September 2020 – As with many of you, this past summer continued, for me, to be nothing at all like what I had expected or envisioned at the beginning of 2020… trips and plans were canceled and interactions with others were restricted to online gatherings. While I am thankful for the virtual option, it does not, and nor should it, compare with enjoying in-person community with others! 

One of my biggest disappointments involved the 124th annual Boston Marathon, which I was supposed to have run on April 14, 2020. I found out that I had qualified for the race in September 2019 (by only 13 seconds!) and started to train in earnest at the beginning of January 2020. By mid-March, I was well on track to hit the personal goals I had set for myself. At that point, the reality of COVID caused the world to come to a screeching halt, and all of my “hard work” quickly came to an end. 

Yes, the Boston Marathon was quickly rescheduled for September 14th , meaning that, in theory, I would restart my training at the beginning of June. However, by mid-spring, I knew in my heart that this was not going to happen. I was not going to be able to run in one of the world’s premier races, and who knew if I would ever be able to qualify again? Yes, I was aware that not being able to participate in the Boston Marathon was quite minor in comparison to the number of people who were dying (and would die), as well as the devastating impact COVID was having, and would continue to have, on the world (physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, financially, and more). Thus, when the September 14th inperson race date was officially cancelled at the end of May 2020 and replaced by a “virtual” race, I thought I was fairly at peace with what had happened. “Really, it is no big deal; it’s just a race,” I told myself and others. 

And yet, the moment the registration for the “virtual” race became an option, I quickly signed up because, truth be told, I discovered that my pride was at stake! If I ran the 26.2 miles (anywhere I wanted) between September 5-14, 2020, I would complete something to which I had committed. Plus, I would receive the t-shirt and racing bib I would have received if I had completed the “real” race back in April. Yes, it is amazing what one will do for a tshirt. What is even more amazing is the lesson I learned from God in the process! 

Now, one might think that training for a “virtual” race would be easier than training for a “real” in-person race, because the pressure of racing against others would no longer be a factor. I just needed to complete the race. However, what I discovered several weeks into training for the virtual race is that, when I thought that I didn’t have the accountability to anybody or anything, not only did my training suffer, but this attitude generally impacted other aspects of my life. For example, cutting corners by running fewer miles, getting less sleep, or not stretching as much was mirrored in putting off calling a friend, not cleaning the house as thoroughly, or neglecting to weed the garden. I found that the sense of hopelessness and anger COVID had instilled in my training was like a fog, seeping into every other aspect of my life. 

About a month ago, on the day I set out to do my longest training run for the race, I left the house mad… mad because the weather was miserably hot and humid (after all, it was August in Georgia!), mad when I ran by others because they had no idea how far I had to run or why I was putting myself through all of this, mad at myself for being mad…until I passed by another runner who simply smiled and said, “You’ve got this!” 

At that very moment, my attitude noticeably changed, from one of anger and frustration to a sense of calming peace. In fact, I found God’s small, quiet voice saying to me, “Karen, you know that what you do matters to you, to others, and to me. Even when you think no one is watching, you know that I am with you.” That led me to think about what kind of steward I was being, with my body, soul, time, attitude, money, and more, during this continued period of disruption, a time when we yearn for just an inkling of normalcy in our lives. By the time I got back from my 20-mile run, I was physically exhausted, but emotionally and spiritually renewed. September starts the beginning of the new school year (in whatever form that is taking in your area!). Even though I have been out of school for a while, I find this season still brings with it a sense of expectation and beginning, and invites me to take stock and reflect. 

In that spirit, I want to challenge us all to consider: 

• What are some things we are currently doing “in secret” that are not glorifying to God, neighbor, or self? 

• What are some ways that we can love God more fully, neighbor more fully, and self more fully – not only bringing honor and glory to God and without drawing attention to ourselves, but also instilling greater joy and peace in our own lives? 

As my fellow runner told me on that hot August day, “You’ve got this!” Indeed, especially in the face of ongoing challenges, let’s take these words to heart. You’ve got this. I’ve got this. By God’s grace, together, we’ve all got this. 

Peace,
Karen Webster

“I the Lord test the mind and search the heart, to give to all according to their ways, according to the fruit of their doings.”

Jeremiah 17:10

This summer Healthy Seminarians-Healthy Church has the wonderful opportunity for Lucas Mburu, a 2nd year MATS student at CTS, to complete a part-time supervised ministry with us in partnership with Columbia Presbyterian Church. Lucas’ internship focuses on “Building Flourishing Communities,” an area where he holds great passion and aspires to carry forth after completing his studies.

Lucas has served as a pastor in the Presbyterian Church in Kenya since 2013.  Currently his family (wife and two children) are living in Nairobi, Kenya. Earlier this summer, Karen Webster, HSHC executive director, sat down with Lucas and asked him to share his perspectives on health and wholeness as they relate to seminarians and clergy and what similarities and differences he observes between the US and Kenya.  To Karen’s surprise, Lucas told her that clergy must have a heart condition!

Learn more about this “heart condition” and what Lucas shared below in their Q&A session.

How would you define health, wellbeing, and wholeness?
Growing up I was socialized to think that the terms “health,” “wellbeing,” and “wholeness” meant the same and could be used interchangeably.  A person was healthy, well, or whole if they were not sick or did not depict any sign of hurting physically.  Happiness, productivity, and complaints were used by society to judge people’s health; however, health was interpreted mainly as the absence of physical sickness.

As my worldview grew, I discovered that it was naive to imagine humans as merely physical beings and to see health as solely the absence of physical sickness.  Seeing health in only one way is a denial that humans are complex beings.  Who we are is deeply shaped by our traditions and narratives, which give meaning to our lives and impacts our overall health and wellbeing. 

What do you think it means to be a healthy seminarian?
A healthy seminarian is able to perceive and discern several things with an open mind: their calling; their environment, their time, and God’s love for them as they relate physically, emotionally, socially, rationally, and spiritually within their environment.  Each of these dimensions are important indicators of health and wholeness.

What would you consider to be a healthy clergy person?
A clergy person’s environment is extremely demanding, more so than seminarians, as it drains them physically, emotionally, socially, rationally, and spiritually.  Having served as a pastor, my interpretation of a healthy clergy person begins with an understanding of God’s love that was revealed in Jesus Christ.  They are convinced that the love of God needs nothing to qualify it apart from what God has already done in the person of Jesus Christ.  They are called into God’s on-going work, which requires love for God, neighbor, and self.  They see their ministry as an intertwined relationship of these three without jeopardizing one for the other.     

A healthy clergy person portrays a heart condition that embraces time for God, neighbor, and self.  This heart condition should recognize the relationship between these three as interconnected, necessary, and a challenge to maintain. 

What you describe sounds different from the heart conditions many of us are accustomed to thinking about (heart attacks, murmurs, leaky values, etc.).  Tell me more!
This kind of heart condition involves a clergy person’s ability to see service to any of the three (God, neighbor, and self) as important because service to one cannot be done separately from the other.  Healthy clergy are able to balance their commitment to each of these aspects in their lives.

Do you have any other thoughts about what it means to be a healthy seminarian and clergy person?
I have grappled with this question subconsciously, but not in detail.  Sometimes I find myself in deep thought about burnout and frustrations that burdened my fellow seminarians and ministers.  Sometimes I feel as if I am an unhealthy seminarian and clergy person.  My traditions and narratives surrounding seminarians and clergy stereotypically imply that they enjoy a divine relationship, which privileges and burdens them in different ways than lay people. This relationship privileges them with good health irrespective of their context.  I suspect this stereotypical view is shared by both clergy and laity.  This view leaves clergy and seminarians devoid of wholeness because it does not recognize humanity and vulnerability.  I think the health of seminarians and clergy persons needs to be prioritized during their study and while serving as ministers.      

What have you observed during your time in the US as it relates to clergy health and well-being?
One major difference I have observed is the communal way in which people in my country live compared to the individual way people live in the US. 

I have not seen in the US intentional time set aside for people to fellowship with their pastors nor time set aside by the congregation to care for the well-being of their clergy.  Also, in Kenya we have organized fellowship between clergy that encourages the use of holidays, celebrations, and further learning. 

In the US, the relationship I see between a pastor and their congregation is being played out as employees and employers.  Pastoring is seen as individual work, which isolates clergy by discouraging the congregation’s involvement in the church work and prevents them from building relationships with their pastor.  This employee-employer relationship does not recognize the important part that community plays in individual health, especially their social and emotional well-being.

Any final thoughts?
Though people have various ways of defining health depending on their context, this belief does not preempt the possibility of a common thread.  Based on the scripture, “You shall love your God … …, and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27), I suggest that this common thread is a relationship between the community of God, neighbor, and self.  The healthier the thread, the healthier one’s health.  One’s vocational calling is a cyclic web from God to neighbor to self. Investing time and resources in safeguarding the health of these relationships is essential to our calling.  

You can learn more about Lucas here.

Trail Notes – June 2020

June, 2020 – I clearly remember the day when I interviewed for the Th.D. in pastoral counseling program at Columbia Theological Seminary. This was something I very much wanted, and I was quite nervous! During the interview, I had the opportunity to speak with many of the professors with whom I was hoping to study.

I distinctly remember one part of that interview in particular. I was describing the work of Healthy Seminarians-Healthy Church, and how that informed my academic interests. One of the professors, thinking about what I had said, asked, “How does that work apply to black bodies?”

That was a good and insightful question, and one we still wrestle with, especially given recent events – the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, Rayshard Brooks, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and so many more – that prove yet again how our culture, our church, this organization, and I, as a human being, struggle with the value of black lives and black bodies.

The Bible repeatedly offers a vision of constructive unity in a blessedly diverse world. But, like so many aspects of the divine kingdom, it is one that we are far from living into fully. In the meantime, people keep dying, and living in fear, and suffering in ways both large and small.
Intentionally or unintentionally, I am part of the system that makes this happen. The “intentionally” aspect of this is bad enough, but it is the“unintentionally” part that especially scares me and makes me realize just how much work I have to do around this manifestation of sin in my own life. Wendy Farley, professor of spirituality at University of Redlands, writes:

“Sin damages human beings and their communities by diminishing their capacity to perceive injustice, to experience compassion, and to perceive right from wrong. People participate in the process through which they are dehumanized by evil, acquiescing to it, accepting it…

This is the characteristic way sin functions: it corrupts the environment in which human beings must act and deceives them about their real situation… (it) so deeply infects a community that every action is tainted and corrupt… (it) becomes a kind of bondage that entangles human beings and communities even before they choose or desire evil.”

How blind am I? How often do I choose evil without realizing it? What kinds of evil do I tolerate, accept, even sanction? Too much, too often, too many.

The good that comes from this, I hope, is lasting structural change, and that lasting structural change starts with difficult, and ongoing, self-examination, confession, (hopefully) forgiveness, and commitment to something both different and far healthier. The time for this came long ago. I pray for the courage, finally, to live into this call.

Peace,
Travis Webster
HSHC Co-Founder

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.”