September 2020 – Written by small group participant, Susan Hagood, Decatur, Georgia.

In Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 it says, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” There was no time in my history that I found this Bible verse to ring truer than during this time of the COVID 19 pandemic. You might think that COVID could have taken my joys of life from me, but rather, the opposite happened, despite facing the virus at full-fledged capacity. Instead, I experienced God at work in my life. 

Going back some years ago, I had a yearning to begin a new habit, one that could enhance my health. My goal was to increase my overall physical activity. I always had a reason as to why I put exercising on hold. My excuses ranged from “I don’t have enough time” to “I am too tired to think about exercising, much less doing anything about it” to “the weather is uncooperative.” So, the story became a familiar one for me in not overcoming my perceived obstacles. 

When I retired in November of 2019, my hopes were bolstered that I would finally be able to make lifestyle changes for which I had been waiting such a long time. But, by March 2020, to my total dismay, I had not made one measly lifestyle change! What would ever be different? 

It was at this precise time that I received an email from Karen Webster, who I had known through contacts from Columbia Theological Seminary, asking if I would be interested in taking an online course called Health and Wholeness that she had developed to improve the health of busy seminarians. I knew of Karen’s non-profit organization, Healthy Seminarians-Healthy Church, which she and her husband had established. Initially, I debated whether this course would be worth my time. After all, I just retired from being a clinician in the medical field and had received education several times over on “mindfulness.” After thinking about the possible benefit this course might provide, I decided, “why not” – after all, it would be good to be part of a group during a time in quarantine. 

My first encounter with Karen’s course was a surprise for me; it was not a totally didactic course as I had expected. It was a course that included a significant amount of discussion and introspection. I soon realized that all of us taking this course were frustrated about making permanent lifestyle changes. As we shared our stories, I felt a fellowship growing among us. 

Karen presented us assignments between sessions. The questions posed in our assignments were broad in nature, allowing us to move in our own direction. The Bible verses offered, the readings and references noted, the prayers shared, the discussions we had, and the freedom to laugh began to take hold by seemingly releasing me from some of my old thoughts. Might it be that a change in me could be happening? 

It was an early evening with clear weather as I looked outside. I asked our dog, “Would you like to go on a walk?” As I think back, I do not remember any response one way or another from her. When I put on her leash and headed to the front door, she became excited. What fun, I thought, to have a partner for walks! 

It has been about four months since the beginning of Karen’s course, and I can say without reservation that I HAVE developed a new habit, one that I had been hoping to cultivate for an exceedingly long time. Nearly every day, my dog and I set out for a walk around the neighborhood. With each walk, I expand my boundaries, increasing the benefit to my health. Now, when I say the word “walk,” my dog knows the meaning. 

So, as I finish writing my testimony in tribute to this course, I listen to the YouTube video of Turn, Turn, Turn by the Byrds. From now on, when I hear these lyrics taken from Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, it will give me pause to remember this special time in my life.

By Lucas Mburu, Kenya, HSHC Summer Intern 2020

Generally, when people come together to formally create a community, commitment is one of the principle factors for achieving an objective that involves a group people. Commitment helps members remain focused on an organization’s purpose amidst the fluctuations of individual interests and environments. Commitment is highly associated with healthy family relationships, company/institution/organization’s high productivity, and the political stability of a nation.

Nevertheless, getting people to commit has been a challenge for many organizations. Scholars such as John Meyer, Natalie Allen, Jeffrey M. Adams, and Warren H. Jones share several reasons why people shy away from commitment, some of which include:

• Traumas experienced from past commitments (e.g., childhood abuse, memories of loss as a result of being swindled of hard-earned investment, and failure can all leave prints of fear on people which make them shy away from committing themselves to any corporate project)

• Fear of lifestyle change (e.g., in marriage commitment, a partner’s preferences on time and other resources shift from the individual to a couple’s agreement)

• Fear of responsibilities (e.g., in a community project, every individual will have assignments and duties to carry, one will be held accountable in line with duties and power bestowed upon them where there a corporate objective that calls for working with others)

These authors go on to advise organizations to cultivate commitment by addressing fears and deficiencies that people they interact with portray.

This summer, I encountered a scenario that I believe demonstrates another aspect of why people shy away from commitment. As an international student, I had planned to travel back to my home country and be with my family for the 3-month break. Unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic interrupted all my plans. As I was figuring out how to spend my long summer break, I encountered other students who were in the same dilemma of having a lot of time with very few planned commitments.

This situation brought to my mind the unfortunate reality for many young adults in Kenya, who have a lot of time without planned commitments due to the unemployment challenges in the country that have negatively affected many young adults. When I coupled this thought with my passion for human flourishing, specifically for the unemployed young adults, I decided to reach out to my fellow students who had expressed feeling the same struggle as I had been feeling. I suggested a project that focused on creating some healthy living practices to help bring about greater flourishing in our own lives and that we could ultimately share with our communities back home and beyond. I was optimistic as it appeared that my idea for this small group attracted almost 100% commitment judging from the interest and promises I got from the students I contacted via email. However, this translated into 0% commitment at our first meeting… no one showed up. I sent out a follow-up email twice outlining the anticipated objectives, activities, and time commitment (2 hours weekly), which ended up with only one person out of ten agreeing to commit to this group. As a result, I terminated the project, took some time to reflect on the experience, and came up with another project I could do as part of my internship with HSHC.

Just shortly after experiencing disappointment with the small group project due to people being unwilling to commit, the US Department of Homeland Security released ICE regulations that stated the F1-Visa status of international students who planned to take virtual classes in the fall 2020 semester would be revoked. It questioned whether these students should be allowed to stay in the United States if they were not taking classes in person (even if they had no choice but to take the classes online) and threatened the possibility of them being sent home if their schools did not comply with the new regulations. The ICE regulations were threatening to the health and safety of me and my fellow international students and created a lot of anxiety, uncertainty and frustration. Despite my very recent experience of not being able to get students to commit to my small group project, I suggested to them that we come together and seek our “survival/flourishing” in the reality of the ICE regulations. I was surprised because all of the students I asked committed themselves to the idea; even though the notice was abrupt and the agenda was unclear. When I compare this later commitment with the former, especially considering that in both instances I asked many of those same students who had turned down my project on flourishing, I came to discover that commitment could also be influenced by how people interpret the information and data they encounter.

In recent protests, some have stated, “We (people) are not mere statistics.” The former secretary-general of the United Nations (UN), Ban Ki-moon, in his opening remarks at the UN conference in New York, said, “We all understand that people can never be reduced to mere numbers.” (UN, Press release, April 11, 2016). Inferring that the UN conference represents policymakers of nations in the world, who often deal with data and statistics, I see Ki-moon’s statement as affirming the idea that humans may be vulnerable to the interpretation of statistics as “mere numbers” rather than seeing the reality that data represents real people and the occurrences that affect them. Health risks, disease, disasters, and human struggles are all often communicated through numbers instead of ways that humanize their effects, through statistics instead of stories.

Analyzing my experiences related to the commitment of seminarians involved in the flourishing project and international students’ flourishing in the reality of ICE regulations, I see a binary of non-commitment and commitment. What causes contrasting results? I presume commitment could be influenced by a human’s relationship to the data they are processing as well as whether or not a person’s wellbeing/flourishing is affected by that data; their wellbeing is threatened and so they respond, which then changes the statistics from “mere data” into something embodied by real people and the real occurrences that affect them. These people then demonstrate total commitment to courses that seem to safeguard their wellbeing and survival, and vice-versa, showing that people are often most often reactive instead of proactive. Commitment is at the foundation of social life, often where well-being, health, wholeness, and flourishing meet. Moreover, people commit themselves when data directly affects them. It therefore seems that to earn the commitment of seminarians to a course of wellbeing demands addressing the challenge of seeing data as “mere numbers” and instead connecting it to the well-being of those being asked to commit. In Luke 10:25-37, the parable of the Good Samaritan, one sees Jesus contend with the human tendency to treat people and real occurrences that affect people as mere statistics. In verse 26, it seems that Jesus points to the problem of how people are interpreting the data (in this case, Law): “What is written? How do you read?” Moreover, in verses 29-37, Jesus unmasks how interpreting statistics (here, the neighbor – a man beaten by robbers and left half dead) as a “mere number”, as opposed to a flesh and blood person, influences how a person commits themselves. Jesus didn’t give the identity of the man beaten by robbers, probably to let the lawyer interpret that he could likely fall into the hands of robbers just as easily as the man. It seems, then, that sharing stories of how people are vulnerable to threats against their wellbeing could help people see themselves represented in the statistics. I suspect that people’s connection to the data is a key factor in how people commit themselves to human well-being and flourishing.

Work cited:
 Adams, Jeffrey M. and Waren H. Jones, Eds. Handbook of Interpersonal Commitment and Relationship Stability. New York: Springer, 1999.

Meyer, John and Natalie Allen. Commitment in the workplace: Theory, Research and Application. Thousands Oaks, California: Sage Publications, 1997.

United Nations. Press Release: Secretary General, SG/SM/17661-POP/1047, 11 APRIL 2016. https://www.un.org/press/en/2016/sgsm17661.doc.htm Accessed on 08/31/2020

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.

August 2020 – Written by Norma, London, England

I recently attended an online plant-based cooking party led by Karen Webster, cofounder, and executive director of Healthy Seminarians Healthy Churches (HCHS). HSHC’s approach to eating seeks to enable people to live healthier lives by taking care of God’s earth (environmental), and thereby getting the proper nutrition (plant based) that God has provided for us. I initially learned about the workshop through my church’s weekly newsletter. I did not know much about plant-based cooking and wanted to begin learning about ingredients that are often used and get some recipes, so I signed up online. 

Karen is passionate about plant-based cooking and her demeanor was relaxed, nonjudgmental, and approachable. She creates her own recipes and tweaks others to obtain the best result. She said she often takes plant-based recipes to gatherings and there are never any leftovers, so no one notices they were not made in the traditional way. It was great to see her in the kitchen with some of the dishes she created. They looked appetizing and I was delighted (and relieved ) to learn that the ingredients were easy to obtain, the recipes were not complicated, and the food tastes good! 

I found the resources Karen emailed to us as a follow-up to the workshop particularly helpful. Those included sources for obtaining ingredients, recipes, and other helpful information such as the how to stock a plant-based pantry and plant-based substitutes for some traditional ingredients. 

HSHC is a treasure-trove of information about plant-based eating and so much more. I would recommend that anyone who wants to live a healthier life through using the resources God has provided us to attend a plant-based party, sign-up for the newsletter, and visit the website. You will not be sorry. 

Introducing HSHC’s Summer 2020 Intern – Lucas Mburu!

June, 2020 – Lucas will be working with us part-time in partnership with Columbia Presbyterian Church, which is located across the street from HSHC’s office, and Columbia Theological Seminary (Decatur, GA).

Snapshot Bio

Home Country: Kenya

Studying: This fall, Lucas will be a second-year student in the Master of Arts in Theological Studies program at Columbia Theological Seminary, emphasis on the New Testament.

Family: His wife Eunice, daughter Grace (13 years old), and son Timothy (8 years old).

Personal Statement: Each human is God’s work in progress, whom God created “sovereign,” able to imagine and create meaningfulness in their environment for flourishing.

Vision: To build a community that lives into this “sovereignty.”

Mission: To live my call, passion, training, analytical, and stewardship potential by exercising love, faithfulness, professionalism, and ethical conducts in communicating God’s love to humans in their day-to-day matters, for the glory of God.

Slogan: Doing good to as many people as I can, in as many ways as I can, in as many places as I can, and as often as I can.

June, 2020 – “Why does it always seem to take our world being turned upside down before we recognize ourselves in each other? . . . A thoughtful reflection written by a Lenten Challenge participant & HSHC supporter Ann M. Frensley.

The Lenten Challenge was timely for me and affirmed much in my spiritual journey of the past two years. While it is easier for me to avoid the difficult questions, to even deny the necessity of them, what I learned by staying with those questions during this season of Lent is significant. I prayed for deeper discernment and wanted to reflect with greater intention on the questions. I did not want to throw down rote responses.

What did my relationships look like? Did they feel authentic? Had I been authentic, i.e., honest, patient, present, vulnerable, forgiving? God knows I lack patience sometimes, especially with family. I thought I knew what to expect by asking for deeper discernment. Ha! After reading the daily reflections, I wrote them in my journal to revisit later. I was surprised by my responses as the prayer for depth began to open up to me. But I was uncomfortable. It had not always been easy to be honest with my thoughts and feelings, even to myself. I experienced life differently from others.

The Challenge offered an opportunity to be authentic, my true self before God, my family, and friends. It might be too much to ask from me. Could I allow myself to be vulnerable, answer honestly, even to myself? The ugly and uninvited, vicious and deadly coronavirus thrust itself into the midst of Lent, taunted and dared me to reexamine my relationships and my responses to the Lenten Challenge with more urgent intention. The cause and effect that the pandemic was having on so many lives was affecting me, my community, and the entire world. The event was expanding exponentially and holding humanity emotionally hostage. Why was this happening? How long will we have to be separated? Life will surely be different. But how? No answers. Doubts? Many. I missed my weekly interactions with people I had come to know and was aware of how much I had relied on facial expressions, gestures, and body language in conversations. Visual cues and tone of voice do not exist in emails and texts. Virtual face-to-face encounters are helpful and can brighten my day, but nothing compares with the actual presence of a loved one, a friend, a confidante. It has not been easy for me to accept the loss of physical presence, and I grieve it like a death. Whatever the pandemic serves up, I can still choose how to respond, but I’ve had a hard time with that.

The unexpected has burdened me with many questions. How can I communicate with others in a clearer and more conscious way? How can I create new ways to be present from a distance and celebrate meaningful moments of intimacy in my relationships, and for how long? What’s next? Why me? Why us? Why now? Can I manage to be kinder to myself? Maybe the seasons of Lent and Pandemic occurred together so I can appreciate how fragile and interconnected my relationships are. I must celebrate them now in as many imaginative and creative ways as possible. Why does it always seem to take our world being turned upside down before we recognize ourselves in each other?

Easter was celebrated differently this year, and I celebrate the Resurrection from a new perspective. I have another chance to renew my relationships, soften tough scars, forgive and be forgiven, reconcile with and be kinder to others and to myself. I continue to hold the questions with no answers in tension with hope and the expectation of clarity.

In Letters to a Young Poet, Rainier Maria Rilke wrote, “…be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and… try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

Ann M. Frensley April 2020