about several lieutenants who wanted to quit the Marines because the leader of their unit was so bad. The Colonel, at the time, was the officer in between those lieutenants and the leader that was bad. That’s how passionate these people are about leadership. He was able to cushion the impact of the leader to a good extent and the lieutenants stayed in the Corps. It’s inspiring, no?

My Rector friend was with me for most of the interviews and came away with new ideas too. We both share a similar passion for leadership as the Marines, though specific to the church and its parish and diocesan communities. Both our minds were quickly trying to figure out where the parallels are between the Marine Corps ethos and the Episcopal Church ethos, and how we could translate (for lack of a better term - import?) the effective dynamics from them to us.

Very tired tonight. Lots of driving. Still have to attend the weekly Martini Club. Then dinner. Then drive back to Irvine. Then bed. Tomorrow I’ll get a tour of the burn areas; lunch with another clergy member; airport; home. Beautiful as it is here, I miss Chicago and Ev’tn.

day one

Tuesday December 4

Arrived safely at John Wayne Airport In Orange County. Smog looks exactly the way it sounds. The damaged area from what they call “the burn” - last month’s wildfires - is extensive. Everything is brown. It’s unbelievable how many acres were taken.

The weather is sunny, warm, high 60s/low 70s.

I toured St. Clement’s-by-the-sea then had a little down time, so I walked to the beach. I got lost trying to find the beach access. A surfer came by and let me follow him. We went through what looked like someone’s private property. He said that the town had tried to close that access, but it didn’t work. Now they’ve got a high hedgerow between the dirt pathway and the driveways. One the beach I walked around for about 2 hours. The beach sand is perfect temperature for bare feet. The sky is unbelievably blue, with wave after wave of brilliant white seagulls with black tips on the ends of their wing flying by in V-formation. The beach is almost empty except for a few walkers. There are surfers in groups here and there in the water. The air is still and smells magnificently of sea salt. I can’t hear any traffic noise from the streets high above, past the cliffs. A different surfer approached me later. “This is kind of an unorthodox question I know… but could you help me get the zipper up on my wet suit? The pull just broke off. The water will be really cold.” I obliged. “Thanks,” he said. “Stoked.” Stoked will be my word for the day. The beach was awesome. I called all my friends while standing in the Pacific Ocean. It wasn’t as cold as everybody says it is. In fact it felt warmer than the Atlantic off the coast of Maine. I don’t know how anybody can stand it. I learned how to swim off the coast of Maine when I was little. We had a saying about tolerating the cold: once you’re numb you can stay in for hours. Anyhoo, I collected San Clemente Beach to add to my beach collection. So far I’ve got Ogunquit, Maine; Tobacco Bay, Bermuda; and now San Clemente, CA. Found the perfect picture for this year’s Christmas cards: decorated Christmas tree with palm tree in the background. I watched surfers from a very long pier. The foam from the breakers looked purple in the late afternoon sun. There was a bum sleeping at the end of the pier. Perfect place for a nap. The sunset looked just like all the pictures of California sunsets I’ve ever seen. I’m reminded of the album cover of the Eagles Hotel California. Everywhere I go the sky looks different. I don’t know why that is, but it is. The sky in Arlington, Massachusetts is different from the sky in Oswego, New York, which is different than the sky in London, England, which is different than the sky here.

Later: dinner with Women’s Book Group hosted by a non-parishioner, but Episcopal ally and fan of Diane, the rector of St. Clement’s-by-the-sea, and sponsor of my trip here. Note to self: create a file for Diane to include details of her leadership style. I can’t say enough about her. What an awesome role model. I’d do well if I could master half the stuff she does well. Thankfully her sense of direction sucks. She can’t have all the talents and gifts.

Tomorrow: interview, lunch, interview, free time, “martini club,” dinner, learning more from Diane.

Dunno if I'll have internet access. Pictures later.

a story to ponder

I've been thinking about a story I heard over the weekend. I'm sure it's a variation of the original story, but still, there's lots to ponder. Thought I'd share.

Once when the rains came it began to flood. Streets became rivers and fields became lakes. Everyone in the village fled to dry ground as quickly as they could. As Frog was making her way out of the village to cross the waters she came upon Scorpion standing by the water's edge. Scorpion said, "I cannot cross the waters because I cannot swim. I will drown if I try. Frog thought for a moment and said, "I'll let you ride on my back and carry you to dry ground if you promise not to sting me." Scorpion said, "I promise." Frog turned her back, Scorpion climbed on, and they set off across the wide waters. When dry ground was finally in sight Frog felt a burning stab in her back. As the two sank to their deaths, Frog asked Scorpion, "Why did you sting me?" Scorpion said, "It's my nature."

oh boy... homework!

I'm cramming away at this Leadership Chapter of my thesis, hoping to get it done - or at least in a more "done" state - before I leave for L.A. Part of my argument is that there is a model of leadership for virtually any leaders' personality or leadership type. I reference the athletic leadership model - utilizing sports imagery to convey goals; leadership based on observations of the natural world - pointing to the ways nature organizes itself; and so forth. Then I came across this little gem (and more specifically this). Hhhmmmmmm.... how can I get an all-expense-paid trip to Florida to attend a workshop? I can drag my heels on this chapter and keep working on it indefinitely if I have to. I'm doing an independent study on leadership in the Spring semester. Obviously the work in that independent study can only be enhanced with Walt's offerings. Let us imagine for a moment, gentle readers, how cool that would be.