"The Health Care Gamble" or "A Nickel versus Twenty Grand"

I find myself in a quandary:

As the West Ohio Conference of the United Methodist Church prepares to gather next week, I'm doing my homework on the recommendations.

On one hand we have Recommendation #1 a resolution on health care. Lines 39 and following state "1.4 million Ohioans have no health insurance and 62% of Ohioans had some experience with being uninsured...Millions more with health coverage are under-insured or reluctant to use their coverage because of high co-payments, deductibles and other cost sharing requirements." This resolution calls us to call upon legislators (state, local, even as high as the UN) to work for health care reform and coverage.

Some of those 1.4 million Ohioans are in my congregation and contribute to the payment of my health insurance premiums. I find myself falling into the millions who are reluctant to use that coverage paid for by the uninsured or under insured because my deductibles are high.

I earnestly believe that we need to do something about health care coverage in our nation. (I don't have any problem when it comes to the intent of this resolution.)

On the other hand there is recommendation #2 a resolution that asks United Methodists to continue saying "No Casinos in Ohio!" Lines 30 and 31 state: "WHEREAS a Mississippi State University study found that in counties with casinos, those earning less than $10,000 per year lost 10% of the family income to casinos..."

I don't gamble personally. I have better things to do with my money. I also recognize, though, that many people are addicted to gambling. However, I don't demonize people who like to go to Argosy or any other place. I don't demonize folks that buy the occasional lottery ticket either.

Here's where I experience tension between these two recommendations: Nowhere in our recommendations is there a mention of asking our conference folks to use their group bargaining power to lower what our congregations are paying for their pastors' health insurance. 2009 rates for pastors' health insurance (family coverage) is $18,336 per year.

It just so happens that that is slightly more than 10% of our church's annual budget (see above statistic on gambling). I would expect that the 2010 rates will be higher than the 2009 rates, too, and as my congregation wheedles down it's budget because of the state of the economy, that means that health insurance coverage will most likely be MORE than 10% of our budget!

It just so happens that my family and I are blessed with health and rarely need to visit the doctor which means that when we do have a need for a visit we pay for most of the cost because of deductibles--which makes us reluctant to use our coverage (see above comment!)

Now, here's my quandary (if you haven't seen it already). We want to say no to casinos, our UM Social Principles state that "gambling is a menace to society, deadly to the best interests of moral, social, economic and spiritual life" and yet we continue to ask our congregations to pay outrageous rates for our group insurance coverage--which is as much of a gamble, if not a more costly one, than a $1.00 lottery ticket or a few tries on a nickel slot.

Prayerfully discerning...

a sower went out to sow

I don't even know how to start...

I've been doing some voluntary outreach ministry with at risk youth and over the last month I've been working with one youth who self-injures (there are lots of details I cannot disclose, suffice it to say that there are so many issues in play here that I am only one part of the puzzle's attempted solution.) I'll call her "Sue."

Last week she had a break down, I got a phone call on our scheduled meeting day saying that she had a huge fight with her mom (which may or may not have gotten physical, I don't know) and that her mom was sending her back to hospital. (which is both good and bad for this particular youth, she needs medication and her parents, for whatever reason, are denying it to her...like I said, lots of issues).

I traded texts with her for quite a while that night and the next morning I get a phone call from her mom telling me that she was calling because Sue wanted her to call me. Mom told me what hospital she was in and that I'd be added to the list of "approved visitors." That was Friday.

today is Tuesday and I'm still not on the list. The only contact I have with the mother is through Sue's cell phone and I'm not getting any response.

So I've been sending notes for the past two days to the hospital, to at least let Sue know that I'm thinking about her and haven't forgotten her.

It's frustrating. This is the point of the whole note. I'm frustrated. I spent part of my Sabbath talking to this girl's mother, specifically asking if she was okay with me going to see Sue--if I had been told no, I would have accepted that, not happily, but at least I would have known how mom felt. But I wasn't told no I was told yes and that I'd be added to the list and now my hands are tied. The hospital won't even let me talk to Sue on the phone; won't call Mom on my behalf. I'm frustrated. I want to say something in my notes to Sue, but I'm afraid of being a source of anxiety or distress when what she really needs is healing.

So please, pray for "Sue" for me. Pray for the family and pray that I can find peace in all of this, and that ultimately God's will be done--even if it means I'm stuck in the distance with no idea at all of what's going on. (sometimes being trusted with sowing seeds and not knowing how they sprout is the hardest thing of all...)

Holy Mounds of Snow, Batman!

What a kooky week! Four days with the kids at home, several inches of snow and some ice thrown in to boot! Makes me think of the Batman TV show from wayback when Robin would bust out a "Holy mounds of snow, Batman!"

But more than just the snow, there's been other bits of craziness that's turned my heart to deep, seeking prayer (I can't share any more about the craziness, but rest assured life in the Dawson house is as "normal" as it can be; we're fine, I'm fine, "everything is fine here, thank you. how are you?"). As I look at and feel the pain of others around me, I remember the prayers of the psalmists throughout the ages who have asked, "How long, O Lord? How Long?" and I understand why Paul says that there are times when the Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.

Mother Teresa says that love sweeps the stains from the streets and lanes, and because it can, it must. And as I reflect on her life and ministry, I see a woman so devoted to Christ that she would serve sacrificially even in those times when she felt spiritually numb. (BTW this is not a way of saying that I feel this way, just a reflection on her own devotion knowing all of the stains she saw in her life.) She gives me hope that we can continue to sow seeds every day no matter what.

Sometimes being trusted to simply sow seeds can be a very frustrating task, especially when you yearn to see sprouts in specific places. And yet all I/we can do is continue to demonstrate Christ's love to them and pray for the Holy Spirit to water the seeds that we leave.

On a more positive note: I managed to get all of my writing done for the board of ordained ministry, so now I just wait for my interview with the board. it's a relief to be past the writing; the waiting I'll deal with and thinking (and re-thinking and second-thinking) is something I'm trying to avoid.

Veni, Sancte Spiritus!

(Come, Holy Spirit! )

praying mantis

Praying mantis on my rear window
buffeted by the wind
hunkers down, holds on
prostrate in the gale
hands never stop praying.

Praying mantis on my rear window
looks at me when car stops
"you gave it your best
I'm still here"
hands never stop praying.

and now for something...silly

because, we all deserve a little silliness...

set apart

I have come to the realization that my vocation is a very lonely place. As friendly as I may be with my parishoners, as much as I may love them, as many experiences as we may share, I will always be "the pastor." I will always be the one who is scrutinized. I will always be the one who gets to receive the hot end of anger when there is no one else give it to.

For the last two years I have had a partner in my ministry. His job was to lead our Hispanic ministry. We had a wonderful relationship, both professionally and personally. The ministry was hugely successful. We had 40 people worshiping in their native Spanish language; we had 25 people in small groups during the week. Momentum was growing; leaders were emerging. The work was good. Last Sunday he and his wife came into my office and resigned with no notice. "After today we will not be back. God is calling us away from the [insert mainline label here] Church."

I was supposed to be off last week. I got a few hours away with my family screaming it out at King's Island on Monday. That was it. I am glad that I got to spend that time with my family, especially my children, before they went back to school on Thursday. I'm realizing that family is what I have on this road; family, friends who don't know me as "Pastor Daniel," and God. Other than that, I am alone. I've heard other pastor friends express the loneliness of this life, but until recently I didn't really understand why.

That may seem incredibly harsh to some, but it's the truth. When you are "set-apart" there are things you just have to do. I had to lead my congregation in lamentation this morning and I had to try to answer questions I had no answer to. I haven't even finished my own grieving, I haven't even had my own questions answered, but today was not for me. Today was for the 140 people who gathered seeking answers to questions, seeking balm for wounded spirits. For some the experience was healthy and gladly received. For others, not so much.

What I did not know was that, for one small group in the church, the rumor mill had already kicked into gear and a "counter-narrative" had already set in among those members. As I stood there trying to help my congregation grieve I had a target on me that I didn't even know about. Some members have been told that I violated confidence, that I knew beforehand that my partner in ministry and his wife were trying to discern God's will and that I outed him to his, and my, supervisory peers--causing the connection to remove him from his leadership role. There is nothing farther from the truth. But for those who had bought into the narrative, I was nothing but a liar.

I spent all week trying to craft something that would help people grieve and heal...and when it was all over I felt beaten up, I felt untrusted, but more than anything I felt alone.

As I sift through the rubble of this event, I feel so very alone. I'm tired of dumping on my wife and kids, but they still listen. I'm tired of dumping on my colleagues, but they still listen, too. I look to the heavens and ask God, "Why this? Why now?" but the only answer is silence in return.
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I keep hearing this song in my head. A song that says, "I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known...I walk alone, I walk alone" But there's this song that we sang in worship this morning (one of the old, old hymns from our early service) that keeps rolling in my heart to counter the one looping in my head. This one says, "Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way! Wounded and weary, help me I pray! Power, all power, surely is thine! Touch me and heal me, Savior divine!"

roller coasters, redistribution, and sleep deprivation

last week was vacation bible school. we registered 115 children and averaged 82 every night. the energy was incredible; we are calling it a huge success. we managed to collect over 850 school supplies to redistribute to families in the community in the weeks before school starts. we also raised enough money in coins and crumpled dollar bills to buy some live stock for families in poverty in other communities so that they can also practice redistribution. (check out Heifer International if you don't know what i'm talking about).

in the midst of that week i had one church member end up in the hospital with a fractured pelvis (not as a result of vbs) and i had another member's child accidentally o.d. by intentionally abusing other people's prescription drugs. he was clinically dead for about five minutes, resuscitated, and is (thankfully) physically and mentally fine(meaning no brain damage) despite it all. the family is a wreck, though.

we also had a parent of one of the children in our summer childcare program gift the church with about 50 cases of cereal. not 50 boxes. 50 cases. so we began the art of redistribution. took about 8 cases to another church that has a summer lunch program for the community--they also redistribute the food given to them to the families that come to eat lunch. took another 8-10 cases to another local church's childcare center. i think she was expecting 8 to 10 boxes because she looked ready to cry when i started off loading 8 to 10 cases of cereal. when this happens i sometimes think that God is saying to us that food is part of what we're supposed to being doing.

but as i was driving around town sharing food and trying to practice the mystery of presence i began to think about church. i'm a visual person, and i love food, so i began to see broken bread scattered around my community; fragments of wafer here, fragments of wafer there; crumbs all across the collage of life.

i never used to get the benediction at the close of worship that goes something like, "our time for worship has ended; our time for being church has just begun." this past week i started to get a glimpse of "church" in my community. we think of church as that one hour a week we spend in song and silence on Sunday--we even label it as the destination ("we've got to go to church on Sunday"). we teach our children that the church is the place, not the people--folded hands, "this is the church"...pointed index fingers, "this is the steeple"...unfold hands, "open the doors and here are the people."

this week church is helping a family grieve the passing of husband/dad/papaw...helping two other families celebrate their coming together in the covenant of marriage. i'm living on a spiritual and emotional roller coaster and so very grateful that God is keeping my cart on the track...even though waking up unexpectedly at 4:00 a.m. this morning has got me wondering how sturdy the glue is today.

and yet my mind still sees broken bread scattered across my community--crumbs of grace dropped all across the collage of life--and i know that church is roller coasters, redistribution, and occasional sleep deprivation, because without these we might forget that God is holding it all together with crumbs of grace, we might actually think it was by our own power that church happens, and--God forbid--church might actually go back to just being a building we socialize in.